LIBRARY OF CONGRESS DQDQll'^SDbE (lass E(^c 7 llook '//^t ) VUV.SV.XXVA ) m Corporal ^i \[\e(^(^ AND HIS -PARD/' How THEY Lived and Talked, and what they Did AND Suffered, while Fighting FOR the Flag. BY WILBUR F, ]piNMAN, Late Lieutenant-Colonel Sixt3'-fifth Regiment Ohio Veteran Volunteer Infantry. With 193 Original Illustrations drawn by George Y. Coffin. " The neighing troop, the flashing blade, The bugle's stirring blast. The charge, the dreadful cannonade. The din and shout are past." — Theodore O'Hara. Uleyenth Edition. CLEVELAND, OHIO. The N. G. Hamilton Publishing CO. 1898. Copyright, 1 887, BY WILBUR F. HINMAN ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ^Af-t- WITH TENDER RECOLLECTIONS OF MY " PARD," Who fell at Chickamauga, September 20, 1863, T inscribe this Volume TO His Memory. we slept under the same blanket and "drank from the same CANTEKN." THE AUTHOR TO HIS READERS. MANY books have been written — and many more will be — upon subjects connected with the war for ih& Union. There is no end of histories — of campaigns and battles and regiments— and lives of prominent generals; but these do not portray the every-day life of the soldier. To do this, and this only, has been the aim of the author in "Corporal Si Klegg and his ' Pard.' " This volume is not a history; nor is it a "story," in the usual acceptation of the word. "Si Klegg"and "Shorty," his "pard." are imaginarj' characters— though their pro- totypes were in every regiment — and Company Q, 200th Indiana, to which they belonged, is, of course, ficti- tious. Their iiaps and mishaps while undergoing the process of transformation that made them soldiers, and their diverse and constantly changing experiences on the march, the battle-field and the picket-line, in camp and bivouac, in hospital and prison, were those that entered dircctlv into the daily life or observation of all the sol- diers. Carefully avoiding everything in the nature of burlesque or extravagance, the \vriter has aimed to present a truth- ful picture of "soldiering." He feels justified in the belief that such of his comrades as m.ay read these pages will, at least, give him the credit of fidelity to the actual life of a million volunteers. This book has not been written from hearsay. It waf the writer's fortune to serve four years at the front, in 9 regiment which, with eleven hundred men on its rolls, fro©? VI PREFACE. first to last, was reduced b\^ the casualties of battle and the ravages of disease to one hundred and thirty, officers and men, present for duty at the time it \vas mustered out. It had traveled fifteen thousand miles — more than six thousand on foot. During the first year of his service the V\rriter carried a musket and knapsack. These facts are mentioned only to show that he had abundant experience, without which it would be folly to attempt such a book as this. The vivid memories of those four eventful years have supplied all the material. No other source has been drawn upon for information or suggestion. The author has made no attempt at literary embroidery, but has rather chosen the "free and easy" form of language that marked the in- tercourse of the soldiers, and therefore seemed most ap- propriate to the theme. He has tried to flavor the narra- tive with the spice of army life — for there was some "fun," though a great deal more of the reverse character — en- , deavoring to present the picture in all its varied hues. Thinking it possible that some may read this volume who have no experimental knowledge of life in the army, the author has devoted pages, here and there, to informa- tion of an explanatory nature, which he hopes will assist them in appreciating, perhaps as never before, how the soldiers lived — and died. The patriotism, the sacrifice and the suffering were not confined to the army. The home scenes herein presented were common to every city and village and hamlet, from Maine to California. It is believed that the illustrations will prove an attract- ive feature. They v^ere all drawn expressly for this work, and cover every phase of the subject. They -will bring to the eyes of the veterans many scenes that were familiar in days long past. The author wishes to express his obliga- tion to Mr. George Y. Coffin, whose ready pencil and fer- tile mind have so faithfully carried out his designs. He PREFACE. VM appreciates the more highly this assistance, because he coLild never, himself, "draw" anything except rations. With fraternal greetings to all his late comrades-in-arms the author sends out this volume, indulging the hope that they may find pleasure and interest in Hving over again the; stirring scenes of a quarter of a century ago, in the expe- riences of "Si Klegg" and "Shorty." Wilbur F. Hinman. Washington, D. C, September, 1887. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Page, Ik which Si Klegg, Carried Away by his Tumultuous Emotions, Enlists in Company Q of the Two Hundredth Indiana 1 CHAPTER II. The Commotion at the Farm-House Caused by Si's Appearance in Uniform— The Conflict Between Mars and Venus 13 CHAPTER HI. In which & IS Provided with a Bountiful Outfit, Makes Satis- factory Progress with Annabel, and Starts for the War.. 28 CHAPTER IV. Contains Some Observations on a Soldier's Equipments, and Sees the 200th Indiana Off for the Front..... 41 CHAPTER V. In which the Bright Colors that Fancy Painted Begin to Fade — The Soldier and his " Pard "—How Si was Led from the Straight and Narrow Way of Soldierly R^ectitude 62 CHAPTER VI. Si is Armed and Equipped for Active Hostilities— The Bayonet as a Factor in War 82 CHAPTER VII. The 200th Indiana Draws Mules and Dress-Coats, and Closes the Day with a Dress-Parade... 94 CHAPTER VIII. In ^^rHICH Si is Disciplined by a "Knapsack Drill" and Gets Even with the Orderly, but Suffers in Consequence , 107 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX, In which Si Takes his First Lesson in the Manual of Arms and Company Drill 120 CHAPTER X. The 200th Indiana Gets Marching Orders and Si Packs his Knapsack 134 CHAPTER XI. In which Si's Big Knapsack Proves too Much for him and he Applies Heroic Treatment 141 CHAPTER XII. Si Finishes the Day's March, Nurses his Blisters, and is De- tailed to Help Put Up the Colonel's Tent 164 CHAPTER XIII. Which Illustrates the Depravity of the Veteran Soldiers 174 CHAPTER XIV. In which. Overcome by his Aches and Blisters, Si Falls Out and Finds How Hard it is to " Ketch Up " 187 CHAPTER XV. How Si Wrestled with the Hardtack— Some Remarks on the Soldier's Bill of Fare 196 CHAPTER XVI. Si Gets a Letter from Annabel and Answers it Under Diffi- culties 213 CHAPTER XVII. In which Si's Cherished Desire to Drive a Mule Team is Fully Satisfied 224 CHAPTER XVIII. Si Smells Powder, Behaves Handsomely, and is Made a Cor- poral • 234 CONTENTS. XJ CHAPTER XIX. "Should Old Acquaintance be Forgot, and Never Brought to Mind?" — The Little Bug with the Big Name 243 CHAPTER XX. 6l HAS Some Practical Lessons in the Duties of a Corporal 262 CHAPTER XXI. ii HAS A Varied Experience in Camp and Goes upon an Exasper- ating "Wild Goose Chase" 272 CHAPTER XXII. Corporal Klegg Gets a Little Practice in Confiscating, has A Vigorous Colic, and Joins teie Procession at Sick-Call 286 CHAPTER XXIII. The Army has a Spasm of Morality and Rests on Sunday — It Proves a Cold Da V for 8hokty 301 CHAPTER XXIV. iK WHICH Si's Temper and Muscles ake Sorely Tried, and he Narrow^ly Escapes Getting into Trouble 316 CHAPTER XXV. Si Goes Marching on Amidst Rain and Snow, and has his Pa- triotism Severely Taxed 330 CHAPTER XXVI. Si has his First Interview with the Paymaster, and is Beguiled INTO THE Uncertain Game of "Chuck-a-Luck".. 347 CHAPTER XXVII. Ik which Si Goes Foraging, is Caught in a Spider's Web and has a Close Call 364 CHAPTER XXVIII. Santa Claus Fails to Connect with Corporal Klegg, whose ONLY Christmas Present is an Order to March 377 xii CONTENTS. CHAPTER XXIX. P>GB The 200th Indiana Marches to Battle, and Si Klegg Experi- ences the Thrilling Emotions THAT Precede THE Conflict... 387 CHAPTER XXX. Si and Shorty are Tried in the Fire and Prove to ue Pure Gold 404 CHAPTER XXXI. Scenes After the Battle — Calling the Roll and Burying the Dead 415 CHAPTER XXXII. The 200th Indiana has a Protracted Turn of Fatigue Duty — Si Wrestles with Pick and Shovel and Tries to Out- flank THE Doctors 428 CHAPTER XXXIII. In which Si Serves as a Railway Train Guard and has a Call from Guerrillas 440 CHAPTER XXXIV. The Rebels Cut the " Cracker-Line," and Si is Put on Quarter Rations 451 CHAPTER XXXY. •"Corporal Klegg Bears the Flag of the 200th to Victory and IS Wounded 469 CHAPTER XXXVI. Si Spends a Night in the Field Hospital and Sees Some of the Horrors of War 486 CHAPTER XXXVII. Si Gets a Furlough, and is Surprised Beyond Measure to Find Himself Famous 506 CHAPTER XXXVIII. Bad News Reaches the Klegg Family, but it Proves to be Un- true 511 CONTENTS. X111 CHAPTER XXXIX. ?ORPORA^ Xlegg Reaches Home and there i& Happiness all /iROUND 52& CHAPTER XL. Si Gets a Big Letter from the Governor, Answers it, ai:_ Re- joins HIS Regiment 54r CHAPTER XLI. Si and Shorty Re- enlist and Go Home on Veteran Furlough... 55^ CHAPTER XLII. In which the Boys are Domiciled in "Pup" Tents— Some Curi- ous Features of Army Life 574 CHAPTER XLHI. Si Enters Upon the Last Great Campaign which Ends the War 59? CHAPTER XLIV. AN Unexpected Calamity Befalls Corporal Klegg and his Comrade 60* CHAPTER XLV. In which Si and Shorty Experience many Vicissitudes, but their Pluck Brings them Through ,. 62? CHAPTER XLVL Si aND Shorty Take Sweet Revenge Upon the Enemy — Cor- poral Klegg AIeets with a Sore Bereavement 64*. CHAPTER XLVn. The End Comes at Last, and Si Puts Off the Army Blue 66'. CHAPTER XLVHL Si Finds it Much Easier to Get Married than to (jET a Pension 676 LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE 1 — The Recruiting Officer 2 '^— Si Klegg 5 »-; — Stimulating Village Patriotism 9 4 — An Average Army " Fit." 12 5— Si and his Mother 16 6 — Calamitous Effect of the News upon " Sister Marier." 20 7— At the Neighbor's 27 8— A Model Outfit 30 3— A Delusion of the War 33 I 0— A Satisfactory' State of Affairs 37 LI— Off to the War 40 '.2— The Army Overcoat 46 13— Si Finds his Match 48 14— Shorty 49 15 — Useful Career of the Canteen 56 16 — Si's First Encounter v^itli the Veterans 64 :'7— A Baptism 68 13- Hospitality 71 19— Stealing a Bed 80 20 — In Panoply of War 88 21— What Si Expected to do with his Bayonet 89 'J2— The Actual Uses he Found for It...... 92 23— The "Sweat-box." 96 24— A Literal Interpretation lOO' 25 — The Drum-major 102 "6 — Si's First Penance 109 27 — Veterans on a Frolic ll.'