"It's no use wounding that brute," thought General D'Hubert.
He was known as a resourceful officer. His comrades years ago used also
to call him The Strategist. And it was a fact that he could think in
the presence of the enemy. Whereas Feraud had been always a mere
fighter--but a dead shot, unluckily.
"I must draw his fire at the greatest possible range," said General
D'Hubert to himself.
At that moment he saw something white moving far off between the
trees--the shirt of his adversary. He stepped out at once between the
trunks, exposing himself freely; then, quick as lightning, leaped
back. It had been a risky move but it succeeded in its object. Almost
simultaneously with the pop of a shot a small piece of bark chipped off
by the bullet stung his ear painfully.
General Feraud, with one shot expended, was getting cautious. Peeping
round the tree, General D'Hubert could not see him at all. This
ignorance of the foe's whereabouts carried with it a sense of
insecurity. General D'Hubert felt himself abominably exposed on his
flank and rear.
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