"I had a number of looks at it," replied Warner, "and I should say from
the way it acted that it numbered at least three million men. I know
that at times not less than ten thousand were aiming their rifles at my
own poor and unworthy person. What a waste of energy for so many men to
shoot at me all at once. I wish the Johnnies would go away and let us
alone!"
The last words were high-pitched and excited. His habitual self-control
broke down for a moment, and the tremendous excitement and nervous
tension of the day found vent in his voice. But in a few seconds he
recovered himself and looked rather ashamed.
"Boys," he said, "I apologize."
"You needn't," said Pennington. "There have been times today when I
felt brave as a lion, and lots of other times I was scared most to
death. It would have helped me a lot then, if I could have opened my
mouth and yelled at the top of my voice."
Sergeant Daniel Whitley was leaning against a stump, and while he was
calmly lighting a pipe he regarded the three boys with a benevolent gaze.
"None of you need be ashamed of bein' scared," he said. "I've been in a
lot of fights myself, though all of them were mere skirmishes when put
alongside of this, an' I've been scared a heap today. I've been scared
for myself, an' I've been scared for the regiment, an' I've been scared
for the whole army, an' I've been scared on general principles, but here
we are, alive an' kickin', an' we ought to feel powerful thankful for
that.
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