There was a bitter challenge in his voice.
They galloped together down the regimental front.

The friend scrambled after them.

In front of the colors the three men began to bawl: "Come on! come on!" They danced and gyrated like tortured savages.
The flag, obedient to these appeals, bended its glittering form and swept toward them.

The men wavered in indecision for a moment, and then with a long, wailful cry the dilapidated regiment surged forward and began its new journey.
Over the field went the scurrying mass.

It was a handful of men splattered into the faces of the enemy.