A
thick gray crust of dust, which perspiration had converted into an ugly
mask, covered their fresh young faces. The uniforms bore marks of the
clay in the various camping grounds where they had halted for a short
rest. But nothing now revealed the mortal weariness of the band of
heroes. Their eyes, reddened by the heat, blazed with the enthusiasm
for battle, their parched throats once more gained power to shout
"Hurrah!" with the full strength of their voices; their feet, which but
a few minutes ago had dragged along the dusty highway with painful
effort, now moved lightly and elastically, it seemed as though the
whole regiment had been invigorated by some stimulating drink as it
inarched into the line of fire.
The batteries roared above their heads at the French with twofold zeal,
"Hurrah, Hurrah!" rose from a thousand throats in the bottom of the
ravine, one could hear the roll of the drums sounding the march, and
loud shouts and cries. Prince Louis watched the assailants, whose
foremost ranks were already climbing the hill on the opposite side.
"Poor fellows!" he thought, "there they go to death as joyously as if
it were a kirmess dance.
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