<} 28 — Si Forgets Himself 117 29— A Rude Awakening 118 30—" Load in Nine Times— Load ! " 123 31—" Ouch!" 124 32— "Right Shoulder Shift— Arms! " 125 33~" Fix— Bayonet ! " 126 3^-" Left— Face ! " 127 35— " Right— Face ! " 128 36—" Company— Right Wheel! " , 131 XVI ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE 37— The Long Roll ^35 38— The Tug of War 14i 39— Ready for the March 151 40 — A Serious Miscalculation 157 •41 — The Shrinkage Begins 162 42— The Rush for Water 166 43— After a Day's Tramp 168 44 — Fleecing the Lambs 176 45 — A Prima Facie Case 184 46— "Don't Stab Me." 191 47 — Hydropathic Treatment 191 48 — Si Defies a Regiment of Veterans 194 49— A Test of Jaw-Power 19? 50— The Last Resort 198 51— The Effect of " Getting Used to It.". 199 52— The Flesh of Swine 204 53— A Simple Process 205 54—" All Right, Boss, Dat's a Go." 206 55—" Mail When You Get to Camp, Boys! " 216 56 — Epistolary Work in the Trenches 217 57— Si's First Letter 219 58— Another Case of Discipline 221 59— "Sit Still, Please." 223 60— An Army Team 226 61— A Close Shave ■. 229 62—" A Man Overboard." 230 63— Total Depravity 232 64— In the Slough 233 65— Nearly a Panic 237 66— Si's First Shot 238 67— A Good Beginning 240 68— Corporal Si Klegg '. 242 •69 — A Lesson in Natural History' 246 70 — Practical Instruction 251 71— "Skirmishing." 252 72— The Pcdiculus , 253 73 — One of Life's Pleasures 255 74 — A Few Old Acquaintances 258 75— Corporal Klegg Gets Caught 266 76_"Not 'Less Ye Say 'Biniker Hill!'" 268 77 — Si and the Contraband 270 78— A Dead Shot 271 79 — "Policing" Camp 273 80—" A Little More Cider, too." 277 81— The Army Laundry 279 ILLUSTRATIONS. XVU PAGBr 82— A Scamper in Dishabille 281 83— The Btisy Bee 291 84— The 200th Indiana Takes to the Water 293 85— A Prematin-e Harvest 294. 86— A "Bully Boy's" Burden 295 87— Laying in Supplies 297 88— A Red-Letter Day 298 89— A Clear Case of Colic 299 90— "Sick-Call." 300 91— Si Interviews the Doctor 300 92 -The Captain at Early Roll-Cah 305 93— "Sir, the Guard is Formed." 306 94— Shorty's Cold Day 309 95 — Calling to Repentance 311 96 — The Way of the Transgressor 314 97— " Sir, I am a Corporil ! " 323 98— "Now, All Together! " 325 99 — "Looting" the Colonel's Mess-chest 327 100— A Nocturnal Picnic 329 101— ^' Go to Bed." 332 102— A Cyclone in Camp 333 103-Going for the " Top-Rail.".. 335 104 — Supper under Difficulties 336 105— "No Slouch of a Shanty." 338 106— Lubricating Oil Needed 338 107— A Polar Experience 342 108— "Paying Off." 350 109— His Autograph 353 110 — " 'Leven Dollars 'n' Fort^^-three Cents ! " 355 111— Chuck-a-luck , 358 112— The Sutler's Harvest 360 113— A Southern "Mossback." 366 114 — Confiscation 369 115— Robbing the Calf...; 371 116— The Tables Turned 374 117— The Value of Good Legs 375 118— Christmas Morning 380 119— The Fate of Si's Box 388 120— A Cheerful Legend 384 121— Ready for Business 388 122— They Stop for Nothing 388 123— Behind the Rails -. 391 124— A Hasty Evacuation 393 1.25— "There!" 400 i26— Into the Battle 102 XYlll ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE 127— " Steady, Men! " , 403 128— "Pkick." 407 129— The Charge of the 200th Indiana 413 130 — A Comrade in Distress 414 131— "For God's Sake,- Help!" 420 132— "We Carved Not a Line, We Raised Not a Stone." 426 133— The Call to Breakfast 430 134— Talking it Over 433 135— Camp Ablutions 436 136— An Unexpected Guest 439 137 — "Riding on a Rail" in the Army 444 138- Loading Up 447 139— A Brush with Guerrillas 450 140— Cheers for the General 454 141— Condolence 457 142— Reinforcements 462 143— The Rush for Rations 463 144— "Hello, Johnny! "—"Hello, Yank!" 466 145— A Misdeal 473 146— Breakfast Before the Fight 477 147— Hugging the Ground 480 14&— Yielding to the Inevitable 482 149— The Charge up the Ridge 484 150— In the Surgeon's Care 488 151— The Field Hospital 490 152— Under the Knife 492 153— The Two " Pards " 495 154— Death of Poor Tom 502 155— The Ambulance Train 506 156— The War Correspondent 509 157— Si Finds Himself Famous 513 158— News for Farmer Klegg 516 159— " My Boy is Not Dead ! " 525 160 — Farmer Klegg's Drive 527 161— "Hello, Si!" 529 162— Home! 533 163— Si's Barnj^ard Welcome 535 164— Si at the Corner Grocery 548 165— A Letter from the Governor 550 166— A Momentous Question 555 167— Si Starts the Veteran Roll 563 168— On the Way to "God's Country." 571 169— The Shrinkage of the Tent 577 170— The " Pup " Tent 580 171— Si as a Veteran 584 ILLUSTRATIONS. xix PAGE 172— Not to be Caught Napping 594< 173— On the Skirmish Line 599 174 — Laying a Pontoon Bridge Under Fire 602 175— " Attention ! " 604 176— Fort Klegg , 606' 177— Compelled to Surrender 609 178— A Fruitless Dash 615 179— A One-sided Bargain 621 180— "Treed." 632 181— Another Break 636 182— In the Prison-pen 642 183— In the Swamp 644 184— Return of the Vagabonds 646 185 — Destro3'ing a Railroad 649 186— Under a Truce 653 187 — " He was my pard." 663 188— Around the Camp-fire 667 189— Leading the Jamboree 673 190— After a Visit to the Tailor 674 191— The New Crop of Infantrj' 678 192— The Corps Badges 698-700 lS3~The Bugle CaUs , 700-704 <5orporal Si \[\e(^(^. CHAPTER I. In Which Si Klegg, Carried Away by His Tumultuous Emotions. Enlists in Company Q, of the Two Hundredth Indiana. LATE in the summer of 1862, a smart-looking young man made his appearance in a httle village in the hoop-pole region of Indiana. On his shoulders were the straps of a second lieutenant. His brand-new uniform, faultless in cut and make, fitted him "like the paper on the wall." His step was brisk, and he cultivated a military air with untiring assiduity. His padded coat bulged out over his patriotic bosom like the niainsail of a ship scudding before a spanking breeze ; and this was made the more conspicuous by his extreme eredtness of carriage as he strutted among the quiet village folk. He was proud of his new clothes, with their shining brass buttons, and ])roud of himself. His face \vore a fierce and sanguinary look, as if he chafed under the restraint which kept him beneath peaceful northern skies. His eyes seemed longing to gaze upon the lurid flames of war. Everybody im- agined that he was consuming with a desire to rush to the front, that he might plunge into scenes of carnage. Ke was a recruiting officer. As he w\\\ soon disappear from the narrative, it may be remarked here that he did not want to wade in blood half as badly as people thought he did, nor, quite possibly, as he thought himself. He had no occasion to invest in rubber boots to wear on the battlefield. He did not get THE VILLAGE WONDER. SO much as a sniff of powder in a state of violent com- bustion. Before the regiment was organized his health suddenly gave way and he resigned. But at this time he appeared the very embodiment of martial ardor — an ideal soldier. The simple-hearted gray- beards of the village put on their spe6lacles to look at him; the lasses blushed at their own admiring glances as he passed in his ma- jestic splendor; the young men, in jeans and home- spun, gazed with envy upon his symmetry of shape and gor- geous apparel, and wished the}' migh t be like him ; the small boys looked upon him with unutterable awe, and trailed after him through ,,^y,(W^jj' the streets as though he were the drum -major of a Lrass band. Such was the advent of the re- cruiting officer into this quiet hamlet. A few of its readj sons had gone to the war in '61, moved by the mighty feeling that so profoundly stirred the north after the fall of Sumter; but this was the first effort there to raise a company, under the great call for volunteers in 1862, which seemed to say to every one, "Thou art the man !" The officer procured a room over the village postoffice. THE RECRUITING OFFICER. PREPARING TO GATHER THEM IN. 3 and hiing out of the window a big flag that brushed the heads of the passers-by. Buildings and fences far and near were decorated . with flaming posters, which set forth in starthng t3^pe the unequaled advantages guaranteed to those who should enlist in Company O of the 200th Indiana regiment. After reading the placard the con- nding 3'outh would imagine that the patriots of that company would always have carriages to ride in and leather beds to sleep, on ; they would be clad in purple and tine linen and fare sumptuously every da}^, with cream in their cofiee and "soft bread " all the year round. None of them would get hurt, as many of the less fortunate soldieis did; they would while away the time in guarding prisoners or on provost or headquarters duty. In short, Company Q would have for three ^^ears little else than a protracted picnic. This was the alluring idea conveyed by the posters and the advertisement conspicuously displayed in the village paper. The worthy editor, who believed that the pen was mightier than the sword, wrote a notice highly commen 1- ing the fexnart young oflicer, and calling attention to the rare privileges that would be enjoyed bj^ all who joined his company. Of course, he knew all about it because the smart young officer told him. The oracular words of the editor were not without effect in stimulating the spirit of enlistment in the village and the region round about. The grand impulse of '61 had spent its force in this community as elsewhere, and a little urging was often found to be nec- essary. The recruiting officer who could hold out the most sedudtive inducements w^as likely to reap the most abundant harvest. At least such was the theory that governed recruitment after the first spontaneous rush to arms. Having thus adroitl}^ scattered the seed, the oflScer hired a fifer and drummer to stand on the sidewalk at the foot of the stairs and play "Yankee Doodle" and other inspir- i SI KLEGG, THE FARMER S BOY. ing tunes, and then sat down in his office to gather in the crop. As soon as a recruit was enlisted he was arrayed in baggy blue clothes and sent forth as a- missionary to bring in others. Under all these favorable conditions the roll of Company Q lengthened rapidly. One day while this was going on Si Klegg drove into the village with a lot of butter, eggs and other farm truck, which his mother had commissioned him to exchange for jjundry groceries needed to replenish the larder of the Klegg household. He was a red-cheeked, chubby-faced boy who had some