The captured nine pounders
were now helping to block the passage, but the brass twelve pounders on
the supply fleet replied. Steadily the fire of both sides grew in volume
and the lines came closer and closer together.
The moonlight faded again and little clouds of smoke began to rise. These
clouds gradually grew bigger, then united into one heavy opaque mass that
hung over the combatants. Strips of vapor were detached from it and
floated off into the forest. A sharp, pungent odor, the smell of burnt
gunpowder, filled the nostrils of the men and added to the fire that
burned in their veins.
This, the largest battle yet fought in the southern woods, had a somber
and unreal aspect to Paul. All around them now was the encircling
darkness. Only the area in which the battle was fought showed any light,
but here the flashes of the firing were continuous and intense. The crash
of the rifles never ceased. Now and then it rose to greater volume and
then fell again, but rising or falling it always went on, while over it
boomed the big guns answering one another in defiant notes of thunder.
The schooner was the most formidable obstacle to the passage. It lay full
length across the narrow bayou and, even if the boats of the supply fleet
should reach it, there was little room to pass on either side.
Pages:
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372