They were staring at the brigades which were coming on so gallantly, when the jaws of death were already opened so wide to receive them.
"They're at the half mile," said Dalton, who had a wonderful eye for distance, "and still Old Jack does not give the word." "The closer the better," said Harry.

Glancing up and down the lines he saw the men bending over their guns and the riflemen in line after line rising slowly to their feet and looking to their arms.

In spite of himself, in spite of all the hard usage of war through which he had been, Harry shuddered.

He did not hate any of those men out there who were coming toward them so boldly; no, there was not in all those brigades, nor in all the Union army, nor in all the North a single person whom he wished to hurt.

Yet he knew that he would soon fight against them with all the weapons and all the power he could gather.
"Eight hundred yards," said Dalton.
"Fire!" was the word that ran like an electric blaze along the whole Southern front; and Jackson's fifty cannon, suddenly pushing forward from the forest, poured a storm of steel upon the devoted Pennsylvanians.