distance yet to go before getting out of his teens. He had worked hard ever since he was large enough to make himself useful. The demand for his services upon the farm, increasing as he grew^ older, had confined within narrow limits his opportvinities for education. These had not gone beyond a few Avinters at the "distri6l school." He had seen nothing of the great w^orld that lay be^^ond the bounds of his immediate neighborhood. Si had a frenzied attack of war fever in '61, when the drums beat in response to the President's first call. His parents were not willing that he shoidd go on account of his 3'outh. He was a good lad — his father's pride and his mother's joy. He pleaded that the war w^ould only last a few^ weeks and that his whole future life would be embit- tered by the thought that he had no hand in it. But the parental heart was for the time inexorable, and Si obediently yielded, secretly indulging the hope, however, that the rebels would not be whipped until he should be old enough to go. As the weeks sped away none w^ere more eager than he to hear the news. When he read of a little skirmish that had resulted favorably to the Unior troops he swung his hat and shouted wnth the rest ; but there was a sinking of his heart, because he thought the war w^as about over and lie w^as going to "get left." Then v^'hen he heard of A MALIGNANT CASE OF WAR FEVER. another brush— people called them all battles then — in •which half a dozen Union pickets had been captttred, he lamented the success of the foes o^ his country, but his spirits rose as he thought that possibly, after all he might yet be a soldier and with the soldiers stand ; a knapsack on his back and a musket in his hand. Then when the President called for three hundred thou- sand men for three j^ears, Si's heart gave a, great leap. Three j-ears in the army would just suit him; and surely his parents would not refuse now that the de- mand was so ur- gent. Here-open- ed the debate with great enthu- siasm ; but father and mother were stili inflexible, and again he sub- mitted. He did this the more will- irgly because of his growing belief that the affair would not blow over in a few days and he would pa- tiently bide his time to get in. si klegg. Si's patriotic emotions, animated b\^ th'^ fie/y ardor of youth, bubbled with constantly increasing fury in his swelling breast, and at the time the brass buttons of the b A TERRIBLE TEMPTATION. recruiting officer twinkled in the village he was almost at thf point of bursting. In his fervid zeal he " Scorned the lowing cattle ; He burned to wear a uniform, Hear drums and see a battle." Such w^as Si's mental condition W'hen he drove into town that day. It became still more inflamed when he read one of the recruiting officer's big posters; and his passionate eagerness almost overcame him v/hen two or three of his friends sauntered up in full uniform. He felt that he could not endure the pressure much longer. "Hello, Si," said one of the militar}^ fledgelings, "what d'ye stan' there gawpin' at that han'bill ler? Why don't ye come down to the 'cruitin' office an' 'list, 'long with the rest o' the boys?" Si had never in his life wanted half so badly to do any- thing as he did to walk straight to where the flag was flying and the fife and drum playing, sign his name to the roll of Company Q, and get inside of a blouse and sky-blue trousers. He had more than half a mind to carry ouc his ardent impulse at once and take the chances on his action being ratified by the home authorities. "I want ter jine yer comp'ny mighty bad but — " Si had not the heart to finish the sentence. His thoughts might have been easily read in his eyes as he gazed long- ingly at the bright brass buttons on the clothes of his friends and the nodding plumes that decorated their enormous hats. '"Fore I'd be tied to my mammy's apurn string!" was the derisive reply. "Why don't ye be a man! All the boys is goin', an' 3^6 don't want ter stay behind fer the gals to p'int their fingers at and say ye w^as 'fraid ter go. Come 'long, an' never mind yer dad an' the old woman!" EARLY EVIDENCE OF "GRIT." 7 ■'Look a-liere, Bill," and Si began to show symptoms of a furious eruption, "you 'n' me has alius bin good friends; but if you say 'nother word agin me er my father 'n' mother ye won't have ter wait t'll ye git down among the seceshers — if ye ever do git thar — to have the biggest kind of afight. One er t'other on us '11 git the all-firedest lickin' ye ever heern tell of P'r'aps ye'U find out that ef I ain't a very big pertater I'm kind o' hard to peel. I ain't no cow^ard. I'm goin' ter try 'n' git inter this comp'ny. I don't b'lieve in braggin', but ef I do go with ye, ye'll never git court-martialed fer hangin' back er runnin' the wrong way ef ye jest keep right up 'longside o' Si Klegg!" It may be fairly said that the circumstances justified the w^armth and earnestness of Si's manner. Involuntarily his fat fists clenched, and he assumed an attitude of hos- tility that alarmed his comrade. The latter prudently retired out of range. "Ye don't need ter git spunky 'bout it. Si," he said from a safe distance. "Ye know I didn't mean nothin'. Ye'd make a bully soljer, an' the boys 'd like fust rate to have ye 'long. Comp'ny Q 's goin' ter have a soft thing, 'cause the ofiicer says he's got it all fixed. She's a-fillin' up purty fast, an' we're goin' ter leave in a few days, so ye'll have ter hustle 'round !" "I don't know ner care nothin' 'bout the easy time ye say ye're goin ' ter have. Ef I knowed Comp'n}^ wouldn't never do nothin' but sta^^ back in the rear I'd jine some other rijiment. Ef I'm goin' ter be a soljer I want ter he one 'n' do suthin' more'n strut 'round in a uniform. But I reckon as how Comp'ny Q '11 have ter take its chances 'long with the rest." Si wanted to go down to the headquarters but he scarcely dared trust himself to do so. He feared that the temptation to "jine" would be stronger than his power of resistance. Just at that critical moment the fife and 8 SI IS SWEPT OFF HIS FEET, drum struck up a lively air and that settled it. His friends were already on the way to the recruiting office. "Hold up," shouted Si, "I'm goin' that way," and he started after them at a brisk pace. "I thought ye'd come to it," said one of them, as they stopped for him to join them. "I sha'n't 'list to-day," rephed Si, "I jest thought I'd look in thar 'n' see what's goin' on." The truth is that, notwithstanding this positive declara- tion, he "felt it in his bones " that he would go home that afternoon wearing blue clothes. He was badly broken up when he thought of the consternation that he was sure his appearance at the old farm in the garb of a soldier \vould prodtice. He did not want to enlist without parental consent, as he had promised, and he kept trying to make himself believe that he was not going to. His conscience told him that he ought to turn around and go to his wagon and drive straight home, but the magnet that was drawing him along in spite of himself was irresistible He couldn't help it ; he had to go. His feet caught the step of the drum- taps and he marched to what he felt would be his fate, borne along by a tide of emotions as resistless as the flood of a raging river. The discordant sound of the squeak}^ fife and rattling drum was the sweetest music that had ever greeted the ears of Si Klegg. He mingled in the crowd of old and young that stood around the musicians talking about the war — the one subject that was first upon every tongue. They all knew Si, and again and again he was asked if he \vas going to enlist. He could not say no and lie dared not say yes, although he felt away down in his heart that there ^vere nineteen chances out of twenty that within the next thirty minutes there would be another *'K" added to the roll of Company Q, and he would be trying on his regimentals. AND CARRIED OVER THE DAM. 9 The only tiling tliat prevented Si from rushing at once into the presence of the recruiting officer was the ever haunting- thousfht of father and mother. He tried to aro^ue himself into the belief that his dutv to his country was first, and that in responding to her call in the time of her extremity he was doing no violence to the fifth commandment. Aided by the persuasive influences that surrounded him, he so far succeeded in quieting his STIMULATING VILLAGE PATRIOTISM. conscience that when one of his companions, who was in a similar state of mind, said to him, "I'll 'list if you will," Si replied, "Come on," and started at once up the stairs. The flood had carried him completely over the dam. A moment later Si stood, with his hat under his arm, in the presence of the recruiting officer. Dazzled by the splendor of his appearance. Si shrank bac : abashed for a moment. The officer \vas busily engaged in superintend- 10 HE SIGNS THE ROLL OF COMPANY Q. ing the efforts of two or three recruits to fit themselves out of an assortment of army clothing that lay scattered about the room. Si had a chance to recover and brace himself for the trying ordeal. "Ah, my man," said the lieutenant, extending his hand to Si, "you've come to join my company, haven't you? You do not need to answer, for I know it by your looks. You'll make a splendid soldier, too— just the sort of brave fellows we want. Walk right up to the table and sign your name. We're going to have the finest companjr that ever left the state." "Sa}^, mister, I jest wants ter ax ye ef a feller kin git out agin ef he has ter arter he's jined." At the last moment a sense of his filial obligations prompted Si to provide, if possible, for keeping open a line of retreat. Fearful lest his motive might be misconstrued, however, he hastily added : "'Tain't 'cause I wants ter back out, fer I don't; but ye see I'm 'feard pap '11 kick. He made me promise I wouldn't 'list 'less he was willin', 'n' I know he aint." "Oh, that '11 be all right, " said the officer. "We'll fetch the old man around easy enough. You put your name right down and get your uniform on. When he sees how" fine you look he'll pat you on the head and tell you to go right along like a man and fight for your bleeding country." "Gimme the pen 'n' I'll chance it." Si sat down to the table and with much effort succeeded in producing his autograph on the roll of Company Q. His heart thumped violently as he looked at his name and began to realize that he was going to be a soldier. It is true that the chickens he w^as counting were not yet