It rolled on and on, sweeping a mass of fugitives before it, and engulfing others.
Dick had no ordered knowledge of the charge.

He was a part of it, and he saw only straight in front of him, but he was conscious that all around him there was a fiery red mist, and a confused and terrible noise of shouting and firing.

But they were winning! They were beating Stonewall Jackson himself.

His pulses throbbed so hard that he thought his arteries would burst, and his lips were dry and blackened from smoke, burned gunpowder and his own hot breath issuing like steam between them.
Then came a halt so sudden and terrible that it shook Dick as if by physical contact.

He looked around in wonder.