Chapter 1

16 min

The cold passed reluctantly from the earth, and the retiring fogs revealed an army stretched out on the hills, resting. As the landscape changed from brown to green, the army awakened, and began to tremble with eagerness at the noise of rumors. It cast its eyes upon the roads, which were growing from long troughs of liquid mud to proper thoroughfares. A river, amber-tinted in the shadow of its banks, purled at the army’s feet; and at night, when the stream had become of a sorrowful blackness, one could see across it the red, eyelike gleam of hostile camp-fires set in the low brows of distant hills.

The cold left the earth reluctantly, and the fading fog revealed an army resting across the hills. As the landscape changed from brown to green, the army awoke. It began to tremble with eagerness at the sound of rumors. The soldiers watched the roads change from long channels of liquid mud into proper roads. A river rippled at the army’s feet, amber in the shadow of its banks. At night, the river turned a mournful black. Across the water, enemy campfires glowed like red eyes beneath the low brows of distant hills.

Once a certain tall soldier developed virtues and went resolutely to wash a shirt. He came flying back from a brook waving his garment bannerlike. He was swelled with a tale he had heard from a reliable friend, who had heard it from a truthful cavalryman, who had heard it from his trustworthy brother, one of the orderlies at division headquarters. He adopted the important air of a herald in red and gold.

Once, a certain tall soldier became virtuous and went off determined to wash a shirt. He came flying back from a stream, waving his shirt like a banner. He was bursting with a story he had heard from a reliable friend. The friend had heard it from a truthful cavalryman, who had heard it from his trustworthy brother. The brother was an orderly at division headquarters. The tall soldier took on the self-important air of a herald dressed in red and gold.

“We’re goin’ t’ move t’morrah—sure,” he said pompously to a group in the company street. “We’re goin’ ’way up the river, cut across, an’ come around in behint ’em.”

“We’re moving tomorrow, for sure,” he said pompously to a group in the company street. “We’re going way up the river, crossing over, and coming around behind them.”

To his attentive audience he drew a loud and elaborate plan of a very brilliant campaign. When he had finished, the blue-clothed men scattered into small arguing groups between the rows of squat brown huts. A negro teamster who had been dancing upon a cracker box with the hilarious encouragement of twoscore soldiers was deserted. He sat mournfully down. Smoke drifted lazily from a multitude of quaint chimneys.

He loudly laid out an elaborate plan for a brilliant campaign to his attentive audience. When he finished, the men in blue scattered into small groups between the rows of low brown huts. They began to argue. A Black teamster had been dancing on a cracker box while forty soldiers cheered him on. Now they left him alone, and he sat down sadly. Smoke drifted lazily from many quaint chimneys.

“It’s a lie! that’s all it is—a thunderin’ lie!” said another private loudly. His smooth face was flushed, and his hands were thrust sulkily into his trouser’s pockets. He took the matter as an affront to him. “I don’t believe the derned old army’s ever going to move. We’re set. I’ve got ready to move eight times in the last two weeks, and we ain’t moved yet.”

“It’s a lie! That’s all it is, a thundering lie!” another private said loudly. His smooth face was flushed, and he had shoved his hands sulkily into his pants pockets. He took the matter as a personal insult. “I don’t believe this darned old army is ever going to move. We’re settled here. I’ve gotten ready to move eight times in the last two weeks, and we still haven’t moved.”

The tall soldier felt called upon to defend the truth of a rumor he himself had introduced. He and the loud one came near to fighting over it.

The tall soldier felt he had to defend a rumor he had started himself. He and the loud soldier nearly came to blows over the rumor.

A corporal began to swear before the assemblage. He had just put a costly board floor in his house, he said. During the early spring he had refrained from adding extensively to the comfort of his environment because he had felt that the army might start on the march at any moment. Of late, however, he had been impressed that they were in a sort of eternal camp.

A corporal began swearing in front of the group. He said he had just put an expensive board floor in his house. Early that spring, he had avoided making many improvements to his living quarters. He had thought the army might march at any moment. Lately, though, he had come to feel that they were camped there for good.

