the New-Englanders seen, unless some scattering horsemen galloping through distant lanes could be so regarded. Out in front of Burnside's ranks a long thin line of skirmishers was now making for the curtaining ridge in front of the pike, and all on a sudden a pale blue smoke-cloud, like a long string of cotton wool, flew along that crest as though the command fire was given from the far right, and the nervous, waiting fingers pulled trigger as the order came, borne on the hot, sluggish, summer air. Snipe's heart gave a great leap as he saw the dust fly up in a hundred places just back of the distant skirmish line and the skirmishers themselves, with much alacrity, come sprinting back to the line, and then there was prodigious waving of swords and shouting of orders and galloping furiously about on part of field-officers who had never before smelled powder, much unnecessary exciting of their men, much whoop and hurrah on part of the advanced line, despite the efforts of the few veterans to set the example of calm and quiet. The instant the skirmishers came ducking in out of the way the long battle line opened a rattling fire upon the ridge, doing tremendous havoc along the hill-side, if one could judge by the rising dust, but finding no lodgment among its hidden defenders. Then a field-gun banged somewhere over east of the ridge, and a shell, whizzing overhead, burst with a puff and crash among the trees back of Burnside's reserve, and hundreds of men crouched instinctively and sprang back laughing loud and nervously. And then another gun, over by the pike, west of the ridge, barked angry challenge, and sent its shell whistling over among Porter's men, and the battle lines broke anew into rattling, crashing fusillade, known as the "fire at will," and then, instead of pushing straight onward as they would be doing another year, the two brigades halted short and took to long-range shooting. Then Snipe saw the battery ahead of them beginning to joggle, and the next thing "Forward, double quick," was repeated along the column, and off to the left front across the fields the snorting teams went galloping, the guns bounding, the cannoneers racing after them, and the adjutant came running back afoot to shout something to Major Stark, who still rode, grim and silent, along the advancing column. Up to this moment the only thing Snipe had heard him say since the first volley was. "Steady, men. Keep quiet. Listen for orders." Now he turned round. "Ride back, Lawton; find the ammunition-wagon and bring it up. It's the colonel's order."