fully hatched, for he could not rid himself of the vague fear that there would be trouMe at the farm-house. But he persuaded himself that ii would end as he so fervently desired ; and "prior soundness." H when he arose he felt that he was taller by a foot than when he entered the room. "Now, Mr. Klegg," said the lieutenant, "just step into that room and let the doctor examine you." "What's that fer?" asked Si. " To see if you are sound and able to discharge the duties of a soldier." "The doctor '11 onl}' be wastin' his time 'zaminin' me," replied Si. "I'm sound 's a hicker'-nut." "No doubt of it; but the army regulations require it, and we have to ohej them, you know." Si had a foggy idea that obedience was one of the car- dinal virtues of a good soldier, and ^vithout further objec- tion he passed into the apartment, w^here the village dodtor, duly invested with the proper authority, was inspecfling the physical condition and "prior soundness" of those who were about to enter the military service. "Now, young man, strip yourself," said the do6lor, in a business-like wa^', when Si's turn came. It seemed to Si that there was a good deal of foolishness about such a performance. The dodtor evidently shared this opinion as he looked upon the robust form and well- turned limbs of the farmer-boy. A single glance told his- experienced e^^e that Si would fill the bill. He passed his hands over the limbs of the recruit, looked at his feet, drummed on his chest and ribs, and then pressed his ear against his breast. " Your heart beats a little hard and rapidly," said the do6lor, "but I guess it's only because you're a bit excited. I think you'll do, my lad, and I'm greatly mistaken if you do not make a good, brave soldier. Just one thingmore, let me see your teeth." Si thought it w^as very much as if he w^as a colt and somebody wanted to buy him. But he was pleased with the doctor's verdict, and only said with a laugh : "I don't see what teeth 's got ter do 'th bein' a solier '" 12 SI PUTS ON A UNIFORM. "You will be wiser after a time, my young friend," said the do(5lor with a 'smile. "You will find good teeth very useful in biting cartridges and chewing hardtack." "What's hardtack?" said Si, his face not less than his words betokening his curiosity. "Oh, that's what the soldiers call the bread they get in the army. But you hadn't better ask any more questions; you'll know all about it in a little while." "Nice boy !" the dodlor said to the lieutenant. "A little too much flesh just now, but a few weeks of active cam- paigning will bring him down to good marching weight. I'd like to be colonel of a regiment of such fellows." "You can put these on if 3'ou like, Mr. Klegg," said the offi- cer, handing him a pair of pants and a blouse. "I guess they are about j^our size." No five-year-old boy was ever prouder when he laid aside his pinafore and donned his first pair of breeches than was Si w^hen he arrayed himself in the habiliments of a soldier. It mattered little that the trou- sers were several inches too long, and the blouse so small that it embraced him like a corset. As his eyes feasted upon the blue garments and the bur- nished brass buttons, his fears all gave way before the con- fident belief that his appearance would sweep aside all the objections of his father and mother and sister Maria and pretty Annabel, the neigh- bor's daughter. AN AVERAGE ARMY " FIT. CHAPTER II. The Commotion at the Farm-House, Caused by Si's Appearance in Uniform— The Conflict Between Mars and Venus. WHEN Si Klegg left the recruiting office and tripped gayly down the stairs with his farm clothes in a bundle under his arm, he was greeted with loud cheers by the crowd on the sidewalk. He was a favorite in the vil- lage, where he had been known from a child. The people thronged about him and took him by the hand, all uniting in the cordially expressed hope that he would "come out £ill right." No one had any fear that he would make other thpn an honorable record. Ey this time the day w^as well spent, and Si began to think about getting home. A cloud of seriousness crept over his face as he wondered what his "folks " would say and do. His first impulse was to go into somebody's bam rnd change his clothes, to relieve the surprise of its sud- denness. He thought it might be better to go home in his accustomed garments and then, by clever diplomacy, let the cat out of the bag little by little. The effect would be less startling than if she jumped out all at once. Then came the thought that this would be cowardly, and he at once re- solved to go right ahead and face the music like a man. He believed he was not afraid to meet rebels with guns in their hands, and surely he must not quail before his father and mother and sister Maria. " I'll lay the gad on the old mare, too ! " he said to him- self, half aloud. "I'm in fer it, 'n' the sooner the thing's 14 MEETING THE RUGGED ISSUE. over with the better. I ain't goin' ter go sneakin' 'n' beatin ' 'round the bush, nuther ! " Si was soon on his way. His activity in the use of the "gad" produced a degree of speed that the mare, who was in the sear and yellow leaf of her existence, only attained on extraordinary occasions. She laid back her ears and forged ahead, as if conscious that something of unusual importance was in the ^nd. It was only a couple of miles from the village totheKlegg farm, and the ride took but twenty minutes. As Si neared the house he drew rein that he might, if possible, calm his agitation. His heart beat fast at the thought of meeting his mother — and then of bidding her good-bye to march away to the w^ar. He had not realized before how hard this would be. Looking away he saw his father slowly coming from his toil in a distant field. The story of the Prodigal Son came up before him. While he could not admit the justice of comparing himself to the v\,'ayward wanderer, yet at that moment he would have given the world, had he possessed it, to be assured that his father would receive him as the father in the parable received the son who " was lost and is found." Si had not intended to beundutiful, or to do anything wrong. Turning his eyes and looking through the soft, shadowy twilight that was already falling, he saw his sister coming slowly up the lane with the cows. Again his heart throbbed wildly. He had not thought what it would be to leave her whose loving companionship had been a part of his daily existence. How her heart would ache \vhen he should be far away amidst scenes of hardship, suffering and death. Such a moment had never come to Si as that when he alighted from the wagon, took his parcels in his arms, and walked toward the house. With a mighty effort to con- trol his feelings he opened the door and entered. He passed A mother's struggle, 15 directly to the kitchen, where he knew he would find his mother engaged in the preparation of the evening meal. "Mother, "he said — and he knew that his voice was trem- ulous, hard as he tried to keep it steady — "I've brought you the things you wanted from the store." She was busy at her work, with her face from him. For a moment she did not look at him, only remarking, with a shade of anxiety in her gentle tones : "You've been gone a long time, Josiah. I've looked for you these two hours. What's goin' on in the village ? Any news from the war?" "Mother!" None but a mother can know \vhat was in that word as it fell from the lips of Si. Her maternal instinct told her, quick as the lightning's flash, that she must make the sacrifice that thousands of mothers had made before her. The knife dropped from her trembling hand. For an instant she stood, with face still averted, as if to gather strength for the trial which she had long felt she must face sooner or later. Day and night she had prayed that the cup mJght pass from her. It had come, and in that moment she resolved, with the spirit of the mothers of Sparta, to meet it Vvdth a patriot's devotion. Then she turned and cast a look of unutterable tender • ness upon her boy, already a soldier. He sj)rang toward her and she folded him in her arms. Tears trickled from the eyes of both. Their hearts were too full for words. As her soft kisses fell like a benediction on brow and cheek, Si felt that his mother was tenfold dearer than ever before. "My son," she said, "I feel that it is right. You cannot know how hard it is for me to say that. But it is duty that calls, and I'm proud of ye for bein' so brave and manly. I knew ye'd be goin' one o' these days, an' I'd 16 THE BATTLE HALF WON. kinder got my mind made up to it; but it aint an easy thing for a mother to send her only boy off to war." "But — father — " said Si, inquiringly. "Father won't be hard on ye, Si," she replied. "We've talked it over many an hour v^hen ye've been asleep, an' he feels a good deal — ^'-^ like I do. I guess y/y^j he'd a leetle rather L^i- I ,.<|i %'/ll ^ 3'ou'd spoke to him 'bout it 'fore ye' list- ed, but if I don't mistake he'll give ye his blessin' an' tell ye to go an' do yer duty like a hero, just as I know ye will." The outer door ^^^ opened and a famil- iar step was heard in the adjoining room. "Stay here a mo- ment. Si," said his mother, as she has- tily withdrew her arms from him and brushed away her tears. " Let me say a word to father first." Si still dreaded to meet his fathei, although this feeling had yielded in some measure before the loving words of his mother. His heart filled with gratitude to her for the deli- cate tadt which prompted her to shield him from a possible harsh word. SI AND HIS MOTHER. THE VICTORY COMPLETE. 