A SPUTTERING of musketry was always to beheard. Later, the cannon had entered the dis-pute. In the fog-filled air their voices made athudding sound. The reverberations were con-tinued. This part of the world led a strange,battleful existence.

The youth's regiment was marched to relievea command that had lain long in some damptrenches. The men took positions behind a curv-ing line of rifle pits that had been turned up, likea large furrow, along the line of woods. Beforethem was a level stretch, peopled with short,deformed stumps. From the woods beyondcame the dull popping of the skirmishers andpickets, firing in the fog. From the right camethe noise of a terrific fracas.

The men cuddled behind the small embank-ment and sat in easy attitudes awaiting theirturn. Many had their backs to the firing. Theyouth's friend lay down, buried his face in his

154arms, and almost instantly, it seemed, he was in adeep sleep.

The youth leaned his breast against thebrown dirt and peered over at the woods and upand down the line. Curtains of trees interferedwith his ways of vision. He could see the lowline of trenches but for a short distance. A fewidle flags were perched on the dirt hills. Behindthem were rows of dark bodies with a few headssticking curiously over the top.

Always the noise of skirmishers came fromthe woods on the front and left, and the din onthe right had grown to frightful proportions.The guns were roaring without an instant's pausefor breath. It seemed that the cannon had comefrom all parts and were engaged in a stupendouswrangle. 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, "Allquiet on the Rappahannock," but the guns refusedto permit even a comment upon their uproar.He never successfully concluded the sentence.But at last the guns stopped, and among themen in the rifle pits rumors again flew, like birds,but they were now for the most part blackcreatures who flapped their wings drearily nearto the ground and refused to rise on any wings ofhope. The men's faces grew doleful from theinterpreting of omens. Tales of hesitation anduncertainty on the part of those high in place andresponsibility came to their ears. Stories ofdisaster were borne into their minds with manyproofs. This din of musketry on the right, grow-ing like a released genie of sound, expressed andemphasized the army's plight.

The men were disheartened and began tomutter. They made gestures expressive of thesentence: "Ah, what more can we do?" And itcould always be seen that they were bewilderedby 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 carefullythrough the woods. The disordered, hurryinglines of the enemy could sometimes be seen downthrough the groves and little fields. They wereyelling, shrill and exultant.

At this sight the youth forgot many personalmatters and became greatly enraged. He ex-ploded in loud sentences. "B'jiminey, we'regeneraled by a lot 'a lunkheads."

"More than one feller has said that t'-day,"observed a man.

His friend, recently aroused, was still verydrowsy. He looked behind him until his mindtook in the meaning of the movement. Then hesighed. "Oh, well, I s'pose we got licked," heremarked sadly.

The youth had a thought that it would not behandsome for him to freely condemn other men.He made an attempt to restrain himself, but thewords upon his tongue were too bitter. Hepresently began a long and intricate denunciationof 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 ourluck t' git licked often," said his friend in a wearytone. He was trudging along with stoopedshoulders and shifting eyes like a man who hasbeen caned and kicked.

"Well, don't we fight like the devil? Don'twe do all that men can?" demanded the youthloudly.

He was secretly dumfounded at this sentimentwhen it came from his lips. For a moment hisface lost its valor and he looked guiltily abouthim. But no one questioned his right to deal insuch words, and presently he recovered his airof courage. He went on to repeat a statementhe had heard going from group to group at thecamp that morning. "The brigadier said henever saw a new reg'ment fight the way wefought yestirday, didn't he? And we didn't dobetter than many another reg'ment, did we?Well, then, you can't say it's th' army's fault, canyou?"

In his reply, the friend's voice was stern. "'Acourse not," he said. "No man dare say wedon't fight like th' devil. No man will ever daresay it. Th' boys fight like hell-roosters. Butstill--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 Idon't see any sense in fighting and fighting andfighting, yet always losing through some dernedold lunkhead of a general."

A sarcastic man who was tramping at theyouth's side, then spoke lazily. "Mebbe yehthink yeh fit th' hull battle yestirday, Fleming,"he remarked.

