A SPUTTERING of musketry was
always to be heard. Later, the
cannon had entered the dis- pute.
In the fog-filled air their voices
made a thudding sound. The reverberations
were con- tinued. This part of
the world led a strange, battleful
existence.
The youth's regiment was marched
to relieve a command that had
lain long in some damp trenches.
The men took positions behind
a curv- ing line of rifle pits
that had been turned up, like
a large furrow, along the line
of woods. Before them was a level
stretch, peopled with short,
deformed stumps. From the woods
beyond came the dull popping
of the skirmishers and pickets,
firing in the fog. From the right
came the noise of a terrific
fracas.
The men cuddled behind the
small embank- ment and sat in
easy attitudes awaiting their
turn. Many had their backs to
the firing. The youth's friend
lay down, buried his face in
his
154 arms, and almost instantly,
it seemed, he was in a deep sleep.
The youth leaned his breast
against the brown dirt and peered
over at the woods and up and
down the line. Curtains of trees
interfered with his ways of vision.
He could see the low line of
trenches but for a short distance.
A few idle flags were perched
on the dirt hills. Behind them
were rows of dark bodies with
a few heads sticking curiously
over the top.
Always the noise of skirmishers
came from the woods on the front
and left, and the din on the
right had grown to frightful
proportions. The guns were roaring
without an instant's pause for
breath. It seemed that the cannon
had come from all parts and were
engaged in a stupendous wrangle.
It became impossible to make
a sen- tence heard.
The youth wished
to launch a joke--a quota-
tion from newspapers.
He desired to say, "All quiet
on the Rappahannock," but the
guns refused to permit even a
comment upon their uproar. He
never successfully concluded
the sentence. But at last the
guns stopped, and among the men
in the rifle pits rumors again
flew, like birds, but they were
now for the most part black creatures
who flapped their wings drearily
near to the ground and refused
to rise on any wings of hope.
The men's faces grew doleful
from the interpreting of omens.
Tales of hesitation and uncertainty
on the part of those high in
place and responsibility came
to their ears. Stories of disaster
were borne into their minds with
many proofs. This din of musketry
on the right, grow- ing like
a released genie of sound, expressed
and emphasized the army's plight.
The men were
disheartened and began to mutter.
They made gestures
expressive of the sentence: "Ah,
what more can we do?" And it
could always be seen that they
were bewildered by the alleged
news and could not fully compre-
hend a defeat.
Before the gray mists had been
totally ob- literated by the
sun rays, the regiment was march-
ing in a spread column that was
retiring carefully through the
woods. The disordered, hurrying
lines of the enemy could sometimes
be seen down through the groves
and little fields. They were
yelling, shrill and exultant.
At this sight
the youth forgot many personal
matters and became
greatly enraged. He ex- ploded
in loud sentences. "B'jiminey,
we're generaled by a lot 'a lunkheads."
"More than one feller has said
that t'-day," observed a man.
His friend,
recently aroused, was still
very drowsy. He looked
behind him until his mind took
in the meaning of the movement.
Then he sighed. "Oh, well, I
s'pose we got licked," he remarked
sadly.
The youth had a thought that
it would not be handsome for
him to freely condemn other men.
He made an attempt to restrain
himself, but the words upon his
tongue were too bitter. He presently
began a long and intricate denunciation
of the commander of the forces.
"Mebbe, it wa'n't all his fault--not
all to- gether. He did th' best
he knowed. It's our luck t' git
licked often," said his friend
in a weary tone. He was trudging
along with stooped shoulders
and shifting eyes like a man
who has been caned and kicked.
"Well, don't we fight like
the devil? Don't we do all that
men can?" demanded the youth
loudly.
He was secretly
dumfounded at this sentiment
when it came
from his lips. For a moment his
face lost its valor and he looked
guiltily about him. But no one
questioned his right to deal
in such words, and presently
he recovered his air of courage.
He went on to repeat a statement
he had heard going from group
to group at the camp that morning. "The
brigadier said he never saw a
new reg'ment fight the way we
fought yestirday, didn't he?
And we didn't do better than
many another reg'ment, did we?
Well, then, you can't say it's
th' army's fault, can you?"
In his reply,
the friend's voice was stern. "'A course not," he
said. "No man dare say we don't
fight like th' devil. No man
will ever dare say it. Th' boys
fight like hell-roosters. But
still--still, we don't have no
luck."
"Well, then, if we fight like
the devil an' don't ever whip,
it must be the general's fault," said
the youth grandly and decisively. "And
I don't see any sense in fighting
and fighting and fighting, yet
always losing through some derned
old lunkhead of a general."
A sarcastic
man who was tramping at the
youth's side, then spoke
lazily. "Mebbe yeh think yeh
fit th' hull battle yestirday,
Fleming," he remarked.
