THE youth went slowly toward the fire in-dicated by his departed friend. As he reeled, hebethought him of the welcome his comradeswould give him. He had a conviction that hewould soon feel in his sore heart the barbedmissiles of ridicule. He had no strength to in-vent a tale; he would be a soft target.

He made vague plans to go off into the deeperdarkness and hide, but they were all destroyedby the voices of exhaustion and pain from hisbody. His ailments, clamoring, forced him toseek the place of food and rest, at whatever cost.

He swung unsteadily toward the fire. Hecould see the forms of men throwing blackshadows in the red light, and as he went nearerit became known to him in some way that theground was strewn with sleeping men.

Of a sudden he confronted a black andmonstrous figure. A rifle barrel caught someglinting beams. "Halt! halt!" He was dis-

129mayed for a moment, but he presently thoughtthat he recognized the nervous voice. As hestood tottering before the rifle barrel, he calledout: "Why, hello, Wilson, you--you here?"

The rifle was lowered to a position of cautionand the loud soldier came slowly forward. Hepeered into the youth's face. "That you,Henry?"

"Yes, it's--it's me."

"Well, well, ol' boy," said the other, "byginger, I'm glad t' see yeh! I give yeh upfer a goner. I thought yeh was dead sureenough." There was husky emotion in hisvoice.

The youth found that now he could barelystand upon his feet. There was a sudden sinkingof his forces. He thought he must hasten to pro-duce his tale to protect him from the missilesalready at the lips of his redoubtable comrades.So, staggering before the loud soldier, he began:"Yes, yes. I've--I've had an awful time. I'vebeen all over. Way over on th' right. Ter'blefightin' over there. I had an awful time. I gotseparated from th' reg'ment. Over on th' right,I got shot. In th' head. I never see sechfightin'. Awful time. I don't see how I could 'agot separated from th' reg'ment. I got shot,too."His friend had stepped forward quickly."What? Got shot? Why didn't yeh say sofirst? Poor ol' boy, we must--hol' on a minnit;what am I doin'. I'll call Simpson."

Another figure at that moment loomed in thegloom. They could see that it was the corporal."Who yeh talkin' to, Wilson?" he demanded.His voice was anger-toned. "Who yeh talkin'to? Yeh th' derndest sentinel--why--hello,Henry, you here? Why, I thought you wasdead four hours ago! Great Jerusalem, theykeep turnin' up every ten minutes or so! Wethought we'd lost forty-two men by straightcount, but if they keep on a-comin' this way, we'llgit th' comp'ny all back by mornin' yit. Wherewas yeh?"

"Over on th' right. I got separated"--beganthe youth with considerable glibness.

But his friend had interrupted hastily. "Yes,an' he got shot in th' head an' he's in a fix, an' wemust see t' him right away." He rested his riflein the hollow of his left arm and his right aroundthe youth's shoulder.

"Gee, it must hurt like thunder!" he said.

The youth leaned heavily upon his friend."Yes, it hurts--hurts a good deal," he replied.There was a faltering in his voice.

"Oh," said the corporal. He linked his armin the youth's and drew him forward. "Comeon, Henry. I'll take keer 'a yeh."

As they went on together the loud privatecalled out after them: "Put 'im t' sleep in myblanket, Simpson. An'--hol' on a minnit--here'smy canteen. It's full 'a coffee. Look at his headby th' fire an' see how it looks. Maybe it's apretty bad un. When I git relieved in a couple'a minnits, I'll be over an' see t' him."

The youth's senses were so deadened that hisfriend's voice sounded from afar and he couldscarcely feel the pressure of the corporal's arm.He submitted passively to the latter's directingstrength. His head was in the old manner hang-ing forward upon his breast. His knees wobbled.

The corporal led him into the glare of thefire. "Now, Henry," he said, "let's have look atyer ol' head."

The youth sat down obediently and the cor-poral, laying aside his rifle, began to fumble in thebushy hair of his comrade. He was obliged toturn the other's head so that the full flush of thefire light would beam upon it. He puckered hismouth with a critical air. He drew back his lipsand whistled through his teeth when his fingerscame in contact with the splashed blood and therare wound.

"Ah, here we are!" he said. He awkwardlymade further investigations. "Jest as I thought,"he added, presently. "Yeh've been grazed by aball. It's raised a queer lump jest as if somefeller had lammed yeh on th' head with a club.It stopped a-bleedin' long time ago. Th' mostabout it is that in th' mornin' yeh'll feel that anumber ten hat wouldn't fit yeh. An' yourhead'll be all het up an' feel as dry as burnt pork.An' yeh may git a lot 'a other sicknesses, too, bymornin'. Yeh can't never tell. Still, I don'tmuch think so. It's jest a damn' good belt on th'head, an' nothin' more. Now, you jest sit herean' don't move, while I go rout out th' relief.Then I'll send Wilson t' take keer 'a yeh."

The corporal went away. The youth re-mained on the ground like a parcel. He staredwith a vacant look into the fire.