Many of the men engaged in a spirited debate. One outlined in a peculiarly lucid manner all the plans of the commanding general. He was opposed by men who advocated that there were other plans of campaign. They clamored at each other, numbers making futile bids for the popular attention. Meanwhile, the soldier who had fetched the rumor bustled about with much importance. He was continually assailed by questions.

Many of the men argued heatedly. One explained all the commanding general’s plans with unusual clarity. Others disagreed, arguing that there were other campaign plans. They shouted at one another, and many tried in vain to get everyone’s attention. Meanwhile, the soldier who had brought the rumor busied himself, acting very important. The men kept bombarding him with questions.

“What’s up, Jim?”

“Th’army’s goin’ t’ move.”

“The army’s going to move.”

“Ah, what yeh talkin’ about? How yeh know it is?”

“Ah, what are you talking about? How do you know it is?”

“Well, yeh kin b’lieve me er not, jest as yeh like. I don’t care a hang.”

“Well, you can believe me or not, whatever you like. I don’t care at all.”

There was much food for thought in the manner in which he replied. He came near to convincing them by disdaining to produce proofs. They grew much excited over it.

The way he answered gave them a lot to think about. He nearly convinced them by refusing to offer proof. They became very excited about it.

There was a youthful private who listened with eager ears to the words of the tall soldier and to the varied comments of his comrades. After receiving a fill of discussions concerning marches and attacks, he went to his hut and crawled through an intricate hole that served it as a door. He wished to be alone with some new thoughts that had lately come to him.

A young private listened eagerly to the tall soldier and the varied comments of his comrades. After hearing enough discussion of marches and attacks, he went to his hut. He crawled through the complicated opening that served as its door. He wanted to be alone with some new thoughts that had recently come to him.

He lay down on a wide bunk that stretched across the end of the room. In the other end, cracker boxes were made to serve as furniture. They were grouped about the fireplace. A picture from an illustrated weekly was upon the log walls, and three rifles were paralleled on pegs. Equipments hung on handy projections, and some tin dishes lay upon a small pile of firewood. A folded tent was serving as a roof. The sunlight, without, beating upon it, made it glow a light yellow shade. A small window shot an oblique square of whiter light upon the cluttered floor. The smoke from the fire at times neglected the clay chimney and wreathed into the room, and this flimsy chimney of clay and sticks made endless threats to set ablaze the whole establishment.

He lay down on a wide bunk that stretched across one end of the room. At the other end, cracker boxes served as furniture. They were grouped around the fireplace. A picture from an illustrated weekly hung on the log walls, and three rifles rested side by side on pegs. Equipment hung from convenient projections, and some tin dishes lay on a small pile of firewood. A folded tent served as a roof. Sunlight beating down on it from outside made it glow pale yellow. A small window cast a slanting square of whiter light onto the cluttered floor. At times, smoke from the fire escaped the clay chimney and curled into the room. The flimsy chimney, made of clay and sticks, constantly threatened to set the whole place ablaze.

The youth was in a little trance of astonishment. So they were at last going to fight. On the morrow, perhaps, there would be a battle, and he would be in it. For a time he was obliged to labor to make himself believe. He could not accept with assurance an omen that he was about to mingle in one of those great affairs of the earth.

The young man was almost dazed with astonishment. So they were finally going to fight. Perhaps there would be a battle tomorrow, and he would be in it. For a while, he struggled to believe it. He could not be sure that this meant he was about to take part in one of the world’s great events.

He had, of course, dreamed of battles all his life—of vague and bloody conflicts that had thrilled him with their sweep and fire. In visions he had seen himself in many struggles. He had imagined peoples secure in the shadow of his eagle-eyed prowess. But awake he had regarded battles as crimson blotches on the pages of the past. He had put them as things of the bygone with his thought-images of heavy crowns and high castles. There was a portion of the world’s history which he had regarded as the time of wars, but it, he thought, had been long gone over the horizon and had disappeared forever.

He had, of course, dreamed of battles all his life. These were vague, bloody conflicts whose sweep and fire had thrilled him. In his visions, he had seen himself fighting in many struggles. He had imagined entire peoples safe under the protection of his eagle-eyed skill. But when awake, he had thought of battles as red stains on the pages of history. He had placed them in the distant past, alongside his mental pictures of heavy crowns and towering castles. He believed there had been an age of wars in world history. But he thought that age had long since passed beyond the horizon and disappeared forever.

