He developed the acute exasperation of a pestered animal, a well-meaning cow worried by dogs.

He had a mad feeling against his rifle, which could only be used against one life at a time.

He wished to rush forward and strangle with his fingers.

He craved a power that would enable him to make a world-sweeping gesture and brush all back.

His impotency appeared to him, and made his rage into that of a driven beast.
Buried in the smoke of many rifles his anger was directed not so much against the men whom he knew were rushing toward him as against the swirling battle phantoms which were choking him, stuffing their smoke robes down his parched throat.