We are wrought up to the highest pitch.

As Company K clears its ground, we press forward eagerly.

Now we go into line just as we raise the hill, and as my four comes around, I catch a hurried glimpse through a rift in the smoke of a line of butternut and gray clad men a hundred yards or so away.

Their guns are at their faces, and I see the smoke and fire spurt from the muzzles.

At the same instant our sabers and revolvers are drawn.