He kept near, as if it could be a saver of lives, and an imploring cry went from his mind.
In the mad scramble he was aware that the color sergeant flinched suddenly, as if struck by a bludgeon.

He faltered, and then became motionless, save for his quivering knees.
He made a spring and a clutch at the pole.

At the same instant his friend grabbed it from the other side.

They jerked at it, stout and furious, but the color sergeant was dead, and the corpse would not relinquish its trust.

For a moment there was a grim encounter.