DISLODGING THE SHARPSHOOTERS.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1290, 19 November 1896, Page 8

DISLODGING THE SHARPSHOOTERS.

“ It looks as if it might rain this afternoon," remarked the lieutenant of artillerv.

“ So’it does," the infantry captain assented. He glanced casually at the sky. When his eyes had lowered to the greenshadowed landscape before him he said, fretfully : “ I wish those fellows out yonder would quit pelting at us. They’ve been at it since noon."

At the edge of a grove of maples, across wild fields, there occasionally appeared little puffs of smoke of a dull hue in this gloom of sky which expressed an impending rain. The long wave of blue and steel in the field moved uneasily at the eternal barking of the far-away sharpshooters, and the men, leaning upon their rifles, stared at the grove of maples. Once a private turned to borrow some tobacco from a comrade in the rear rank, but, with his hand still stretched out, he continued to twist his head and glance at the distant trees. He was afraid the enemy would shoot him at a time when he was not looking. Suddenly the artillery officer said, “ See what’s coming 1" Along the rear of the brigade of infantry a column of cavalry was sweeping at a hard gallop. A lieutenant riding some yards to the right of the column bawled furiously at the four troopers just at the rear of the colours. They had lost distance and made a little gap, but at the shout of the lieutenant they urged their horses forward. The bugler, careering along behind the captain of the troop, fought and tugged like a wrestler to keep his frantic animal from bolting far ahead of the column.

On the springy turf the innumerable hoofs thundered in a swift storm of sound. In the brown faces of the troopers their eyes were set like bits of flashing steel. The long line of infantry regiments standing at ease underwent a sudden movement at the rush of the passing squadron. The foot soldiers turned their heads to gaze at the torrent of horses and men.

The yellow folds of the flag fluttered back in silken shuddering waves, as if it were a reluctant thing. Occasionally a giant spring of a charger would rear the firm and steady figure of a soldier suddenly heal and shoulders above his comrades. Over the noise of the scudding hoofs could be heard the creaking of leather trappings., the jingle and clank of steel, and the terse, low-toned commands or appeals of the men to their horses. And the horses were mad with their headlong sweep of this movement, powerful under-jaws bended back and straightened so that the bits were clamped as rigidly as vises upon the teeth, and glistening necks arched in desperate resistance to the hands at the bridles. Swinging their heads in rage at the granite laws of their lives which bended even their angers and their ardours to chosen directions and chosen paces, their flight was as a flight of harnessed demons.

The captain’s bay kept its pace at the head of the squadron with the lithe bounds of a thoroughbred, and this horse was proud as a chief at the roaring trample of In’s fellows behind him. The captain’s glance was calmly fixed upon the grove of maples from whence the sharp-shooters of the enemy had been picking at the blue line. He seemed to be reflecting. He stolidly rose and fell with the plunges of his horse in all the indifference of a deacon’s figure seated pluraply in church. And it occurred to many uf the watching infantry to wonder why this officer could remain imperturbable and reflective when his squadron was thundering and swarming behind him like the rushing of a flooci.

The column swung in a sabre-curve I toward a break in a fence and dashed into ( a roadway. Once a little plank bridge j was encountered, and the sound of the j hoofs upon it was like the long roll. of j many drums. An old captain in the infantry turned to his first-lieutenant and ( made a remark which was a compound of bitter disparagement of cavalry in general and soldierly admiration of this particular troop. Suddenly the bugle sounded and the column halted with a jolting upheaval amid sharp, brief cries. A moment later the men had tumbled from their horses, and, carbines in hand, were running in a j swarm towards the grove of maples. In j the road one of every four of the troopers was standing with braced legs and pulling and hauling at the bridles of four frenzied horses. The captain was running awkwardly iii his boots. He held his sabre low, so that the point often threatened to catch in the turf. His yellow hair ruffled out from under his faded cap. “Go in hard now," he roared in a voice of hoarse fury. His face was violently red. The troopers threw themselves upon the grove like ’wolves upon a great animal. Along the whole front of the wood there was the dry crackling of musketry, with bitter, swift flashes and smoke, that writhed like stung phantoms. The troopers yelled shrilly and spanged bullets low into the foliage. For a moment, when near the woods, the line almost halted. The men struggled and fought for a time like swimmers encountering a powerful current. Then with a supreme effort they went on again. They dashed madly, at the grove, whose foliage from tne high light of the field was as inscrutable as a wall. Then suddenly each detail of the calm trees became apparent, and with , a few more frantic leaps the men were in the cool gloom of the woods. There was a heavy odour as from burnt paper. Wisps of grey smoke wound upwards. The men halted, and, grimy, perspiring, and puffing, they searched the recesses of the woods with eager, fierce glances. Figures could be seen flitting afar off. A dozen carbines rattled at them. During this pause the captain strode along the line, his face lit with a broad smile of contentment. “ When he sends this crowd to do anything I guess he 11 find we do it pretty sharp," he said to the grinning lieutenant. “Say, they didn’t stand that rush a minute, did they ?" said the subaltern. Both officers were profoundly dusty in their uniforms, and their faces were soiled like those of two urchins. Out in the grass behind them were three tumbled and silent forms.

Presently the line moved forward again. The men went from tree to tree like hunters stalking game. Some at the left of the line fired occasionally, and those at the right gazed curiously in that direction. The men still breathed heavily from their scramble across the field. J)emorcst s Magazine, U.S.