17 "Thank ye, mother!" he faltered. ''Father," she said, as she went in to meet her husband. She was trying to control herself, but her trembling lip and misty eyes betrayed the emotions she could not conceal. "Why, mother," he interrupted, "what's the matter? Anything gone Avrong to-day ? Hasn't Si got back from town?" "Yes, Si's here — but— he's got a new suit o' clothes on — and they're blue ! Now, father, I told him you wouldn't be hard on him, an' I know ye won't. He's my boy as much as yours, an' if I can bear it you can." For a moment he did not speak; a shade passed over his face, but it gradually melted away before the pleading gaze of the wife and mother. Then he said : "You know we've been expectin' it, mother, for a good while. Si haint said much 'bout it lately, but it was plain to see that he was just achin' to go all the time. If we had half a dozen other boys it wouldn't be any easier to let him go ; but we could get along better without him than we can bein' as he's the only one. If he'd waited till I'd ha' give m\' consent I reck'n he wouldn't ha' gone at all, for I don't b'lieve I could ha' made up my mind to say he might jine the army. But it locks 's though they'd need all the men they can git 'fore they bring them seceshers to their senses, an' I persumewe'd ought terbe willin'to let Si go an' help 'em. Lookin' at it on all sides I guess it was best for him to 'list in the wa}^ he did, 'cause as I was savin', I couldn't ha' screwed myself up to the point o' tellin'him he might." A glad smile, though it was not without a tinge of sad- ness, lighted up the countenance of Si's mother. With the sacrificing heroism that so grandly characterized the women of that time, she had fully accepted the truth that she must give up her boy. She knew that his heart, like her own, was full almost to bursting, and she rejoiced to 18 A father's blessing. know that he would not have to bear the added burden of a father's displeasure. "Josiah, come here! " Si had stood trembling where his mother left him, during the interview between his parents. He could not hear the words, but the tones of his father's voice were not those of an angry man, and he felt that if he had done wrong he would be forgiven. When his father called him his hand was already upon the latch. Quickly opening the door he advanced to meet the outstretched arms of his father. Tears that w^ere not unmanly dimmed the eyes and wetted the brown cheeks of the old farmer as he folded his boy to his breast. "I aint goin' to say a ^vord agin it. Si," he said, after a long embrace. "Other folks has to let their boys go, an' I musn't think I'm better 'n anybody else. But it makes me feel like a baby to think of ye goin' down 'mong the soljers an' likely 's not we shan't never " "Don't, father," said his wife, gently, "v^e musn't talk of that now. If I didn't believe God 'd let Si come back to us, I couldn't let him go ; that 'd be askin' too much." "Well, well, dear, I couldn't help thinkin' what a dan- gerous place it is down there, an' how many other people's boys wont never see home agin. There's jest one thing I want to say to ye. Si. Ye know somethin' 'bout how dear ye are to me — I don't need to tell ye that — but I'd a hun- derd times rather ye'd get killed when ye was standin' up to your duty like a brave soljer, an^ be buried with nothin' but a blanket 'round ye, than to hear anybody say that my boy was a coward. But I aint afeard that we'll ever be 'shamed of ye. Si. Mother, hadn't we better have supper?" "Why, bless me, if I didn't forgit all 'bout supper!" ex- claimed the good woman, as she started for the kitchen, "but Si comin' in so sudden with them soljer clothes on, THE YOUNG SOLDIER AND HIS SISTER. 19 jest upset me an' drlv all tliouglits o' cookin' clean out o' m}^ head." When she reached the culinary department she found things in a disastrous plight. The potatoes in the oven were baked to a crisp, the pork in the spider had fried to cinders, and the teakettle was boiling over with great fury, emittinsf a volume of steam that filled the room. Mrs. Klegg had to begin all over again. It was a matter of small concern to Si whether he had any supper at all or not. A great load had been lifted from his heart. At last his ambition was to be reaHzed. In a few days he would march away to the field of glory, and he would go with his mother's prayers and his father's blessing. It was the happiest moment he had ever known. His fervent imagination saw only the lights of an untried life. None of its deep shadows darkened the picture that his fancy painted. "Father," he said, "I'll go out 'n' tell Marier the news 'n' then I'll help ye do the chores." "Sister Marier," a rosy lass, two years older than Si, was coming from the barnyard wnth a pail of milk in either hand. As she bent beneath the load her eyes were upon the ground, and she did not observe the approach of Si through the gathering dusk until he said, in a cheerful tone: "Let me carry 'em fer ye, Marier." "That you. Si?" she said, as she raised her eyes. In an instant the pails dropped from her grasp and the milky flood inundated the ground at their feet. Raising her hands in surprise, she exclaimed : "For the land's sake. Si, what are ye doin' with them clothes on? Borrered 'em from one o' the boys, didn't ye, to see how ye'd look in 'em?" " These clothes is mine. I'm a soljer now !" "What, you?" Then as the truth burst upon her she added, in a tone that touched his heart, "Oh, Si!" 20 AFFECTION S SORE TRIAL. Circling her arms about his neck, her feelings found vent in a flood of tears. Si felt that he was having a rather sloppy time of it, and he was really glad that the family was no larger, and that he had now got around. Yet his experience during the half hour since he reached home had been to him in the nature of a revelation. There had been nothinsr in the every-day farm life of the family to test the strength of the cord that bound them together. Si supposed, as a inatter of course, that his father and !(| mother and sister loved him, as it was their duty to do. He had al- ways been con- scious of arecipro' city of feeling to- ward them. Now he knew, as nevei before,ho w strong are the ties of af- fection, and how heavily falls the blow that severs them. "There, don't cry any more, sister," he said, kissing her tenderly. "You know I couldn't help doin' it. But I made ye spill all the milk 'n' I'll go down 'n' pump some fer supper. S'pose I'll have to git 'long without milk in the army, 'n' I'd better fill up while I've got a chance." There were some of the cows whose lacteal foun- tains had not been drawn upon, so that the catas- trophe that had befallen Maria promised to result CALAMITOUS EFFECT OF THE NEWS UPON "sister MARIER." THE CUPBOARD UNLOCKED. 21 no more seriously than to make the next "churning" a trifle short. "Well, old Brindle, don't ye wish you was me?" ex- claimed Si, in the exuberance of his spirits. " H'ist, there, why don't ye! Now, so, Bossy, so!" and he was soon milking away with all his might, singing to himself: "We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more." "That's so," he soliloquized. " 'n' I'm one o' them bully three hunderd thousan'. Yes, Father Abraham, Si Klegg's comin'. Jest have the army wait t'll he gits thar 'n' then ye can drive ahead." When Si entered the house with brimming pail he found supper waiting. Mother and sister greeted him with fond looks and gentle words. They had placed upon the table every delicacy that the house afforded. Jars and cans, such as hitherto had only been brought forth on state occasions, were opened and their contents dished out \vith a prodigality that under any other circumstances would have been amazing. A thrifty housewife is moved by an impulse of no ordin- ary' magnitude when she scatters her precious jellies and preserves and pickles and things in such reckless profu' sion. If Si had stopped to think of this he would have needed no stronger evidence of the place he held in the estimation of at least the female members of the family. "Si always did like these little knick-knacks so," his mother said to Maria, "an' goodness 4cnows he won't have any of 'em down there. Whatsomever 's in this house is his 's long 's he's here. I'd jest enj'y seein' him eat up the last bit of 'em. If any comp'ny comes they can go without." Meanwhile, "Father "had come in from his "chores," and the four sat down to the evening meal. Thrice each day for many a year they — father, mother, sister, brother — had gathered around that table, but never before had 22 SI TELLS HOW IT HAPPENED. there been such an all-pervading spirit of gentleness and affection. The very air seemed fragrant ^vith the incense from those loving hearts. The little spark had kindled into a fierce flame the latent fires of love in the breasts of that household. The sudden rush of feeling had subsided, giving way to a calm determination to make the best of the situation. Gradually the members of the little group regained a measure of their wonted cheerfulness. Si's elastic spirits rebounded the instant the pressure upon them was relaxed. "You haven't told us yet how you came to 'list," said his mother, as she heaped again with preserves a dish that he had already emptied. This started Si's tongue, and he rattled off the story of the day's adventures. "I'll tell ye how 'twas," he said. "I druv straightwise to the store and done all the arrands ye Avanted me to. Then I thought I'd look 'round a bit 'fore I started hum. I heerd right awa}^ thar was a 'cruitin' ossifer 'n town. I tell ye he's a daisy, too ; must be a big gin'ral er suthin' like that. I seen lots o' the boys that had 'listed walkin' 'round with their uniforms on. Some on 'em told me I'd better jine if I didn't want ter be grafted, as they was goin' ter begin graftin' purty soon. There was a fife 'n' drum a-playin' at the 'cruitin' office, 'n' when I heerd 'em I Jest bad to go down. There was a crowd there, and every- body was a-cheerin' 'n' shoutin' 'n' the flag was a-flyin'. I kep' sayin' to myself I w^ouldn't jine till I'd been hum 'n' axed ye agin ; but while I was stan'in' thar Tommy Smith says to me, says he, 'Si, I'll dar' ye to 'list; ef you will I will.' I says, 'Tom, who's afeard?' — jest that w^ay. ' 'Tain't me,' saj^s I, ' 'n' if you ain't nuther w^alk up to the scratch.' He didn't back out, ner I didn't, 'n' in 'bout ten minutes we both b'longed to Comp'ny Q. She's goin' ter be the boss comp'ny, too. That's the way it happened, 'n' I AN ALARMING SUGGESTION'. 