From his home his youthful eyes had looked upon the war in his own country with distrust. It must be some sort of a play affair. He had long despaired of witnessing a Greeklike struggle. Such would be no more, he had said. Men were better, or more timid. Secular and religious education had effaced the throat-grappling instinct, or else firm finance held in check the passions.

From home, he had looked at the war in his own country with youthful distrust. It must be some kind of make-believe. He had long given up hope of seeing a struggle like those of ancient Greece. There would be no more such struggles, he had said. Men were better now, or more timid. Secular and religious education had erased their instinct to grapple for one another’s throats, or else sound finances kept their passions in check.

He had burned several times to enlist. Tales of great movements shook the land. They might not be distinctly Homeric, but there seemed to be much glory in them. He had read of marches, sieges, conflicts, and he had longed to see it all. His busy mind had drawn for him large pictures extravagant in color, lurid with breathless deeds.

Several times, he had burned with a desire to enlist. Stories of great military movements swept the country. They might not have been quite like the epic tales of Homer, but they seemed full of glory. He had read about marches, sieges, and battles, and he longed to see it all. His busy mind had painted grand, wildly colorful pictures, vivid with breathtaking deeds.

But his mother had discouraged him. She had affected to look with some contempt upon the quality of his war ardor and patriotism. She could calmly seat herself and with no apparent difficulty give him many hundreds of reasons why he was of vastly more importance on the farm than on the field of battle. She had had certain ways of expression that told him that her statements on the subject came from a deep conviction. Moreover, on her side, was his belief that her ethical motive in the argument was impregnable.

But his mother had discouraged him. She pretended to look down on the quality of his enthusiasm for war and his patriotism. She could calmly sit down and easily give him hundreds of reasons why he was far more important on the farm than on the battlefield. The way she expressed herself told him that her arguments came from deep conviction. Moreover, he believed that her moral grounds for opposing him were beyond challenge.

At last, however, he had made firm rebellion against this yellow light thrown upon the color of his ambitions. The newspapers, the gossip of the village, his own picturings, had aroused him to an uncheckable degree. They were in truth fighting finely down there. Almost every day the newspaper printed accounts of a decisive victory.

At last, however, he firmly rejected the fearful doubts that had clouded his ambitions. The newspapers, village gossip, and his own imagination had stirred him beyond restraint. The soldiers really were fighting bravely down there. Almost every day, the newspaper reported a decisive victory.

One night, as he lay in bed, the winds had carried to him the clangoring of the church bell as some enthusiast jerked the rope frantically to tell the twisted news of a great battle. This voice of the people rejoicing in the night had made him shiver in a prolonged ecstasy of excitement. Later, he had gone down to his mother’s room and had spoken thus: “Ma, I’m going to enlist.”

One night, as he lay in bed, the wind carried the clanging of the church bell to him. Someone was frantically pulling the rope to announce the distorted news of a great battle. This sound of the people rejoicing in the night made him shiver with a long rush of excitement. Later, he went down to his mother’s room and said: “Ma, I’m going to enlist.”

“Henry, don’t you be a fool,” his mother had replied. She had then covered her face with the quilt. There was an end to the matter for that night.

“Henry, don’t be a fool,” his mother replied. Then she covered her face with the quilt. That ended the discussion for the night.

Nevertheless, the next morning he had gone to a town that was near his mother’s farm and had enlisted in a company that was forming there. When he had returned home his mother was milking the brindle cow. Four others stood waiting. “Ma, I’ve enlisted,” he had said to her diffidently. There was a short silence. “The Lord’s will be done, Henry,” she had finally replied, and had then continued to milk the brindle cow.

Nevertheless, the next morning he went to a town near his mother’s farm. There he enlisted in a company that was forming. When he returned home, his mother was milking the brindle cow. Four other cows stood waiting. “Ma, I’ve enlisted,” he said shyly. There was a short silence. “The Lord’s will be done, Henry,” she finally replied. Then she continued to milk the brindle cow.

