He drew up his men rapidly on a ridge and planted his guns in front, but the storm was too heavy and swift.
Harry saw the front of the Southern army burst into fire, and then a deadly sleet of shell and bullets was poured upon the Northern force.
He and Dalton did not have time to rejoin Jackson, but they kept with Sherburne's force as the group of wild horsemen swung around toward the Northern rear, intending to cut it off.
Harry heard the Southern bugles playing mellow and triumphant tunes, and they inflamed his brain.

All the little pulses in his head began to beat heavily.

Millions of black specks danced before his eyes, but the air about them was red.

He began to shout with the others.

The famous rebel yell, which had in it the menacing quality of the Indian war whoop, was already rolling from the half circle of the attacking army, as it rushed forward.
Kenly hung to his ground, fighting with the courage of desperation, and holding off for a little while the gray masses that rushed upon him.