The speech pierced the youth.
Inwardly he was reduced to an
abject pulp by these chance words.
His legs quaked privately. He
cast a frightened glance at the
sarcastic man.
"Why, no," he hastened to say
in a concili- ating voice, "I
don't think I fought the whole
battle yesterday."
But the other
seemed innocent of any deeper
meaning. Apparently,
he had no information. It was
merely his habit. "Oh!" he replied
in the same tone of calm derision.
The youth, nevertheless, felt
a threat. His mind shrank from
going near to the danger, and
thereafter he was silent. The
significance of the sarcastic
man's words took from him all
loud moods that would make him
appear prominent. He became suddenly
a modest person.
There was low-toned talk among
the troops. The officers were
impatient and snappy, their countenances
clouded with the tales of misfor-
tune. The troops, sifting through
the forest, were sullen. In the
youth's company once a man's
laugh rang out. A dozen soldiers
turned their faces quickly toward
him and frowned with vague displeasure.
The noise of firing dogged
their footsteps. Sometimes, it
seemed to be driven a little
way, but it always returned again
with increased insolence. The
men muttered and cursed, throwing
black looks in its direction.
In a clear space the troops
were at last halted. Regiments
and brigades, broken and detached
through their encounters with
thickets, grew together again
and lines were faced toward the
pursuing bark of the enemy's
infantry.
This noise, following like
the yellings of eager, metallic
hounds, increased to a loud and
joyous burst, and then, as the
sun went serenely up the sky,
throwing illuminating rays into
the gloomy thickets, it broke
forth into prolonged pealings.
The woods began to crackle as
if afire.
"Whoop-a-dadee," said a man, "here
we are! Everybody fightin'. Blood
an' destruction."
"I was willin' t' bet they'd
attack as soon as th' sun got
fairly up," savagely asserted
the lieutenant who commanded
the youth's company. He jerked
without mercy at his little mustache.
He strode to and fro with dark
dignity in the rear of his men,
who were lying down behind whatever
protection they had collected.
A battery had trundled into
position in the rear and was
thoughtfully shelling the distance.
The regiment, unmolested as yet,
awaited the moment when the gray
shadows of the woods before them
should be slashed by the lines
of flame. There was much growling
and swearing.
"Good Gawd," the youth grumbled, "we're
always being chased around like
rats! It makes me sick. Nobody
seems to know where we go or
why we go. We just get fired
around from pillar to post and
get licked here and get licked
there, and nobody knows what
it's done for. It makes a man
feel like a damn' kitten in a
bag. Now, I'd like to know what
the eternal thunders we was marched
into these woods for anyhow,
unless it was to give the rebs
a regular pot shot at us. We
came in here and got our legs
all tangled up in these cussed
briers, and then we begin to
fight and the rebs had an easy
time of it. Don't tell me it's
just luck! I know better. It's
this derned old--"
The friend
seemed jaded, but he interrupted
his comrade with
a voice of calm confidence. "It'll
turn out all right in th' end," he
said.
"Oh, the devil
it will! You always talk like
a dog-hanged
parson. Don't tell me! I know--"
At this time
there was an interposition
by the savage-minded lieutenant,
who was obliged to vent some
of his inward dissatisfaction
upon his men. "You boys shut
right up! There no need 'a your
wastin' your breath in long-winded
arguments about this an' that
an' th' other. You've been jawin'
like a lot 'a old hens. All you've
got t' do is to fight, an' you'll
get plenty 'a that t' do in about
ten minutes. Less talkin' an'
more fightin' is what's best
for you boys. I never saw sech
gabbling jackasses."
He paused, ready to pounce
upon any man who might have the
temerity to reply. No words being
said, he resumed his dignified
pacing.
"There's too much chin music
an' too little fightin' in this
war, anyhow," he said to them,
turning his head for a final
remark.
The day had grown more white,
until the sun shed his full radiance
upon the thronged forest. A sort
of a gust of battle came sweeping
toward that part of the line
where lay the youth's regi- ment.
The front shifted a trifle to
meet it square- ly. There was
a wait. In this part of the field
there passed slowly the intense
moments that pre- cede the tempest.
A single rifle flashed in a
thicket before the regiment.
In an instant it was joined by
many others. There was a mighty
song of clashes and crashes that
went sweeping through the woods.
The guns in the rear, aroused
and enraged by shells that had
been thrown burlike at them,
suddenly involved themselves
in a hideous alter- cation with
another band of guns. The battle
roar settled to a rolling thunder,
which was a single, long explosion.
In the regiment there was a
peculiar kind of hesitation denoted
in the attitudes of the men.
They were worn, exhausted, having
slept but lit- tle and labored
much. They rolled their eyes
toward the advancing battle as
they stood await- ing the shock.
Some shrank and flinched. They
stood as men tied to stakes.
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