When he had stood in the doorway with his soldier’s clothes on his back, and with the light of excitement and expectancy in his eyes almost defeating the glow of regret for the home bonds, he had seen two tears leaving their trails on his mother’s scarred cheeks.

He had stood in the doorway wearing his soldier’s clothes. The excitement and expectation in his eyes had almost overcome his sadness at leaving home. He had seen two tears trace paths down his mother’s scarred cheeks.

Still, she had disappointed him by saying nothing whatever about returning with his shield or on it. He had privately primed himself for a beautiful scene. He had prepared certain sentences which he thought could be used with touching effect. But her words destroyed his plans. She had doggedly peeled potatoes and addressed him as follows: “You watch out, Henry, an’ take good care of yerself in this here fighting business—you watch, an’ take good care of yerself. Don’t go a-thinkin’ you can lick the hull rebel army at the start, because yeh can’t. Yer jest one little feller amongst a hull lot of others, and yeh’ve got to keep quiet an’ do what they tell yeh. I know how you are, Henry.

Still, she disappointed him by saying nothing about returning with his shield or on it. He had secretly prepared himself for a beautiful scene. He had planned certain things to say that he thought would be touching. But her words ruined his plans. She kept peeling potatoes and said to him: “You watch out, Henry, and take good care of yourself in this fighting. You watch out and take good care of yourself. Don’t go thinking you can beat the whole rebel army right at the start, because you can’t. You’re just one little fellow among a whole lot of others. You have to keep quiet and do what they tell you. I know how you are, Henry.

“I’ve knet yeh eight pair of socks, Henry, and I’ve put in all yer best shirts, because I want my boy to be jest as warm and comf’able as anybody in the army. Whenever they get holes in ’em, I want yeh to send ’em right-away back to me, so’s I kin dern ’em.

“I’ve knitted you eight pairs of socks, Henry, and I’ve packed all your best shirts. I want my boy to be just as warm and comfortable as anyone in the army. Whenever the socks get holes in them, send them right back to me so I can darn them.

“An’ allus be careful an’ choose yer comp’ny. There’s lots of bad men in the army, Henry. The army makes ’em wild, and they like nothing better than the job of leading off a young feller like you, as ain’t never been away from home much and has allus had a mother, an’ a-learning ’em to drink and swear. Keep clear of them folks, Henry. I don’t want yeh to ever do anything, Henry, that yeh would be ’shamed to let me know about. Jest think as if I was a-watchin’ yeh. If yeh keep that in yer mind allus, I guess yeh’ll come out about right.

“And always be careful about the company you keep. There are lots of bad men in the army, Henry. The army makes them wild. They love nothing better than leading a young fellow like you astray and teaching him to drink and swear. You have hardly ever been away from home and have always had a mother. Stay away from those people, Henry. I don't ever want you to do anything you would be ashamed to tell me about, Henry. Just imagine that I'm watching you. If you always keep that in mind, I think you'll turn out all right.

“Yeh must allus remember yer father, too, child, an’ remember he never drunk a drop of licker in his life, and seldom swore a cross oath.

“You must always remember your father too, child. Remember that he never drank a drop of liquor in his life and rarely swore.

“I don’t know what else to tell yeh, Henry, excepting that yeh must never do no shirking, child, on my account. If so be a time comes when yeh have to be kilt or do a mean thing, why, Henry, don’t think of anything ’cept what’s right, because there’s many a woman has to bear up ’ginst sech things these times, and the Lord’ll take keer of us all.

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Henry, except that you must never shirk your duty on my account, child. If a time comes when you have to choose between being killed and doing something dishonorable, Henry, think only of what is right. Because many women have to bear such things these days, and the Lord will take care of us all.

“Don’t forgit about the socks and the shirts, child; and I’ve put a cup of blackberry jam with yer bundle, because I know yeh like it above all things. Good-by, Henry. Watch out, and be a good boy.”

“Don’t forget the socks and shirts, child. I’ve put a cup of blackberry jam in your bundle because I know you like it better than anything. Goodbye, Henry. Be careful, and be a good boy.”

He had, of course, been impatient under the ordeal of this speech. It had not been quite what he expected, and he had borne it with an air of irritation. He departed feeling vague relief.

