CHAPTER XIV.
When the youth awoke it seemed to him that he had been asleep for athousand years, and he felt sure that he opened his eyes upon anunexpected world. Gray mists were slowly shifting before the firstefforts of the sun rays. An impending splendor could be seen in theeastern sky. An icy dew had chilled his face, and immediately uponarousing he curled farther down into his blanket. He stared for awhile at the leaves overhead, moving in a heraldic wind of the day.
The distance was splintering and blaring with the noise of fighting.There was in the sound an expression of a deadly persistency, as if ithad not begun and was not to cease.
About him were the rows and groups of men that he had dimly seen theprevious night. They were getting a last draught of sleep before theawakening. The gaunt, careworn features and dusty figures were madeplain by this quaint light at the dawning, but it dressed the skin ofthe men in corpselike hues and made the tangled limbs appear pulselessand dead. The youth started up with a little cry when his eyes firstswept over this motionless mass of men, thick-spread upon the ground,pallid, and in strange postures. His disordered mind interpreted thehall of the forest as a charnel place. He believed for an instant thathe was in the house of the dead, and he did not dare to move lest thesecorpses start up, squalling and squawking. In a second, however, heachieved his proper mind. He swore a complicated oath at himself. Hesaw that this somber picture was not a fact of the present, but a mereprophecy.
He heard then the noise of a fire crackling briskly in the cold air,and, turning his head, he saw his friend pottering busily about a smallblaze. A few other figures moved in the fog, and he heard the hardcracking of axe blows.
Suddenly there was a hollow rumble of drums. A distant bugle sangfaintly. Similar sounds, varying in strength, came from near and farover the forest. The bugles called to each other like brazengamecocks. The near thunder of the regimental drums rolled.
The body of men in the woods rustled. There was a general uplifting ofheads. A murmuring of voices broke upon the air. In it there was muchbass of grumbling oaths. Strange gods were addressed in condemnationof the early hours necessary to correct war. An officer's peremptorytenor rang out and quickened the stiffened movement of the men. Thetangled limbs unraveled. The corpse-hued faces were hidden behindfists that twisted slowly in the eye sockets.
The youth sat up and gave vent to an enormous yawn. "Thunder!" heremarked petulantly. He rubbed his eyes, and then putting up his handfelt carefully of the bandage over his wound. His friend, perceivinghim to be awake, came from the fire. "Well, Henry, ol' man, how do yehfeel this mornin'?" he demanded.
The youth yawned again. Then he puckered his mouth to a little pucker.His head, in truth, felt precisely like a melon, and there was anunpleasant sensation at his stomach.
"Oh, Lord, I feel pretty bad," he said.
"Thunder!" exclaimed the other. "I hoped ye'd feel all right thismornin'. Let's see th' bandage--I guess it's slipped." He began totinker at the wound in rather a clumsy way until the youth exploded.
"Gosh-dern it!" he said in sharp irritation; "you're the hangdest man Iever saw! You wear muffs on your hands. Why in good thunderationcan't you be more easy? I'd rather you'd stand off an' throw guns atit. Now, go slow, an' don't act as if you was nailing down carpet."
He glared with insolent command at his friend, but the latter answeredsoothingly. "Well, well, come now, an' git some grub," he said. "Then,maybe, yeh'll feel better."
At the fireside the loud young soldier watched over his comrade's wantswith tenderness and care. He was very busy marshaling the little blackvagabonds of tin cups and pouring into them the streaming, iron coloredmixture from a small and sooty tin pail. He had some fresh meat, whichhe roasted hurriedly upon a stick. He sat down then and contemplatedthe youth's appetite with glee.
The youth took note of a remarkable change in his comrade since thosedays of camp life upon the river bank. He seemed no more to becontinually regarding the proportions of his personal prowess. He wasnot furious at small words that pricked his conceits. He was no more aloud young soldier. There was about him now a fine reliance. Heshowed a quiet belief in his purposes and his abilities. And thisinward confidence evidently enabled him to be indifferent to littlewords of other men aimed at him.
