What more horribly disturbed
Penhallow was the hideous screams of the battery horses. "Ah! the pity of
it. They had no cause to die for--no duty--no choice." As he assisted in
replacing the wreckage of the guns, he still heard the cries of the
animals who so dumb in peace found in torture voices of anguish unheard
before--unnatural, strange. The appalling tempest of shells screamed on
and on, while the most of them fell beyond the Crest. Penhallow looked up
to note their flight. They darted overhead shrill-voiced or hissing.
There was a white puff of smoke, a red flash, and an explosion.
General Gibbon, coming back from the long line of his corps, said, "My
men have suffered very little, but the headquarters behind them are in
ruin. Meade has moved back." As he spoke the shells began to fall on the
Crest.
"They seem to be more attentive to us," said the battery Captain
Woodruff. "Thought we'd catch it!"
"Horrible!--Those horses, Gibbon," said Penhallow.
At last there seemed to be more concentrated firing on the Crest. Many
shells fell near the imperfect wall-shelter of the crouching men, while
others exploded among the lines to left or right in the bushes.
"They are doing better now, confound them!" said the young general
coolly. "Our men at the wall seem disturbed.
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