It was not jealousy of his comrade, but emulation, and also a desire to meet his own exacting standards.

As he disappeared with his picked sharpshooters and turned the shoulder of the mountain his blood was still hot, but his Vermont head was as cool as the ice upon which he trod.
Warner heard the distant reports of Slade's rifle, and also the crackle of the firing in reply.

He knew the colonel would keep Slade so busy that he was not likely to notice the flank movement, and he pressed forward with all the energy of himself and his men.

The heavy cloth around their shoes gave them a secure foothold until they reached the steeper slopes, and there, in accordance with Reed's suggestion, they used their bayonets as alpenstocks.
A third of the way up the slope, and they reached one of the clumps of cedars, into which they crawled.

Although a glittering network of silver it was a cold covert, but they lay on the ice there and watched for Slade's next shot.