Of course, he had been impatient throughout the ordeal of listening to the speech. It was not quite what he had expected, and he had listened with an air of irritation. He left feeling vaguely relieved.

Still, when he had looked back from the gate, he had seen his mother kneeling among the potato parings. Her brown face, upraised, was stained with tears, and her spare form was quivering. He bowed his head and went on, feeling suddenly ashamed of his purposes.

Still, when he looked back from the gate, he saw his mother kneeling among the potato peels. Her raised brown face was stained with tears, and her thin body was trembling. He bowed his head and went on, suddenly ashamed of his intentions.

From his home he had gone to the seminary to bid adieu to many schoolmates. They had thronged about him with wonder and admiration. He had felt the gulf now between them and had swelled with calm pride. He and some of his fellows who had donned blue were quite overwhelmed with privileges for all of one afternoon, and it had been a very delicious thing. They had strutted.

He had gone from home to the seminary to say goodbye to many schoolmates. They had crowded around him in wonder and admiration. He had felt the distance between himself and his schoolmates and swelled with quiet pride. For one whole afternoon, he and some of his fellow soldiers in blue uniforms had enjoyed an abundance of privileges. It had been delightful. They had strutted.

A certain light-haired girl had made vivacious fun at his martial spirit, but there was another and darker girl whom he had gazed at steadfastly, and he thought she grew demure and sad at sight of his blue and brass. As he had walked down the path between the rows of oaks, he had turned his head and detected her at a window watching his departure. As he perceived her, she had immediately begun to stare up through the high tree branches at the sky. He had seen a good deal of flurry and haste in her movement as she changed her attitude. He often thought of it.

A fair-haired girl had playfully made fun of his eagerness for war. But there was another girl, with darker hair, whom he had gazed at steadily. He thought she became shy and sad when she saw his blue uniform and brass buttons. As he walked down the path between the rows of oaks, he turned his head. He saw her at a window, watching him leave. As soon as he saw her, she began staring up through the high branches at the sky. He saw how flustered and hurried she was as she changed her pose. He often thought about that moment.

On the way to Washington his spirit had soared. The regiment was fed and caressed at station after station until the youth had believed that he must be a hero. There was a lavish expenditure of bread and cold meats, coffee, and pickles and cheese. As he basked in the smiles of the girls and was patted and complimented by the old men, he had felt growing within him the strength to do mighty deeds of arms.

On the way to Washington, his spirits had soared. At station after station, people fed and fussed over the regiment. The young man came to believe he must be a hero. People gave them plenty of bread, cold meats, coffee, pickles, and cheese. Girls smiled at him, and old men patted him and praised him. As he enjoyed their attention, he felt the strength growing in him to perform great feats in battle.

After complicated journeyings with many pauses, there had come months of monotonous life in a camp. He had had the belief that real war was a series of death struggles with small time in between for sleep and meals; but since his regiment had come to the field the army had done little but sit still and try to keep warm.

After a complicated journey with many stops, they had spent months living a monotonous life in camp. He had believed that real war was a series of struggles to the death, with little time for sleep or meals. But since his regiment had arrived in the field, the army had done little but sit still and try to keep warm.

He was brought then gradually back to his old ideas. Greeklike struggles would be no more. Men were better, or more timid. Secular and religious education had effaced the throat-grappling instinct, or else firm finance held in check the passions.

Gradually, he returned to his old ideas. There would be no more struggles like those of the ancient Greeks. Men were better now, or more timid. Secular and religious education had erased the instinct to grapple for one another's throats. Or perhaps stable finances kept their passions in check.

He had grown to regard himself merely as a part of a vast blue demonstration. His province was to look out, as far as he could, for his personal comfort. For recreation he could twiddle his thumbs and speculate on the thoughts which must agitate the minds of the generals. Also, he was drilled and drilled and reviewed, and drilled and drilled and reviewed.

He had come to see himself as just one part of a vast show of blue uniforms. His job was to look after his own comfort as best he could. For amusement, he could twiddle his thumbs and wonder what thoughts must be troubling the generals. He was also drilled and drilled and inspected, and drilled and drilled and inspected.