After a time he aroused, for some part, andthe things about him began to take form. Hesaw that the ground in the deep shadows wascluttered with men, sprawling in every con-ceivable posture. Glancing narrowly into themore distant darkness, he caught occasionalglimpses of visages that loomed pallid andghostly, lit with a phosphorescent glow. Thesefaces expressed in their lines the deep stupor ofthe tired soldiers. They made them appear likemen drunk with wine. This bit of forest mighthave appeared to an ethereal wanderer as a sceneof the result of some frightful debauch.

On the other side of the fire the youthobserved an officer asleep, seated bolt upright,with his back against a tree. There was some-thing perilous in his position. Badgered bydreams, perhaps, he swayed with little bouncesand starts, like an old toddy-stricken grandfatherin a chimney corner. Dust and stains were uponhis face. His lower jaw hung down as if lackingstrength to assume its normal position. He wasthe picture of an exhausted soldier after a feast ofwar.

He had evidently gone to sleep with hissword in his arms. These two had slumbered inan embrace, but the weapon had been allowedin time to fall unheeded to the ground. Thebrass-mounted hilt lay in contact with some partsof the fire.

Within the gleam of rose and orange lightfrom the burning sticks were other soldiers,snoring and heaving, or lying deathlike inslumber. A few pairs of legs were stuck forth,rigid and straight. The shoes displayed the mudor dust of marches and bits of rounded trousers,protruding from the blankets, showed rents andtears from hurried pitchings through the densebrambles.

The fire crackled musically. From it swelledlight smoke. Overhead the foliage movedsoftly. The leaves, with their faces turnedtoward the blaze, were colored shifting hues ofsilver, often edged with red. Far off to the right,through a window in the forest could be seen ahandful of stars lying, like glittering pebbles, onthe black level of the night.

Occasionally, in this low-arched hall, a soldierwould arouse and turn his body to a new posi-tion, the experience of his sleep having taughthim of uneven and objectionable places upon theground under him. Or, perhaps, he would lifthimself to a sitting posture, blink at the fire foran unintelligent moment, throw a swift glance athis prostrate companion, and then cuddle downagain with a grunt of sleepy content.

The youth sat in a forlorn heap until hisfriend the loud young soldier came, swinging twocanteens by their light strings. "Well, now,Henry, ol' boy," said the latter, "we'll have yehfixed up in jest about a minnit."

He had the bustling ways of an amateurnurse. He fussed around the fire and stirred thesticks to brilliant exertions. He made his patientdrink largely from the canteen that contained thecoffee. It was to the youth a delicious draught.He tilted his head afar back and held the canteenlong to his lips. The cool mixture went caress-ingly down his blistered throat. Having finished,he sighed with comfortable delight.

The loud young soldier watched his comradewith an air of satisfaction. He later producedan extensive handkerchief from his pocket. Hefolded it into a manner of bandage and sousedwater from the other canteen upon the middle ofit. This crude arrangement he bound over theyouth's head, tying the ends in a queer knot atthe back of the neck.

"There," he said, moving off and surveyinghis deed, "yeh look like th' devil, but I bet yehfeel better."

The youth contemplated his friend with grate-ful eyes. Upon his aching and swelling head thecold cloth was like a tender woman's hand.

"Yeh don't holler ner say nothin'," remarkedhis friend approvingly. "I know I'm a black-smith at takin' keer 'a sick folks, an' yeh neversqueaked. Yer a good un, Henry. Most 'a menwould a' been in th' hospital long ago. A shot inth' head ain't foolin' business."

The youth made no reply, but began to fumblewith the buttons of his jacket.

"Well, come, now," continued his friend,"come on. I must put yeh t' bed an' see that yehgit a good night's rest."

The other got carefully erect, and the loudyoung soldier led him among the sleeping formslying in groups and rows. Presently he stoopedand picked up his blankets. He spread the rubberone upon the ground and placed the woolen oneabout the youth's shoulders.

"There now," he said, "lie down an' git somesleep."

The youth, with his manner of doglike obe-dience, got carefully down like a crone stoop-ing. He stretched out with a murmur of reliefand comfort. The ground felt like the softestcouch.

But of a sudden he ejaculated: "Hol' on aminnit! Where you goin' t' sleep?"

His friend waved his hand impatiently."Right down there by yeh."

"Well, but hol' on a minnit," continued theyouth. "What yeh goin' t' sleep in? I've gotyour--"

The loud young soldier snarled: "Shet upan' go on t' sleep. Don't be makin' a damn' fool'a yerself," he said severely.

After the reproof the youth said no more.An exquisite drowsiness had spread through him.The warm comfort of the blanket enveloped himand made a gentle languor. His head fell for-ward on his crooked arm and his weighted lidswent softly down over his eyes. Hearing asplatter of musketry from the distance, hewondered indifferently if those men sometimesslept. He gave a long sigh, snuggled down intohis blanket, and in a moment was like his com-rades.