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Captain Rykov was far from asking quarter. Gathering about him

half a battalion, he shouted, "Ready!" Immediately the line

seized their carbines and the arms rattled; they had long since

been loaded. He shouted, "Aim!" and the barrels glittered in a

long row. He shouted, "Fire in turn!" and one report followed

another; one man shot, another loaded, a third clutched his

musket. One could hear the whistling of bullets, the rattle of

locks, the clink of ramrods; the whole line seemed to be a moving

reptile, which moved a thousand glittering legs at the same time.