"Not a moment was about to be lost! Five minutes more of such a defensive and the last roll call would sound
for us! Desperate as the chances were, there was nothing for it but to take the offensive. I stepped to the colors. The men turned
towards me. One word was enough. BAYONETS! It caught like fire and swept along the ranks. The men took it up with a shout, one could
not say whether from the pit or the song of the morning sat, it was vain to order "Forward!". No mortal could have heard it in the
mighty hosanna that was winging the sky. The whole line quivered from the start; the edge of the left-wing rippled, swung, tossed
among the rocks, straightened, changed curve from scimitar to sickle-shape; and the bristling archers swooped down upon the serried
host- down into the face of half a thousand! Two hundred men!"
"Ranks were broken; some retired before us somewhat hastily; some threw their muskets to the ground- even loaded; sunk on their
knees, threw up their hands calling out, 'We surrender. Don't kill us!' As if we wanted to do that! We kill only to resist killing.
And these were manly men, whom we could befriend and by no means kill, if they came our way in peace and good will."