Reeling as if drunk, I ran to save myself. Zigzagging over the field
I came upon a grey-bearded soldier lying in the grass and fell
headlong. I struggled madly, but could not rise to my feet. I lay,
my face upon the ground, weeping like a woman. Save I be lost in
hell, I shall never know again the bitter pang of that moment. I
thought of my country. I saw its splendid capital in ruins; its
people surrendered to God's enemies.
The rout of wagons had gone by I could now hear the heavy tramp
of thousands passing me, the shrill voices of terror. I worked to a
sitting posture somehow - the effort nearly smothered me. A mass
of cavalry was bearing down upon me. They were coming so thick
I saw they would trample me into jelly. In a flash I thought of what
Uncle Eb had told me once. I took my hat and covered my face
quiddy, and then uncovered it as they came near. They sheared
away as I felt the foam of their nostrils. I had split them as a rock
may split the torrent. The last of them went over me - their tails
whipping my face.
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