The only foes he had seen were some pickets along the river bank. They were a sun-tanned, philosophical lot, who sometimes shot reflectively at the blue pickets. When reproached for this afterward, they usually expressed sorrow, and swore by their gods that the guns had exploded without their permission. The youth, on guard duty one night, conversed across the stream with one of them. He was a slightly ragged man, who spat skillfully between his shoes and possessed a great fund of bland and infantile assurance. The youth liked him personally.

The only enemies he had seen were some sentries along the riverbank. They were a sun-tanned, thoughtful bunch who sometimes fired thoughtfully at the sentries in blue. When scolded afterward for shooting, they usually said they were sorry. They swore by their gods that their guns had gone off without their permission. One night, while on guard duty, the youth spoke across the stream with one of them. The man was slightly ragged, spat skillfully between his shoes, and had a great deal of mild, childlike confidence. The youth liked him personally.

“Yank,” the other had informed him, “yer a right dum good feller.” This sentiment, floating to him upon the still air, had made him temporarily regret war.

“Yank,” the other had told him, “you’re a really good guy.” Those words drifted to him through the still air and made him briefly regret the war.

Various veterans had told him tales. Some talked of gray, bewhiskered hordes who were advancing with relentless curses and chewing tobacco with unspeakable valor; tremendous bodies of fierce soldiery who were sweeping along like the Huns. Others spoke of tattered and eternally hungry men who fired despondent powders. “They’ll charge through hell’s fire an’ brimstone t’ git a holt on a haversack, an’ sech stomachs ain’t a’lastin’ long,” he was told. From the stories, the youth imagined the red, live bones sticking out through slits in the faded uniforms.

Several veterans had told him stories. Some spoke of gray, bearded hordes advancing with relentless curses and chewing tobacco with indescribable courage. These vast bodies of fierce soldiers swept forward like the Huns. Others spoke of ragged, constantly hungry men who fired their guns in despair. “They’ll charge through hell’s fire and brimstone to get hold of a haversack, and men that hungry won’t last long,” he was told. From these stories, the youth imagined red, living bones sticking out through tears in their faded uniforms.

Still, he could not put a whole faith in veteran’s tales, for recruits were their prey. They talked much of smoke, fire, and blood, but he could not tell how much might be lies. They persistently yelled “Fresh fish!” at him, and were in no wise to be trusted.

Still, he could not fully believe the veterans’ stories, because they preyed on recruits. They talked a lot about smoke, fire, and blood, but he could not tell how much might be lies. They kept yelling “Fresh fish!” at him and could not be trusted at all.

However, he perceived now that it did not greatly matter what kind of soldiers he was going to fight, so long as they fought, which fact no one disputed. There was a more serious problem. He lay in his bunk pondering upon it. He tried to mathematically prove to himself that he would not run from a battle.

However, he now realized that it did not matter much what kind of soldiers he would fight, as long as they fought. No one doubted that they would fight. There was a more serious problem. He lay in his bunk thinking about it. He tried to prove to himself mathematically that he would not run from a battle.

Previously he had never felt obliged to wrestle too seriously with this question. In his life he had taken certain things for granted, never challenging his belief in ultimate success, and bothering little about means and roads. But here he was confronted with a thing of moment. It had suddenly appeared to him that perhaps in a battle he might run. He was forced to admit that as far as war was concerned he knew nothing of himself.

Before, he had never felt he had to think too seriously about this question. In his life, he had taken certain things for granted. He had never doubted that he would succeed in the end, and had given little thought to how. But now he faced a serious question. It had suddenly occurred to him that he might run away in battle. He had to admit that, when it came to war, he knew nothing about himself.

A sufficient time before he would have allowed the problem to kick its heels at the outer portals of his mind, but now he felt compelled to give serious attention to it.

Some time ago, he would have kept the problem at the edge of his mind. But now he felt compelled to think seriously about it.

A little panic-fear grew in his mind. As his imagination went forward to a fight, he saw hideous possibilities. He contemplated the lurking menaces of the future, and failed in an effort to see himself standing stoutly in the midst of them. He recalled his visions of broken-bladed glory, but in the shadow of the impending tumult he suspected them to be impossible pictures.

