"Give 'em hell, boys!"
"Let 'er go, Gallagher!" "Goin' to let the woodpeckers go off?"--and
cheer after cheer went up as the battery passed through. Vain efforts
were made to check this vociferous clamor, which was plainly audible
to the enemy, less than 1500 yards away. The bullets of the enemy
began to drop lower. The cheering had furnished them the clew they
needed. They had located our position, and the 71st atoned for this
thoughtlessness by the loss of nearly eighty men, as it lay cowering
in the underbrush near Balloon Fork.
Just before reaching the Aguadores ford, the battery was met by Col.
Derby, who had been observing the disposition of the troops, from the
balloon, and had afterward ridden to the front on horseback. The
colonel was riding along, to push the infantry forward in position
from the rear, as coolly as if on the parade-ground. A blade of grass
had gotten twisted around a button of his uniform and hung down like a
buttonhole bouquet over his breast. There was a genial smile on his
handsome face as he inquired, "Where are you going?" and, on being
informed of the orders of the detachment and of the intention to put
the battery into action, he replied, "The infantry are not deployed
enough to take advantage of your fire.
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