THE ragged line had respite for some min-utes, but during its pause the struggle in theforest became magnified until the trees seemed toquiver from the firing and the ground to shakefrom the rushing of the men. The voices of thecannon were mingled in a long and interminablerow. It seemed difficult to live in such an atmos-phere. The chests of the men strained for a bitof freshness, and their throats craved water.

There was one shot through the body, whoraised a cry of bitter lamentation when came thislull. Perhaps he had been calling out duringthe fighting also, but at that time no one hadheard him. But now the men turned at the woe-ful complaints of him upon the ground.

"Who is it? Who is it?"

"It's Jimmie Rogers. Jimmie Rogers."

When their eyes first encountered him therewas a sudden halt, as if they feared to go near.He was thrashing about in the grass, twisting his

171shuddering body into many strange postures.He was screaming loudly. This instant's hesita-tion seemed to fill him with a tremendous, fantas-tic contempt, and he damned them in shriekedsentences.

The youth's friend had a geographical illusionconcerning a stream, and he obtained permissionto go for some water. Immediately canteenswere showered upon him. "Fill mine, willyeh?" "Bring me some, too." "And me, too."He departed, ladened. The youth went with hisfriend, feeling a desire to throw his heated bodyonto the stream and, soaking there, drink quarts.

They made a hurried search for the supposedstream, but did not find it. "No water here,"said the youth. They turned without delay andbegan to retrace their steps.

From their position as they again faced to-ward the place of the fighting, they could ofcourse comprehend a greater amount of the bat-tle than when their visions had been blurred bythe hurling smoke of the line. They could seedark stretches winding along the land, and onone cleared space there was a row of guns mak-ing gray clouds, which were filled with largeflashes of orange-colored flame. Over some foli-age they could see the roof of a house. One win-dow, glowing a deep murder red, shone squarelythrough the leaves. From the edifice a tall lean-ing tower of smoke went far into the sky.

Looking over their own troops, they sawmixed masses slowly getting into regular form.The sunlight made twinkling points of the brightsteel. To the rear there was a glimpse of a dis-tant roadway as it curved over a slope. It wascrowded with retreating infantry. From all theinterwoven forest arose the smoke and blusterof the battle. The air was always occupied bya blaring.

Near where they stood shells were flip-flap-ping and hooting. Occasional bullets buzzed inthe air and spanged into tree trunks. Woundedmen and other stragglers were slinking throughthe woods.

Looking down an aisle of the grove, theyouth and his companion saw a jangling generaland his staff almost ride upon a wounded man,who was crawling on his hands and knees. Thegeneral reined strongly at his charger's openedand foamy mouth and guided it with dexteroushorsemanship past the man. The latter scram-bled in wild and torturing haste. His strengthevidently failed him as he reached a place ofsafety. One of his arms suddenly weakened, andhe fell, sliding over upon his back. He laystretched out, breathing gently.

A moment later the small, creaking cavalcadewas directly in front of the two soldiers. An-other officer, riding with the skillful abandon of acowboy, galloped his horse to a position directlybefore the general. The two unnoticed foot sol-diers made a little show of going on, but theylingered near in the desire to overhear the con-versation. Perhaps, they thought, some greatinner historical things would be said.

The general, whom the boys knew as the com-mander of their division, looked at the otherofficer and spoke coolly, as if he were criticisinghis clothes. "Th' enemy's formin' over there foranother charge," he said. "It'll be directedagainst Whiterside, an' I fear they'll breakthrough there unless we work like thunder t' stopthem."

The other swore at his restive horse, and thencleared his throat. He made a gesture towardhis cap. "It'll be hell t' pay stoppin' them," hesaid shortly.

"I presume so," remarked the general. Thenhe began to talk rapidly and in a lower tone. Hefrequently illustrated his words with a pointingfinger. The two infantrymen could hear nothinguntil finally he asked: "What troops can youspare?"

The officer who rode like a cowboy reflectedfor an instant. "Well," he said, "I had to orderin th' 12th to help th' 76th, an' I haven't really gotany. But there's th' 304th. They fight like alot 'a mule drivers. I can spare them bestof any."

The youth and his friend exchanged glancesof astonishment.

The general spoke sharply. "Get 'em ready,then. I'll watch developments from here, an'send you word when t' start them. It'll happenin five minutes."

As the other officer tossed his fingers towardhis cap and wheeling his horse, started away, thegeneral called out to him in a sober voice: "Idon't believe many of your mule drivers will getback."

The other shouted something in reply. Hesmiled.

With scared faces, the youth and his compan-ion hurried back to the line.

These happenings had occupied an incrediblyshort time, yet the youth felt that in them he hadbeen made aged. New eyes were given to him.And the most startling thing was to learn sud-denly that he was very insignificant. The officerspoke of the regiment as if he referred to abroom. Some part of the woods needed sweep-ing, perhaps, and he merely indicated a broom ina tone properly indifferent to its fate. It waswar, no doubt, but it appeared strange.

As the two boys approached the line, the lieu-tenant perceived them and swelled with wrath."Fleming--Wilson--how long does it take yehto git water, anyhow--where yeh been to."

But his oration ceased as he saw their eyes,which were large with great tales. "We're goin't' charge--we're goin' t' charge!" cried theyouth's friend, hastening with his news.

"Charge?" said the lieutenant. "Charge?Well, b'Gawd! Now, this is real fightin'." Overhis soiled countenance there went a boastfulsmile. "Charge? Well, b'Gawd!"

A little group of soldiers surrounded the twoyouths. "Are we, sure 'nough? Well, I'll bederned! Charge? What fer? What at? Wil-son, you're lyin'."

"I hope to die," said the youth, pitching histones to the key of angry remonstrance. "Sureas shooting, I tell you."

And his friend spoke in re-enforcement. "Notby a blame sight, he ain't lyin'. We heard 'emtalkin'."

They caught sight of two mounted figures ashort distance from them. One was the colonelof the regiment and the other was the officer whohad received orders from the commander of thedivision. They were gesticulating at each other.The soldier, pointing at them, interpreted thescene.

One man had a final objection: "How couldyeh hear 'em talkin'?" But the men, for a largepart, nodded, admitting that previously the twofriends had spoken truth.

They settled back into reposeful attitudeswith airs of having accepted the matter. Andthey mused upon it, with a hundred varieties ofexpression. It was an engrossing thing to thinkabout. Many tightened their belts carefully andhitched at their trousers.

A moment later the officers began to bustleamong the men, pushing them into a more com-pact mass and into a better alignment. Theychased those that straggled and fumed at a fewmen who seemed to show by their attitudes thatthey had decided to remain at that spot. Theywere like critical shepherds struggling with sheep.

Presently, the regiment seemed to draw itselfup and heave a deep breath. None of the men'sfaces were mirrors of large thoughts. The sol-diers were bended and stooped like sprinters be-fore a signal. Many pairs of glinting eyes peeredfrom the grimy faces toward the curtains of thedeeper woods. They seemed to be engaged indeep calculations of time and distance.

They were surrounded by the noises of themonstrous altercation between the two armies.The world was fully interested in other matters.Apparently, the regiment had its small affair toitself.

The youth, turning, shot a quick, inquiringglance at his friend. The latter returned to himthe same manner of look. They were the onlyones who possessed an inner knowledge. "Muledrivers--hell t' pay--don't believe many will getback." It was an ironical secret. Still, they sawno hesitation in each other's faces, and they nod-ded a mute and unprotesting assent when a shag-gy man near them said in a meek voice: "We'llgit swallowed."