A small fear began to grow in his mind. As he imagined going into battle, he saw terrible possibilities. He thought about the dangers lurking in the future, but he could not picture himself standing firm among them. He remembered his visions of glory won with a broken blade. But with the chaos of battle looming, he suspected those visions were impossible.

He sprang from the bunk and began to pace nervously to and fro. “Good Lord, what’s th’ matter with me?” he said aloud.

He jumped out of the bunk and began pacing back and forth nervously. “Good Lord, what’s the matter with me?” he said aloud.

He felt that in this crisis his laws of life were useless. Whatever he had learned of himself was here of no avail. He was an unknown quantity. He saw that he would again be obliged to experiment as he had in early youth. He must accumulate information of himself, and meanwhile he resolved to remain close upon his guard lest those qualities of which he knew nothing should everlastingly disgrace him. “Good Lord!” he repeated in dismay.

He felt that his rules for living were useless in this crisis. Whatever he had learned about himself was no help here. He did not know how he would act. He saw that he would have to experiment again, as he had in his early youth. He had to learn more about himself. Meanwhile, he resolved to stay on guard, lest qualities he knew nothing about disgrace him forever. “Good Lord!” he repeated in dismay.

After a time the tall soldier slid dexterously through the hole. The loud private followed. They were wrangling.

After a while, the tall soldier slipped skillfully through the hole. The loud private followed. They were arguing.

“That’s all right,” said the tall soldier as he entered. He waved his hand expressively. “You can believe me or not, jest as you like. All you got to do is sit down and wait as quiet as you can. Then pretty soon you’ll find out I was right.”

“That’s all right,” said the tall soldier as he came in. He waved his hand expressively. “You can believe me or not, just as you like. All you have to do is sit down and wait as quietly as you can. Soon enough, you’ll find out I was right.”

His comrade grunted stubbornly. For a moment he seemed to be searching for a formidable reply. Finally he said: “Well, you don’t know everything in the world, do you?”

His comrade grunted stubbornly. For a moment, he seemed to be looking for a strong reply. Finally he said: “Well, you don’t know everything in the world, do you?”

“Didn’t say I knew everything in the world,” retorted the other sharply. He began to stow various articles snugly into his knapsack.

“I didn’t say I knew everything in the world,” the other replied sharply. He began packing various items snugly into his backpack.

The youth, pausing in his nervous walk, looked down at the busy figure. “Going to be a battle, sure, is there, Jim?” he asked.

The young man paused in his nervous pacing and looked down at the busy figure. “There’s definitely going to be a battle, Jim?” he asked.

“Of course there is,” replied the tall soldier. “Of course there is. You jest wait ’til to-morrow, and you’ll see one of the biggest battles ever was. You jest wait.”

“Of course there is,” replied the tall soldier. “Of course there is. Just wait until tomorrow, and you’ll see one of the biggest battles ever. Just wait.”

“Thunder!” said the youth.

“Damn!” said the young man.

“Oh, you’ll see fighting this time, my boy, what’ll be regular out-and-out fighting,” added the tall soldier, with the air of a man who is about to exhibit a battle for the benefit of his friends.

“Oh, you’ll see fighting this time, my boy. It’ll be real, full-on fighting,” added the tall soldier. He spoke as if he were about to put on a battle for his friends.

“Huh!” said the loud one from a corner.

“Well,” remarked the youth, “like as not this story’ll turn out jest like them others did.”

“Well,” said the young man, “this story will probably turn out just like the others did.”

“Not much it won’t,” replied the tall soldier, exasperated. “Not much it won’t. Didn’t the cavalry all start this morning?” He glared about him. No one denied his statement. “The cavalry started this morning,” he continued. “They say there ain’t hardly any cavalry left in camp. They’re going to Richmond, or some place, while we fight all the Johnnies. It’s some dodge like that. The regiment’s got orders, too. A feller what seen ’em go to headquarters told me a little while ago. And they’re raising blazes all over camp—anybody can see that.”

