"My God, they've got a cannon!"
Then there was a martial chorus--the crack of rifle, the hoarse cough of
horse-pistol, the roar of old muskets.
"Bing! Bang! Boom! Bing--bing! Bang--bang! Boom--boom!
Bing--bang--boom!"
Lieutenant Skaggs and his reserves heard the beat of running feet down
the Gap.
"They've gobbled Boggs," he said, and the reserve rushed after him as he
fled. The army heard the beat of their coming feet.
"They've gobbled Skaggs," the army said.
Then was there bedlam as the army fled--a crashing through bushes--a
splashing into the river, the rumble of mule wagons, yells of terror,
swift flying shapes through the pale moonlight. Flitter Bill heard the
din as he stood by his barn door.
"They've gobbled the army," said Flitter Bill, and he, too, fled like a
shadow down the valley.
Nature never explodes such wild and senseless energy as when she lets
loose a mob in a panic. With the army, it was each man for himself and
devil take the hindmost; and the flight of the army was like a flight
from the very devil himself. Lieutenant Boggs, whose feet were the
swiftest in the hills, outstripped his devoted band. Lieutenant Skaggs,
being fat and slow, fell far behind his reserve, and dropped exhausted
on a rock for a moment to get his breath.
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