WHEN the youth awoke it seemed to him thathe had been asleep for a thousand years, and hefelt sure that he opened his eyes upon an unex-pected world. Gray mists were slowly shiftingbefore the first efforts of the sun rays. An im-pending splendor could be seen in the easternsky. An icy dew had chilled his face, and im-mediately upon arousing he curled farther downinto his blanket. He stared for a while at theleaves overhead, moving in a heraldic wind ofthe day.

The distance was splintering and blaring withthe noise of fighting. There was in the soundan expression of a deadly persistency, as if it hadnot begun and was not to cease.

About him were the rows and groups of menthat he had dimly seen the previous night. Theywere getting a last draught of sleep before theawakening. The gaunt, careworn features anddusty figures were made plain by this quaint

139light at the dawning, but it dressed the skin ofthe men in corpselike hues and made the tangledlimbs appear pulseless and dead. The youthstarted up with a little cry when his eyes firstswept over this motionless mass of men, thick-spread upon the ground, pallid, and in strangepostures. His disordered mind interpreted thehall of the forest as a charnel place. He believedfor an instant that he was in the house of thedead, and he did not dare to move lest thesecorpses start up, squalling and squawking. In asecond, however, he achieved his proper mind.He swore a complicated oath at himself. Hesaw that this somber picture was not a fact ofthe present, but a mere prophecy.

He heard then the noise of a fire cracklingbriskly in the cold air, and, turning his head, hesaw his friend pottering busily about a smallblaze. A few other figures moved in the fog, andhe heard the hard cracking of axe blows.

Suddenly there was a hollow rumble ofdrums. A distant bugle sang faintly. Similarsounds, varying in strength, came from near andfar over the forest. The bugles called to eachother like brazen gamecocks. The near thunderof the regimental drums rolled.

The body of men in the woods rustled. Therewas a general uplifting of heads. A murmuringof voices broke upon the air. In it there wasmuch bass of grumbling oaths. Strange godswere addressed in condemnation of the earlyhours necessary to correct war. An officer'speremptory tenor rang out and quickened thestiffened movement of the men. The tangledlimbs unraveled. The corpse-hued faces werehidden behind fists that twisted slowly in the eyesockets.

The youth sat up and gave vent to an enormousyawn. "Thunder!" he remarked petulantly.He rubbed his eyes, and then putting up his handfelt carefully of the bandage over his wound.His friend, perceiving him to be awake, camefrom the fire. "Well, Henry, ol' man, how doyeh feel this mornin'?" he demanded.

The youth yawned again. Then he puckeredhis mouth to a little pucker. His head, in truth,felt precisely like a melon, and there was an un-pleasant sensation at his stomach.

"Oh, Lord, I feel pretty bad," he said.

"Thunder!" exclaimed the other. "I hopedye'd feel all right this mornin'. Let's see th'bandage--I guess it's slipped." He began totinker at the wound in rather a clumsy way untilthe youth exploded.

"Gosh-dern it!" he said in sharp irritation;"you're the hangdest man I ever saw! Youwear muffs on your hands. Why in goodthunderation can't you be more easy? I'd ratheryou'd stand off an' throw guns at it. Now, goslow, an' don't act as if you was nailing downcarpet."

He glared with insolent command at hisfriend, but the latter answered soothingly."Well, well, come now, an' git some grub," hesaid. "Then, maybe, yeh'll feel better."

At the fireside the loud young soldierwatched over his comrade's wants with tender-ness and care. He was very busy marshalingthe little black vagabonds of tin cups and pour-ing into them the streaming, iron colored mixturefrom a small and sooty tin pail. He had somefresh meat, which he roasted hurriedly upon astick. He sat down then and contemplated theyouth's appetite with glee.

The youth took note of a remarkable changein his comrade since those days of camp life uponthe river bank. He seemed no more to be con-tinually regarding the proportions of his personalprowess. He was not furious at small words thatpricked his conceits. He was no more a loudyoung soldier. There was about him now afine reliance. He showed a quiet belief inhis purposes and his abilities. And this in-ward confidence evidently enabled him to beindifferent to little words of other men aimedat him.

