They were suggestive of unnumbered thousands.
Once he saw a tiny battery go dashing along the line of the horizon.
The tiny riders were beating the tiny horses.
From a sloping hill came the sound of cheerings and clashes.

Smoke welled slowly through the leaves.
Batteries were speaking with thunderous oratorical effort.

Here and there were flags, the red in the stripes dominating.

They splashed bits of warm color upon the dark lines of troops.
The youth felt the old thrill at the sight of the emblems.

They were like beautiful birds strangely undaunted in a storm.
As he listened to the din from the hillside, to a deep pulsating thunder that came from afar to the left, and to the lesser clamors which came from many directions, it occurred to him that they were fighting, too, over there, and over there, and over there.