23 don't see how a bey like me could ha' done any different. Jest one spoonful more o' that currant jell', mother, please." "The fact is, Si," said the head of the family, "I s'pose I could get ye out by goin' to law, 'cause ye're a long ways under age an' I didn't give my consent fer ye to list." "But ye won't do that, will ye, father?" said Si quickly, with a look of alarm. "No, Si. Ye've done it an' I aint goin' to find no fault. r don't quite see how I'm goin' to git 'long without ye on (:he farm." "I'll send home to ye all the mone\^ I 'arn," said Si, " 'n' ye can hire a man to take my place." "Uncle Sam '11 make je work purty cheap, Si. Thirteen dollars a month aint very much, 'n' I reckon what ye'U have left arter usin' what ye need won't 'mount to a great deal. The men 'round here 's all goin' to the war. Farm hands is gittin' sktu'ce an' \vages is high an' goin' higher." "But ye never got such big prices afore fer 3-er ^vheat 'n' corn 'n' pork," observed Si, to whom it seemed that, in a financial point of vievk% the case was not without its com= pensating features. "Mother an' me can help ye, father," said Maria, who had sat quiet and thoughtful, taking little part in the conversation. "There isn't anj'bod}' feels wuss 'bout Si's goin' 'n I do, but all the same I'm proud of him! An' if we work a leetle harder an' fill his place vt^e'll all feel that we're doin' somethin' for the country. A vv^oman can't shoulder a gun an' march an' fight, but there's a good many ways she can help." So it \vas all settled that Si should go to the \var. He arose from the table happy in heart and in stomach. He bustled around for a time, bringing in a bountiful supply of water and wood and kindlings, and doing everything 24 AX EVENING PILGRIMAGE. he could think of for his mother and sister. Then he put on his hat and started for the door. "Where ye goin', Si?" asked his mother. "I'll be back after a bit, "he replied, evasively. The light of the tallow candle was too faint to reveal the blush that mantled his tingling cheeks. "Don't be too inquisitive, mother," said Maria, as SI made a hasty exit. Si bent his steps toward the home where Annabel lived, a quarter of a mile away. He walked very fast at first, so anxious was he to see the neighbor's pretty daughter and tell her all about it. He wondered if she would feel badly about his going away. He couldn't help hoping she would— just a little. Si and Annabel had been playmates from childhood. They had grown up together, and Si had come, little by little, to feel a sense of proprietorship in her — almost im- palpable, and yet to him an existing reality. No other boy in the neighborhood had so well-established a right as he to take Annabel sleigh-riding in winter and to the circus in summer. Up to the time of his enlistment not a word had ever passed between them that could make their relations any more definite than would naturally result from a childish fancy. Among their companions she was recognized as Si's "girl" and he as her legitimate *'beau." As Si paced along that night he was conscious that he had that day made a long stride toward manhood. He felt that he was a boy no longer, and with this came a feeling toward Annabel that he had never experienced before. He had heard of people being "in love," but up to this time had only a vague idea of what that meant. After thinking it over he made up his mind that he was in that condition, whatever it was. On no other hypoth- esis could he satisfy himself regarding the sensations that thrilled him more and more as he drew nearer, step PALPITATION OF THE HEART. 25 by step, to her father's door. In fact, by the time he reached the gate it was about an even race between his country and Annabel for the first place in his affections. Si did not at once rush into the house. The agitation of his heart was such as to utterly destroy his courage. lie walked some distance past and then turned around and walked as far the other \YSiy, striving to quiet the turmoil in his breast: but the more he tried the more he couldn't do it. The symptoms were those of a malignant case. For half an hour he oatrolled the beat in front of the house, as if it were the headquarters of a general and he the guard. At every turn, ashamed of his timidity, he resolved that he would march straight to the door, but as often, by the time he reached the gate, his courage had all oozed out at the ends of his fingers and toes. Then he ^vould keep on, gathering strength again as the distance increased, and at length face about and repeat the performance. Once the watch-dog came out and barked at him until he felt that he would like to kill the animal had he not known Annabel's fondness for him. The farmer opened the door and looked out to see what it was that had provoked such a breach of the peace. Si dropped into a fence corner and lay trembling until quiet was restored. He had more than half a mind to give it up and go home, but as soon as he could bring his perturbed thoughts to bear upon this proposition he spurned it as unworthy of him. What would he ever amount to as a soldier if he was afraid to face so harmless a thing as the neighbor's daughter ? This view of the case was like an elixir to him. His courage came back to stay. He opened the gate, walked boldly up to the door, and rapped with no un- certain sound. "Come in!" Si's heart beat like a trip-hammer as he raised the latch and entered. 2b IT BECOMES CONTAGIOUS, "Hello, Si, liow d'ye do?" was the farmer's greeting. "Good evenin' !" said Si in response, with some shyness of manner. His coy salutation was addressed in a general way to the family group, although, judging from his eyes, it was aimed more particularly at Annabel. She smiled and Si thought she blushed — probably she did. There was atinge of sadness on her face that for the moment he could not understand. She did not express the surprise he had supposed she would at seeing him in the uniform of a soldier. "I was in town this arternoon," said the farmer, "an I heerd ye'd jined the company they're raisin'." Annabel bent down her head and looked very hard at her sewing. So she had already heard of it, thought Si. He wondered if the relation of cause and effect existed between her knowledge and the sad, quiet manner so unusual to her. "Them clothes is becomin' to ye, Si," continued Anna- bel's father, in his bluff, hearty way, " an' ye'll make a fine lookin' soljer. We'll all be sorry to have ye go " Si cast a quick glance at Annabel to see if he could read in her face the extent to which she would share in the gen- eral grief. She did not look up, and he thought he saw something that glistened in her e3'e, but he may have been mistaken. " an' we hope there won't nothin' happen to ye down there. Ye must be spry an' dodge the bullets of them pesky rebels," Annabel got up and went to a cupboard in the corner of the room to look for something. She seemed to have a good deal of difficulty in finding it. Once Si saw her put her kerchief to her eyes. It was no doubt merely accidental and had no connection with the subject of conversation. After a while she went back to her seat, but she appeared Qot to have found what she was looking for. Si's stay was brief. He had in his mind some things he SPEAKING EYES. 27 thought he wanted to sav in Annabel's ear, but no oppor. tunity was offered, owing to the perverse blindness of th^ "old folks" — so often a source of exasperation to young hearts palpitating with the tender passion. It may be seriously doubted, however, w^hether Si could have mus- tered courage enough to say anything confidential to the rosy-cheeked girl if he had had a chance to do so. Be this AT THE neighbor's. as it may, he was not in his usual loquacious mood for general conversation. So the kind-hearted old farmer did most of the talking. Si only responding now and then in monosjllables. But what his busy eyes had seen, aided by an active imagiiiation, had given him a measurably satis- factory answei to the question his throbbing heart had silently asked. 28 SI LONGS FOR MARCHING ORDERS. When Si arose and bade the familv jzood nio^ht, Annabel stepped quickly to the door and followed him outside for a single moment. "Si," she said softl}^ "I know it's right fer ye to go, but — je don't know — how bad — it makes me feel!" Putting her arm around his neck she kissed his hot cheek. Before he could recover his senses she had fled into the house like a frightened faw^n. Si pinched himself two or three times to see \vhether it was, he or somebody else. Then he walked rapidly home, the happiest boy in all Indiana. CHAPTER III. In Which Si is Provided with a Bountiful Outfit, Makes Satis- factory Progress with Annabel, and Starts for the War. SI KLEGG was very impatient to get away to the front. It was only a week after his enlistment that Company left for the regimental rendezvous to become a part of the 200th Indiana, but a month had never seemed so long to him. Every day he went to town to see how the work of recruiting was getting on. He assisted, to the utmost of his ability and influence, in filling the ranks by persuasive efforts among his comrades. Si had now little taste for the plodding work of the farm. Possibly he felt that such plebeian toil was- not in keeping with the dignity that properly belonged to a soldier. Now and then the thought woulu come that he ought to lend a willing hand to help his father while he could; but he was so thoroughly imbued with the war SI TO HAVE A GOOD SEND-OFF. 29 spirit, and so restive at the delay, that he could give no serious consideration to anything else. There ^was little to do to put him in inarching order. He had no incum^ brances, and could just as well have marched away the morning after his name was added to the company roll. Indeed, nothing could have pleased him better. His feelings were saddened sometimes when he allowed himself to picture the parting from parents and sister, and thoughts of Annabel made his heart twinge with even greater violence. With the philosophy of a stoic, how- ever, he persuaded himself that the sundering of these ties was but a part of the sacrifice that every soldier must make, and to which he had already become rec- onciled. On the whole he would be glad rather than otherwise vrhen the farewells were over. He did not desire frequent repetition of the tearful scene that was caused by his return from the village on that eventful day. Among Si's relatives, irrespective of age or sex, great zeal was manifested in fitting him out for his first cam- paign. Tliey had heard much about the sufferings of the soldiers for lack of home comforts, and it was unani- mously voted that Si should want for nothing that could minister to his external or internal welfare. If he suffered J.t should not be their fault. His female friends were par- ticularly active in the good \vork. In preparing his outfit they displayed that marvelous discrimination that charac- terized the patriotic women of America in this respect during the early part of the war, before they had learned better. Feminine ingenuity exhausted itself in conjuring up all sorts of things, describable and indescribable, that could make life a burden to a recruit in active service. When they could not think of any thing more to make, they ransacked the stores for something to buy and load him down. Si's mother and sister devoted to this labor of love all so A BOUNTIFUL PROVISION. their time and energies not employed in ministering to hi? appetite. Not an hour passed but they thought of some- thing else that he would need for his health and comfort, and there was no rest till it was provided. By the tim<; the contributions of friends and neighbors had been sen( in there was a large wheelbarrow-load, without taking into account the stock he would receive from the gov- ernment. "There, Si," said his good mother, with evident satisfac tion, as she showed him the result of th<; labor of loving hearts and hands, "we've got this clothes-basket purty nigh full. 1 reckon them things '11 fix ye out tollable well. If ye're keerful an' don't lose an\^ of 'em ye can keep yerself kind o' comfortable like." "That'll be jest gorjus," replied Si. " Marchin' 'n' cam pin' A MODEL OUTFIT. Wv:)n't bc nothin' but fun 's long 's a feller 's got everythin' he wants. I 'low the boys wouldn't have sich hard times if they all had mothers 'n' sisters like I've got." "I've heerd, Si, that they only give the soljers one blanket apiece. I s'pose ye'll have to sleep on the ground a good deal o' the time, an' ye'll want plenty o' kivers ; so I've got ye an extry blanket an' this heavy quilt— ye must take good care o' that 'cause it's one o' my best ones, an', if yecan, I'd like ye to fetch it back in good shape when tbf war 's over. I guess they'll keep ye warm. I'd feel awful TAKING AN INVENTORY. 