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Updated: May 16, 2025
George with a smile, laying down his knife and fork. "Ain't nary one tol' me ain't no use bein' tol'. All ye got to do is to keep yo' eyes open. Be a weddin' dar 'fo' spring. Look out, sah dat shell's still a-sizzlin'. Mo' coffee, sah? Wait till I gits some hot waffles won't take a minute!" and he was out of the room and downstairs before his master could answer.
"They were carried to Canada," replied Morton. "They afterwards asserted that nine of the wounded tories died on the way. But some of the Indians were resolved to have revenge for their defeat, and they lurked in the woods near Shell's house. One day they found the wished-for opportunity, and fired upon Shell and his boys while they were at work in the field.
Even the Deacon was getting used to this noisy salutation to the morn, and he watched the shells strike harmlessly in the distance with little tremor of his nerves. "That last shell's saved me a good deal o' work diggin'. It, tore out a hole that'll just do to bury the carcasses of these dogs."
By them he was conducted to the Admiral, from whom he learnt that no effectual support could be given to the land force; for such was the shallowness of the river, that none except the very lightest craft could make their way within six miles of the town; and even these were stopped by vessels sunk in the channel, and other artificial bars, barely within a shell's longest range of the fort.
"He go to get abalones, and think he can knock them off with a stick!" laughed Timoteo. Herbert had not long lived in this vicinity, and he did not know the tenacity with which the large, oval-shaped shell, called abalone, or ear-shell, which is so well known and valued for its beautifully colored, irridescent lining, clings to the rock when the shell's inmate is living.
"A wealthy German, named John Shell, had built a block-house of his own. It was two stories high, and built so as to let those inside fire straight down on the assailants. One afternoon in August, while the people of the settlement were generally in the fields at work, a Scotchman named M'Donald, with about sixty Indians and tories, made an attack on Shell's Bush.
Shann stepped back, eyeing the distance to the top of the partition between the roofless rooms. The walls were smooth with the gloss of a sea shell's interior, but the exuberant confidence which had been with him since his awakening refused to accept such a minor obstacle. He made two test leaps, both times his fingers striking the wall well below the top of the partition.
Captain Graffenreid dodged and threw up his hands to one side of his head, palms outward. As he did so he heard a keen, ringing report, and saw on a hillside behind the line a fierce roll of smoke and dust the shell's explosion. It had passed a hundred feet to his left!
The war casualties begin already here, and they fall chiefly among the women. I saw a wounded woman with a bandaged face sitting very quietly in the corner. The women here face danger, perhaps not quite such obvious danger as the women who, at the next stage in the shell's career, make and pack the explosives in their silk casing, but quite considerable risk. And they work with a real enthusiasm.
Then, after seeing the cloud of the burst you hear the hiss of the shell's approach, and finally you are hit by the sound of the explosion. This is the climax and end of the life history of any shell that is not a dud shell. Afterwards the battered fuse may serve as some journalist's paper-weight. The rest is scrap iron. Such is, so to speak, the primary process of modern warfare.
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