John looked again for his commander, but not seeing him, and knowing how
futile it was now to seek him in all the fiery crush, he resolved to
stay with the young Apache.
"Geronimo," he cried, and it was the last time he called him by that
name, "I go with you!"
In all the excitement of the moment young Bougainville recognized him
and something droll flashed in his eyes.
"Did I boast too much?" he shouted.
"You didn't!" John shouted back.
"Come on then! A big crowd of Germans is just over this hill, and we
must smash 'em!"
John kept by his side, but Bougainville, still waving his sword, while
the red cap sank lower and lower on the blade, addressed his men in
terms of encouragement and affection.
"Forward, my children!" he shouted. "Men, without fear, let us be the
first to make the enemy feel our bayonets! Look, a regiment on the right
is ahead of you, and another also on the left leads you! Faster!
Faster, my children!"
An angle of the German line was thrust forward at this point where a
hill afforded a strong position. Bullets were coming from it in showers,
but the Bougainville regiment broke into a run, passed ahead of the
others and rushed straight at the hill.
It was the first time that men had come face to face in the battle and
now John saw the French fury, the enthusiasm and fire that Napoleon had
capitalized and cultivated so sedulously. Shouting fiercely, they flung
themselves upon the Germans and by sheer impact drove them back.
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