The youth reflected. He had been used to regarding his comrade as ablatant child with an audacity grown from his inexperience,thoughtless, headstrong, jealous, and filled with a tinsel courage. Aswaggering babe accustomed to strut in his own dooryard. The youthwondered where had been born these new eyes; when his comrade had madethe great discovery that there were many men who would refuse to besubjected by him. Apparently, the other had now climbed a peak ofwisdom from which he could perceive himself as a very wee thing. Andthe youth saw that ever after it would be easier to live in hisfriend's neighborhood.
His comrade balanced his ebony coffee-cup on his knee. "Well, Henry,"he said, "what d'yeh think th' chances are? D'yeh think we'll wallop'em?"
The youth considered for a moment. "Day-b'fore-yesterday," he finallyreplied, with boldness, "you would 'a' bet you'd lick the hullkit-an'-boodle all by yourself."
His friend looked a trifle amazed. "Would I?" he asked. He pondered."Well, perhaps I would," he decided at last. He stared humbly at thefire.
The youth was quite disconcerted at this surprising reception of hisremarks. "Oh, no, you wouldn't either," he said, hastily trying toretrace.
But the other made a deprecating gesture. "Oh, yeh needn't mind,Henry," he said. "I believe 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 in a pretty tight box," saidthe friend, clearing his throat in a commonplace way. "They all seemt' think we've got 'em jest where we want 'em."
"I don't know about that," the youth replied. "What I seen over on th'right makes me think it was th' other way about. From where I was, itlooked as if we was gettin' a good poundin' yestirday."
"D'yeh think so?" inquired the friend. "I thought we handled 'empretty rough yestirday."
"Not a bit," said the youth. "Why, lord, man, you didn't see nothingof the fight. Why!" Then a sudden thought came to him. "Oh! JimConklin's dead."
His friend started. "What? Is he? Jim Conklin?"
The youth spoke slowly. "Yes. He's dead. Shot in th' side."
"Yeh don't say so. Jim Conklin. . . . poor cuss!"
All about them were other small fires surrounded by men with theirlittle black utensils. From one of these near came sudden sharp voicesin a row. It appeared that two light-footed soldiers had been teasinga huge, bearded man, causing him to spill coffee upon his blue knees.The man had gone into a rage and had sworn comprehensively. Stung byhis language, his tormentors had immediately bristled at him with agreat show of resenting unjust oaths. Possibly there was going to be afight.
The friend arose and went over to them, making pacific motions with hisarms. "Oh, here, now, boys, what's th' use?" he said. "We'll be atth' rebs in less'n an hour. What's th' good fightin' 'mong ourselves?"
One of the light-footed soldiers turned upon him red-faced and violent."Yeh needn't come around here with yer preachin'. I s'pose yeh don'tapprove 'a fightin' since Charley Morgan licked yeh; but I don't seewhat business this here is 'a yours or anybody else."
"Well, it ain't," said the friend mildly. "Still I hate t' see--"
There was a tangled argument.
"Well, he--," said the two, indicating their opponent with accusativeforefingers.
The huge soldier was quite purple with rage. He pointed at the twosoldiers with his great hand, extended clawlike. "Well, they--"
But during this argumentative time the desire to deal blows seemed topass, although they said much to each other. Finally the friendreturned to his old seat. In a short while the three antagonists couldbe seen together in an amiable bunch.
&nb
sp; "Jimmie Rogers ses I'll have t' fight him after th' battle t'-day,"announced the friend as he again seated himself. "He ses he don'tallow no interferin' in his business. I hate t' see th' boys fightin''mong themselves."
The youth laughed. "Yer changed a good bit. Yeh ain't at all like yehwas. I remember when you an' that Irish feller--" He stopped andlaughed again.
"No, I didn't use t' be that way," said his friend 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 yestirday," remarked the friendeventually. "I thought a course they was all dead, but, laws, theykep' a-comin' back last night until it seems, after all, we didn't losebut a few. They'd been scattered all over, wanderin' around in th'woods, fightin' with other reg'ments, an' everything. Jest like youdone."
"So?" said the youth.