TheTurksclearlyexpectedaninfantryattack，fortheyweresendingupcalciumrocketsandVeryflares。TheRussianswerebatteringtheirlineandsprayingallthehinterland，notwithshrapnel，butwithgood，solidhigh—explosives。Theplacewouldbeasbrightasdayforamoment，allsmotheredinascurryofsmokeandsnowanddebris，andthenablackpallwouldfallonit，whenonlythethunderofthegunstoldofthebattle。
Peterfeltverysick。Hehadnotbelievedtherecouldbesomuchnoiseintheworld，andthedrumsofhisearsweresplitting。Now，foramantowhomcourageishabitual，thetasteoffear—naked，utterfear—isahorriblething。Itseemstowashawayallhismanhood。Peterlayonthecrest，watchingtheshellsburst，andconfidentthatanymomenthemightbeashatteredremnant。Helayandreasonedwithhimself，callinghimselfeverynamehecouldthinkof，butconsciousthatnothingwouldgetridofthatlumpoficebelowhisheart。
Thenhecouldstanditnolonger。Hegotupandranforhislife。
Butheranforward。
Itwasthecraziestperformance。Hewenthell—for—leatheroverapieceofgroundwhichwasbeingwateredwithH。E。，butbythemercyofheavennothinghithim。Hetooksomefearsometossesinshell—holes，butpartlyerectandpartlyonallfourshedidthefiftyyardsandtumbledintoaTurkishtrenchrightontopofadeadman。