The speech pierced the youth. Inwardly hewas reduced to an abject pulp by these chancewords. His legs quaked privately. He cast afrightened glance at the sarcastic man.

"Why, no," he hastened to say in a concili-ating voice, "I don't think I fought the wholebattle yesterday."

But the other seemed innocent of any deepermeaning. Apparently, he had no information.It was merely his habit. "Oh!" he replied in thesame tone of calm derision.

The youth, nevertheless, felt a threat. Hismind shrank from going near to the danger, andthereafter he was silent. The significance of thesarcastic man's words took from him all loudmoods 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, theircountenances clouded with the tales of misfor-tune. The troops, sifting through the forest,were sullen. In the youth's company once aman's laugh rang out. A dozen soldiers turnedtheir faces quickly toward him and frowned withvague displeasure.

The noise of firing dogged their footsteps.Sometimes, it seemed to be driven a little way,but it always returned again with increasedinsolence. 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 detachedthrough their encounters with thickets, grewtogether again and lines were faced toward thepursuing bark of the enemy's infantry.

This noise, following like the yellings of eager,metallic hounds, increased to a loud and joyousburst, and then, as the sun went serenely up thesky, throwing illuminating rays into the gloomythickets, 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 asth' sun got fairly up," savagely asserted thelieutenant who commanded the youth's company.He jerked without mercy at his little mustache.He strode to and fro with dark dignity in therear of his men, who were lying down behindwhatever protection they had collected.

A battery had trundled into position in therear and was thoughtfully shelling the distance.The regiment, unmolested as yet, awaited themoment when the gray shadows of the woodsbefore them should be slashed by the lines offlame. There was much growling and swearing.

"Good Gawd," the youth grumbled, "we'realways being chased around like rats! It makesme sick. Nobody seems to know where we goor why we go. We just get fired around frompillar to post and get licked here and get lickedthere, and nobody knows what it's done for. Itmakes a man feel like a damn' kitten in a bag.Now, I'd like to know what the eternal thunderswe was marched into these woods for anyhow,unless it was to give the rebs a regular pot shotat us. We came in here and got our legs alltangled up in these cussed briers, and then webegin to fight and the rebs had an easy time of it.Don't tell me it's just luck! I know better. It'sthis derned old--"

The friend seemed jaded, but he interruptedhis 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 adog-hanged parson. Don't tell me! I know--"

At this time there was an interposition by thesavage-minded lieutenant, who was obliged tovent some of his inward dissatisfaction upon hismen. "You boys shut right up! There noneed 'a your wastin' your breath in long-windedarguments about this an' that an' th' other.You've been jawin' like a lot 'a old hens. Allyou've got t' do is to fight, an' you'll get plenty 'athat t' do in about ten minutes. Less talkin' an'more fightin' is what's best for you boys. I neversaw sech gabbling jackasses."

He paused, ready to pounce upon any manwho might have the temerity to reply. No wordsbeing said, he resumed his dignified pacing.

"There's too much chin music an' too littlefightin' in this war, anyhow," he said to them,turning his head for a final remark.

The day had grown more white, until the sunshed his full radiance upon the thronged forest.A sort of a gust of battle came sweeping towardthat 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 fieldthere passed slowly the intense moments that pre-cede the tempest.

A single rifle flashed in a thicket before theregiment. In an instant it was joined by manyothers. There was a mighty song of clashes andcrashes that went sweeping through the woods.The guns in the rear, aroused and enraged byshells that had been thrown burlike at them,suddenly involved themselves in a hideous alter-cation with another band of guns. The battleroar settled to a rolling thunder, which was asingle, long explosion.

In the regiment there was a peculiar kind ofhesitation denoted in the attitudes of the men.They were worn, exhausted, having slept but lit-tle and labored much. They rolled their eyestoward the advancing battle as they stood await-ing the shock. Some shrank and flinched. Theystood as men tied to stakes.