33 to be all the time 'fraid \'e was ketchin' cold. I'll give ye one o' my best pillers if ye want, to lay yer head on. I've made ye a pair o' nice undershirts. Ye'll want 'em after a while an' ye'd better take 'em 'long now, 'cause I don't s'pose I'll git a chance to send 'em to ye. Here's three pair o' good \voolen socks. I don't reckon them they has in the army is any great shakes. Yer Aunt Samanthy knit 'em fer ye. Marier's made ye a purty needle case full o' needles an' buttons an' thread an'apa'r o' scissors. Them things '11 come mighty handy. Ye won't have no mother to mend up yer clothes an' sew on yer buttons an' darn yer stockin's. Here's a harnsom' portfolio yer sister bought fer ye. It's got lots o' paper an' envelopes an' pens an' pencils an' ink an' postage stamps. I know ye ain't a great hand to be writin' letters, but ye mus'n't forgit that we'll want ter hear from ye reel often. Yei father bought ye a pa'r o' boots. They won't weigh more'n five or six pounds, an' ye can carry 'em 'long to wear when yer guv'ment shoes gives out. They say that the army shoes drops all to pieces in a few davs. I 'xpect the contractors gits rich out of 'em. "We want ye to keep yerself lookin' nice an' slick, an' yer Cousin Betsey got ye a toilet-case, with a comb an' brush an' lookin'-glass an' a bottle o' ha'r ile. Here's half a dozen cakes o' sweet-smellin' soap to keep yer ban's an' face clean, an' a couple o' towels. I don't s'pose Uncle Sam '11 give ye any. An' I've put in a clothes-brush ; ye'll have plenty o' use for that. Ye mustn't forgit to black up yer shoes every mornin'. I've got ye a good new brush an' a couple o' boxes o' blackin'. Here's a big pin-cushion full o' pins from Aunt Polly. A pin 's a purty small thing, but sometimes when ye want one ye want it mighty bad. These ought to last ye a year or two, if yeha^e ter stay that long, which goodness kno\vs I hope ye won't. I've fixed up a box o' medicine for ye. I know 3'e don't very often git sick, but then ye might git took sudden, an' them army 32 ENOUGH FOR A FAIR START. doctors won't know what ye want to bring ye 'round half 's well 's yer mammy does. Here's a bottle o' Number Six, an' 'nother o' rewbarb, an' a box o' headache pills, an' a bunch o' penn3^r'3^al. Ye know pennyr'yal tea 's powerful good when one gits under the weather. "The parson didn't forgit ye, nuther. He sent over a Bible fer 3^e to read an' a hymn-book fer ye to sing out of when ye feels like singin'. Ye'd better take 'long the Bible ye got last Christmas, too, 'cause suthin might happen to one on 'em, and I'd feel sorry to think ye hadn't none. Like enough a good many o' the soljers won't have Bibles an' they'll all want to be borryin' yours. I don't think ye'll care ter tote a very big library, but I jest wanted ter give ye my 'Pilgrim's Progress.' 'Tain't very heavy, an* ye'll be a sort of a pilgrim yerself. P'r'aps ye'll have purty nigh 's hard a time, 's the man John Bunyan writ 'bout. Here's somethin' I know ye'll like. Si. We've all had our fortygraphs took, an' Marier got ye this album in town yisterday. The picturs is all in there and there's room fer a few more. "Yer Cousin Jim bought ye a couple o' boxes o' paper collars, and Alarier made some neckties that'll go well with 'em. Here's a roll o' bandages an' a bundle o' lint. I hope and pray, Si, ye won't have any use fer 'em yerself, but I reck'n they're desperate car'less with all their differ- ent kinds o'shootin' things, an' it'll be a good idee to have 'em if ye do git hurt. Then I couldn't think o' yer goin' 'thout takin' 'long a few cans o' peaches, an' jell', an' some o' that cramberry jam ye're so fond of. An' I've put ye up four or five pounds o' nice butter. I guess ye can carry it. I s'pose I'll think o' lots more things afore ye go, but we've got 'nough here fer a fair start." Si expressed in the warmest terms his gratitude for his mother's thoughtfulness in providing so bountifully for him. Neither of them had the faintest conception of the actxial capaci+v of a soldier's knapsack; nor did they PREPARING FOR SLAUGHTER. 33 imagine that he would soon see the time when every pound he carried would seem to weigh a ton. Si's Sunday school teacher gave him a barbarous bowie* knife with a blade a foot long. It was provided with a leather sheath and a belt, so that he could wear it around his body. The presentation was made at a Sunday school picnic, which took place just before Company got march- ino- orders . The teacher .<^r'■^°?'>C'^l/ Hi/ 1 ¥;?•- delivered an impressive speech as he handed Si the hideous weapon. The women and chil- dren shuddered as they looked upon the hor- rible thing, and were deeply affected at the thought of Si roaming around through the south like a murder- ous brigand, plunging the reeking steel into the bow^els of everj^- body he met. The young soldier was greatly pleased wnth so practical and useful a gift. He assured his teacher that he would never bring dishonor upon the shining blade, and that he would make as much havoc with it as possible among the foes of his country. Some of those good people seemed really to believe that whole battalions of rebels would be gathered to their fathers, and the south would be filled with widows and orphans, through the devastating agenc}^ of that knife, wielded by the avenging arm of Si Klegg; in short, that he would soon end the war when he had a fair chance to use A DELUSION OF THE 34j Annabel's grief. it. He would throw himself upon the enemy and cut and hew and slash, covering the field with ghastly heaps of the slain. All that the rest of the 200th Indiana would have to do would be to follow him with picks and shovels, and bury the dead. Such were the notions of war, that pre- vailed during the first year or two of the great struggle.* And what of the neighbor's daughter ? How did Anna- bel pass the week between Si's enlistment and departure? The most marked effect upon her of his entering the service was a rapid crystallization of her feelings to-ward him. Si had not said anything to her about it, nor did there seem to be any pressing need that he should do so. When he called at her father's house the evening of the day he enlisted, she became vividly conscious that she was more to him than any other of the neighborhood girls, and equally so that she had a reciprocal feeling toward him. No premed- itation on either side had contributed to bring about this happy state of affairs betw^een them. Like Topsy, it had "just growed," and neither of them realized it until it de- veloped so rapidl}^ under the rij)ening influence of Si's blue uniform. Annabel cried herself to sleep that night, and then dreamed all sorts of awful things about Si away down in the army. In the morning her reddened eyes and sad face betrayed her. Her mother was not long in understanding the case. She had noted the symptoms, from time to time, and it was not difficult to arrive at the cause of her daughter's * The -writer deems it not inappropriate to say that on the eve of his departure for camp he and several comrades were each presented with one of these tremendous implements of destruction. The presentation was n\ade by a college professor, in a church, before a tearful and shud- dering audience. The general feeling appeared to be, as we buckled on those knives, that they would cause a speedy collapse of the Southern Confederacy. Candor compels the statement that no blood ever stained them save that of vagrant pigs and chickens ; and that their chief func tion in putting down the rebellion was to slice bacon for the frying pan or the ramrod. SHE RECEIVES AX " INVITE." 35 dejection. She thought well of Si and made no effort to disturb the amatory relations that were evidently fast be- coming established. True, both were 3^et too young to be "engaged, "but there seemed to be no occasion for parental interference. In the Klegg family it was much the same. Si's mother and sister had not been blind to his boyish partiality for Annabel. Their keen eyes and instincts read through the flimsy mantle of concealment with which Si tried to hide his feelings. If they had questioned him on the subject he w^ould probably have lied about it, as young peopleusually do when they have reached the mellow stage of love's en- chantment. The matter was quietly talked over, at odd moments, and it was decided that the best thing to do was to do nothing and let matters take their own course. The situation was, however, somewhat embarrassing to both Si and Annabel, in their intercourse with each other, and with their respective families. Their natural coyness at first placed the seal of silence upon their tongues. What- ever the future might have in store for them, their relations were as yet too immature to become a theme for conver- sation. But the rules which custom has laid down for affairs of the tender passion would not apply to such ex- traordinary cases as the one in question. Si was going to the war, and this soon swept away the barrier. "Si," said his sister Maria one day, "I've asked Annie over to supper to-night." "Annie who?" exclaimed Si, assuming dense ignorance, but at the same time growing very red in the face. "Annie who ! Wall I declare to goodness if I ever heerd the like ! Anybody 'd think ye knowed a thousand Annies an' ye couldn't tell which of 'em I'm talking about. Annie who! Oh, Sii" And Maria gave him a suggestive nudge, as if to quicken his perceptions and assist him to identify the particular Annie who had been invited to supper. "Wh_7, yes — that is — of course," said Si, while the hot 36 "bless you, my children!" blood mantled liis cheeks, "how sh'd I know what gals ye've asked. 