“It certainly will,” replied the tall soldier, exasperated. “It certainly will. Didn’t all the cavalry leave this morning?” He glared around him. No one denied it. “The cavalry left this morning,” he continued. “They say there’s hardly any cavalry left in camp. They’re going to Richmond, or some place, while we fight all the Johnnies. It’s some trick like that. The regiment has orders, too. A fellow who saw them go to headquarters told me a little while ago. And they’re stirring up a fuss all over camp. Anybody can see that.”

“Shucks!” said the loud one.

“Aw, come on!” said the loud one.

The youth remained silent for a time. At last he spoke to the tall soldier. “Jim!”

The young man was silent for a while. At last he spoke to the tall soldier. “Jim!”

“What?”

“How do you think the reg’ment ’ll do?”

“How do you think the regiment will do?”

“Oh, they’ll fight all right, I guess, after they once get into it,” said the other with cold judgment. He made a fine use of the third person. “There’s been heaps of fun poked at ’em because they’re new, of course, and all that; but they’ll fight all right, I guess.”

“Oh, I guess they’ll fight all right once they get into battle,” said the other, making a cool assessment. He made a point of referring to them as “they.” “Of course, people have made plenty of fun of them because they’re new, and all that. But I guess they’ll fight all right.”

“Think any of the boys ’ll run?” persisted the youth.

“Do you think any of the boys will run?” the young man asked again.

“Oh, there may be a few of ’em run, but there’s them kind in every regiment, ’specially when they first goes under fire,” said the other in a tolerant way. “Of course it might happen that the hull kit-and-boodle might start and run, if some big fighting came first-off, and then again they might stay and fight like fun. But you can’t bet on nothing. Of course they ain’t never been under fire yet, and it ain’t likely they’ll lick the hull rebel army all-to-oncet the first time; but I think they’ll fight better than some, if worse than others. That’s the way I figger. They call the reg’ment ‘Fresh fish’ and everything; but the boys come of good stock, and most of ’em ’ll fight like sin after they oncet git shootin’,” he added, with a mighty emphasis on the last four words.

“Oh, a few of them may run, but every regiment has men like that, especially when they first come under fire,” the other said tolerantly. “Of course, the whole bunch might start running if heavy fighting came right away. Then again, they might stay and fight like crazy. But you can’t bet on anything. Of course, they’ve never been under fire yet. They’re not likely to beat the whole rebel army at once their first time. But I think they’ll fight better than some regiments, though worse than others. That’s how I see it. They call the regiment ‘Fresh fish’ and all that. But the boys come from good stock, and most of them will fight like hell once they start shooting,” he added, putting heavy emphasis on the last four words.

“Oh, you think you know—” began the loud soldier with scorn.

“Oh, you think you know...” the loud soldier began scornfully.

The other turned savagely upon him. They had a rapid altercation, in which they fastened upon each other various strange epithets.

The other man turned on him savagely. They argued briefly, calling each other various strange names.

The youth at last interrupted them. “Did you ever think you might run yourself, Jim?” he asked. On concluding the sentence he laughed as if he had meant to aim a joke. The loud soldier also giggled.

The young man finally interrupted them. “Did you ever think you might run yourself, Jim?” he asked. After asking, he laughed as if he had meant it as a joke. The loud soldier also giggled.

The tall private waved his hand. “Well,” said he profoundly, “I’ve thought it might get too hot for Jim Conklin in some of them scrimmages, and if a whole lot of boys started and run, why, I s’pose I’d start and run. And if I once started to run, I’d run like the devil, and no mistake. But if everybody was a-standing and a-fighting, why, I’d stand and fight. Be jiminey, I would. I’ll bet on it.”

The tall private waved his hand. “Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I’ve thought that things might get too hot for Jim Conklin in some of those fights. If a whole lot of the boys started running, I suppose I’d start running too. And if I started running, I’d run like the devil, no mistake. But if everyone stood and fought, I’d stand and fight. You bet I would. I’ll bet on it.”

“Huh!” said the loud one.

The youth of this tale felt gratitude for these words of his comrade. He had feared that all of the untried men possessed great and correct confidence. He now was in a measure reassured.

The young man was grateful for his comrade’s words. He had feared that all the untested men were very confident and had good reason to be. Now he felt somewhat reassured.