The point of the sword, doubtless taken from the hand of some fallen officer, had pierced the red cap which was slowly sinking down the blade, but he did not notice it.
John looked again for his commander, but not seeing him, and knowing how futile it was now to seek him in all the fiery crush, he resolved to stay with the young Apache.
"Geronimo," he cried, and it was the last time he called him by that name, "I go with you!" In all the excitement of the moment young Bougainville recognized him and something droll flashed in his eyes.
"Did I boast too much ?" he shouted.
"You didn't!" John shouted back.
"Come on then! A big crowd of Germans is just over this hill, and we must smash 'em!" John kept by his side, but Bougainville, still waving his sword, while the red cap sank lower and lower on the blade, addressed his men in terms of encouragement and affection.
"Forward, my children!" he shouted.

"Men, without fear, let us be the first to make the enemy feel our bayonets! Look, a regiment on the right is ahead of you, and another also on the left leads you! Faster! Faster, my children!" An angle of the German line was thrust forward at this point where a hill afforded a strong position.

Bullets were coming from it in showers, but the Bougainville regiment broke into a run, passed ahead of the others and rushed straight at the hill.
It was the first time that men had come face to face in the battle and now John saw the French fury, the enthusiasm and fire that Napoleon had capitalized and cultivated so sedulously.

Shouting fiercely, they flung themselves upon the Germans and by sheer impact drove them back.

They cleared the hill in a few moments, triumphantly seized four cannon and then, still shouting, swept on.
John found himself shouting with the others.