He seated himself gloomily on the ground with his flag between his knees.
As he noted the vicious, wolflike temper of his comrades he had a sweet thought that if the enemy was about to swallow the regimental broom as a large prisoner, it could at least have the consolation of going down with bristles forward.
But the blows of the antagonist began to grow more weak.

Fewer bullets ripped the air, and finally, when the men slackened to learn of the fight, they could see only dark, floating smoke.

The regiment lay still and gazed.

Presently some chance whim came to the pestering blur, and it began to coil heavily away.

The men saw a ground vacant of fighters.