Explore "The Killer Angels" by Michael Shaara on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
He came back at last to the cemetery on the hill. All down the ridge they were digging in, all around the crest of the hill. He sat on the horse and watched the picks swinging in the moonlight, listened to the sound of shovels in the earth. The army was still coming in, marching by moonlight. It was almost two o'clock in the morning.
He rode slowly along the ridge, looking for headquarters.