The youth reflected. He had been used toregarding his comrade as a blatant child with anaudacity grown from his inexperience, thought-less, headstrong, jealous, and filled with a tinselcourage. A swaggering babe accustomed to strutin his own dooryard. The youth wonderedwhere had been born these new eyes; when hiscomrade had made the great discovery thatthere were many men who would refuse to besubjected by him. Apparently, the other hadnow climbed a peak of wisdom from which hecould perceive himself as a very wee thing. Andthe youth saw that ever after it would be easierto live in his friend's neighborhood.

His comrade balanced his ebony coffee-cup onhis knee. "Well, Henry," he said, "what d'yehthink th' chances are? D'yeh think we'll wal-lop 'em?"

The youth considered for a moment. "Day-b'fore-yesterday," he finally replied, with boldness,"you would 'a' bet you'd lick the hull kit-an'-boodle all by yourself."

His friend looked a trifle amazed. "WouldI?" he asked. He pondered. "Well, perhaps Iwould," he decided at last. He stared humbly atthe fire.

The youth was quite disconcerted at this sur-prising reception of his remarks. "Oh, no, youwouldn't either," he said, hastily trying to re-trace.

But the other made a deprecating gesture."Oh, yeh needn't mind, Henry," he said. "I be-lieve I was a pretty big fool in those days." Hespoke as after a lapse of years.

There was a little pause.

"All th' officers say we've got th' rebs ina pretty tight box," said the friend, clearinghis throat in a commonplace way. "They allseem t' think we've got 'em jest where wewant 'em."

"I don't know about that," the youth replied."What I seen over on th' right makes me thinkit was th' other way about. From where I was,it looked as if we was gettin' a good poundin'yestirday."

"D'yeh think so?" inquired the friend. "Ithought we handled 'em pretty rough yestir-day."

"Not a bit," said the youth. "Why, lord,man, you didn't see nothing of the fight. Why!"Then a sudden thought came to him. "Oh!Jim Conklin's dead."

His friend started. "What? Is he? JimConklin?"

The youth spoke slowly. "Yes. He's dead.Shot in th' side."

"Yeh don't say so. Jim Conklin. . . . poorcuss!"

All about them were other small fires sur-rounded by men with their little black utensils.From one of these near came sudden sharpvoices in a row. It appeared that two light-footed soldiers had been teasing a huge, beardedman, causing him to spill coffee upon his blueknees. The man had gone into a rage and hadsworn comprehensively. Stung by his language,his tormentors had immediately bristled at himwith a great show of resenting unjust oaths.Possibly there was going to be a fight.

The friend arose and went over to them, mak-ing pacific motions with his arms. "Oh, here,now, boys, what's th' use?" he said. "We'llbe at th' rebs in less'n an hour. What's th'good fightin' 'mong ourselves?"

One of the light-footed soldiers turned uponhim red-faced and violent. "Yeh needn't comearound here with yer preachin'. I s'pose yehdon't approve 'a fightin' since Charley Morganlicked yeh; but I don't see what business thishere is 'a yours or anybody else."

"Well, it ain't," said the friend mildly. "StillI hate t' see--"

There was a tangled argument.

"Well, he--," said the two, indicating theiropponent with accusative forefingers.

The huge soldier was quite purple with rage.He pointed at the two soldiers with his greathand, extended clawlike. "Well, they--"

But during this argumentative time the de-sire to deal blows seemed to pass, although theysaid much to each other. Finally the friend re-turned to his old seat. In a short while thethree antagonists could be seen together in anamiable bunch.

"Jimmie Rogers ses I'll have t' fight himafter th' battle t'-day," announced the friend ashe again seated himself. "He ses he don'tallow no interferin' in his business. I hate t' seeth' boys fightin' 'mong themselves."

The youth laughed. "Yer changed a goodbit. Yeh ain't at all like yeh was. I rememberwhen you an' that Irish feller--" He stoppedand laughed again.

"No, I didn't use t' be that way," said hisfriend thoughtfully. "That's true 'nough."

"Well, I didn't mean--" began the youth.

The friend made another deprecatory gesture."Oh, yeh needn't mind, Henry."

There was another little pause.

"Th' reg'ment lost over half th' men yestir-day," remarked the friend eventually. "I thoughta course they was all dead, but, laws, they kep'a-comin' back last night until it seems, after all,we didn't lose but a few. They'd been scatteredall over, wanderin' around in th' woods, fightin'with other reg'ments, an' everything. Jest likeyou done."

"So?" said the youth.