MORE VENGEFUL THAN WAR.

Lyttelton Times, Volume LXXXI, Issue 10236, 3 January 1894, Page 6

MORE VENGEFUL THAN WAR.

As we move by the left flank to cross the country highway and take up a position in the triangular piece of woods, the man on my left lakes out his watch and I note the time. It is exactly 4.30 p.m. The scent of the hay comes to our nostrils as we march, and more than one hand reaches out and plucks a leaf from the vine creeping along the wall and seeking to beautify it. We can see no enemy on our front as we form battle line under the trees and pile up bushes, limbs, and logs for a breastwork. They will come down the road if they come, and then we shall enfilade them, and at least hold them in check, no matter if they outnumber us live to one. A crack battery has moved with us, and the artillerists are impatient to get to work. Off on my right the fight is hot. The earth under our feet trembles under the concussion of the field pieces, and the spiteful crackle of musketry reminds one of the onward sweep of a great forest fire.

What hss happened? Has the sun already gone to rest, and is this twilight creeping over the field of battle ? Men look up and shout them. The bright sunshine haa suddenly disappeared. We are clear oE the smoke here, though it hangs like a pall over the brigade on our right. We are still gazing and wondering, when there cornea a deep and hollow rumbling, which can be plainly heard above all other noises. “It's a thunderstorm!” whispers man after man, and looking to the south-west we see a black cloud hanging almost over our heads. Down here is the vengeance of manj up there the wrath of God. It is a greenishblack cloud—its centre as black as midnight and its outer edges fringed with a green which reminds you of the eyes of an infuriated and desperate animal about to battle for its life and more. “Steady men—steady! Eight dress, there! ” From out of the very centre of that forbidding cloud there suddenly leaped a sheet of flame so bright that every eve wan dazzle 1 and a thousand men started in alsrm. The lines were tcarcely re*tored when there came a crash as if a thousand shells had exploded at once, and hundreds of men ■ cried out iu terror. Strangs enough! "We are here to die. Down on the right 5000 men men have yielded up the : r. lives, end 5000 more are groaning with their wounds. Should we druid the thunderbolts of heaven more than the murderous missiles forged by the hand of ana ?

Flash! Cringe! Cry out! A tongue of flame shot out as if to lick up the five acres of woodland and the thousand men hiding under the trees. Scores of .men let.fall muskets and raised their hands to their blanched faces. Scores of others wheeled about in their tracks as' if to fly. The long line was undulating like a great serpent creeping over rocks, when the earth seemed to rise up and there came a crash which threw men to their knee?. A thunderbolt had struck a tree at the head of our line, and the twelve men nearest it fell like logs. Four were dead before they touched the earth. Flams! Crash! Panic!

Had five thousand of the enemy come marching down the road and charged ua en masse there would have been no such confusion as thin. Veterans of a dozen battles are pressing back, and the officers are pale-faced as they flourish their swords and shout and curse to restore the lines. Another tree has been rent aad rivenmore men have been struck down.

The battery is izt front of us. They are trying to bring the horssa up to drag the guns away from under the tell trees, but the spirited animals, every one of them familiar with the roar of battle, are utterly demoralised and seeking to escape. They rear and plunge and kick and utter shrill neighs, and they cannot be controlled. Flash! Flame! Eoar !

Not a tree this time, but a caisson full of ammunition. A thunderbolt shot out of the black heavens as straight as an arrow and swifter than thought and struck this terrible target. A great mass of flame shoots up into the tree tops, withering and burning—there is an explosion which bio wo men. oil their feet, and then death reaches out his skeleton fingers and touches man after man until, he has .sixteen, more victims. His work is not concluded when fha floodgates of heaven are opened, and tbe ra'n pours down in a deluge. As if the word of command had been given, tbe line fails back, carrying officers before them, and halts net until clear of the dangerous trees. Then we huddle together like sheep in a storm, half blinded by the continued flashes, and half c'rowned by the downpour, and there is never a man of us who hat not been a coward under tbe swift and terrible attack of a fee more vengeful than war. And the sun hat gone down and the darkness is here, and of the battle which ceased an hour ago we know not. Few questions are asked and answered. We feel dazed and stupefied. We have witnessed such a vengeance as mau cannot wreak upon man, and it has left us without courage and almost bel[lc;s.