'Tain't nothin' to me, nohow !" "Now, Jo-si-er Klegg, ye ought ter be 'shamed o' ^^erself, an' I b'lieve ye are, too ; I'm sure I'd be if I was you. But reely, Si, layin' all jokes aside, Annie 's a nice girl an' we're all glad ye think so much of her. Ye needn't try to keep it to yerself any longer, 'cause ye can't do it. We know all 'bout it just the same 's if ye'd told us. We had an idee it 'd please ye to ask her over and let us all git sort o' 'quainted like 'fore ye go off to the war. We've got ye cornered an' ye may as well give in. Don't ye think it 'U be the best way ?" Si rather thought, on the whole, that it would. After a little more parleying he decided upon an unconditional surrender. Then he told his sister how kind it was of her, and how glad he -was for what she had done. "But ye didn't tell me," he said, "whether she accepted yer invite." "She was a bit shj^at first, an' she asked me if I thoiighl you'd like to have her. I told her I knowed ye would, an' then she looked kind o' smiley an' said right away she'd come. I s'pose Si," Maria added with a sly twinkle in her eye, "you'll see to gittin' her home all right." Si did not answer in words, but the look upon his face sufficienth^ indicated the alacrity with which he would dis- charge this pleasing duty. Annabel came, pretty as a peach blossom. She blushed a good deal and so did Si, but father and mother and sister Maria gave no heed to the bright carnation hues that kept coming and going on those two pairs of cheeks. They just rattled away and tried to make Annabel feel that Si was not the only friend she ha.d in the family. Si frequently cast furtive glances across the table at the fair guest, though he did not take anj^part in the conversation worth mentioning. He scarcely spoke to Annabel during the whole time of her stay. He made some earnest speeches AX EVEXIXG STROLL. with liis e\^es, but reserved his vocal forces for the walk home \vitli her. Si was glad when she remarked that she guessed it was time for her to go. His services as escort were promptly offered. She told him coyly that he didn't have to go ; it wasn't very dark and she knew the way. She didn't mean it at all. She would have cried her eyes out if Si had taken her at her word and hung up his hat again. But she did not think he would do that, and he didn't. It is not a matter of public concern what passed be- tween them during that walk— whether they talked about the weather, the crops and the stars, or w^h ether thej^ maintained the same eloquent silence that mark- ed their manner to- ward each other at the supper table. It inay fairly be presumed , however, that ihey found A SATISFACTORY STATE OF AFFAIRS. something to sa\' of an interesting nattire, for Si's absence from home was protracted to a degree that was out of all proportion to the distance between the two houses. "Have they moved, Si?" asked Maria wath a smile, as her brother at length entered. "N-no, I reck'n not," he rephed rather dubioush', turn- ing his face to hide his confusion. The fact is, he could not have told whether the house of Annabel's father stood 38 A WELCOME ORDER. where it used to or had been moved over Into the next township. "Seems 's though ye'd been five mile," said Maria,. "Better set down 'n' rest ; ye must be tired !" Si said he wasn't tired a bit, and he didn't know that he had been gone very long. He w^as happy in the well- grounded belief that no stay-at-home rival could "cut him out "in the good graces of the farmer's fair daughter while he was "gone to the war." Annabel's nimble fingers were not idle during these days. She worked a pair of slippers for Si, which she thought would be comfortable for him to put on at night after a hard day's march. She stitched his name into the cor- ners of half a dozen nice handkerchiefs, and worked a fanc}^ bookmark, so that he would not lose the place in his Bible. Then she w^ent to the photographer's and sat for her picture. This she had enclosed in a pretty locket, with a w^isp of her hair, and a red ribbon fastened to it so that he could wear it around his neck, if he wanted to, and she hoped he did. All these things helped to make Si happy. A soldier couldn't help having a gay time of it with such an elaborate outfit. One day Si returned from town greatly elated. The roll of company Q had reached high-water mark. A hundred sturdy young men had filled its ranks, and they were ordered to be ready to take the train on the followifig day for the rendezvous. There were sad hearts that night in the farmer's humble home. Only a few hours, now, and father, mother and sister must say farewell to their boy — "It may be for years and it may be forever." Little sleep came to their eyes, and tears moistened the pillows. Si's head was filled with romantic visions of the new life upon which he was about to enter, but even these gave place now and then to thoughts of the separation. As he lay there he wondered if Annabel was asleep. He SI LEAVES THE OLD HOME. 39 would have felt comforted in a measure had he knv0^vn that through the too swiftly passing hours, she often w^iped from her soft cheeks the tears that flowed for sake of him. Before break of daj^ the family were astir and, with sad faces, busily engaged in the final preparations. Si's bag- gage had been for days hourl}^ augmented by sundry' articles of clothing, and gimcracks of various kinds. When they were all packed into a big box there seemed to be every- thing that he could need or desire — and a good deal more. He never had so much in his life before. His mother put in a lot of pies, cookies, etc., that she had baked for him, and Annabel brought over a large fruit-cake, which Si knew would taste good because she had made it with her own hands. "Bully for 3^ou, Annie," he exclaimed as she handed him the fragrant loaf. His words startled her, for she had never heard him speak in that way before. Si hastened to explain that it was time for him to begin to talk like a soldier and he felt that he ought to practice a little, so that he could be getting his hand in. Then farmer Klegg hitched the team to the big wagon, the box of quartermaster and commissary stores was loaded, and all got in. Si hoped Annabel would ride with them, but her diffidence overruled his suggestion to this effect. She would be there. Everybody for miles around was going to see the bo^'s off, and she would ride with her owm family. As the hour of departure approached, a great crowd gathered at the railway station. There were fathers, mothers, sisters, sweethearts and friends, to say the part- ing word and give the farewell embrace to their loved ones. None in that throng whose heart w^as not moved as it had never been before. The company formed at the headquarters and with fife and drum and waving banner, marched down the street. 40 TEARS, CHEERS AND ADIEUS. fillingthe air- with shouts. At the station the soldiers -were permitted to break ranks and a few minutes Avere given for hasty adieus. Can words depict the scene — the streaming eyes, the clinging clasp of loving arms, the tender words of affection and of admonition ? "All aboard!" OFF TO THE WAR. Rudely the sacred ties are sundered. War is only hard and cruel, and its demands are inexorable. Si's face is wet with the tears of mother and sister, and his cheek is warm with their kisses. Tearing himself from their enfolding arms he takes for an instant the hand of Annabel and looks into her brimming eyes. No word passes their quivering lips. Then he dashes away. He is going to be a soldier now. WHIRLING AWAY. 41 The great pile of baggage — enough for a brigade twG years later — has been put on board, and at the signal the train moves off, amidst cheers and shouts and farewell waving of handkerchiefs. Faster flow the tears of those who watch the receding train that is bearing sons and brothers and husbands awa\' to scenes of suffering and death. Alany of those brave boj's will not come back. Who of them will go down in the nerce storm of battle? who will join the end- less procession that da\^ by day moves from the hospitals to the populous cities of the dead ? Ah, how like mountains they were piled — the pangs of mothers and sisters and wives at parting with those they loved ; and, through the long bitter years that followed, the dropping tears and the hearts crushed with grief for the unreturning ones, in a million homes forever clouded by the dark shadows of war ! CHAPTER IV. Contains Some Observations on a Soldier's Equipments, akd Sees THE Two Hundredth Indiana Off for the Front. SI KLEGG soon forgot the sad parting as the train swiftly bore him away. Visions of his new life took entire possession of his mind and heart, crow^ding out all other thoughts. The brightly-colored picture that his fancy painted was but the frontispiece to the volume whose dark pages were yet sealed to him. This feeling v^as universal among the members of Com- pany Q. Moved by the excitement of the occasion they indulged in the wildest hilarity. They jested and laughed 42 A TUMULTUOUS TRIP. and shouted and sang, manifesting a convubive enthusi- asm that promised great things for the future if they could only keep up the head of steam that was now lifting the safety-valve. With valorous words those lion-hearted patriots recounted to one another the prodigious deeds of heroism that they would perform as soon as they met the enemy — and they all hoped that they \vouldn't have long to \vait. At all the stopping places crowds cheered the volunteers, the bovs responding with tremendous power of lungs. As they went whirling along, the wave of a kerchief from a farm-house by a rustic lass or matron — particularly the former — was always the signal for a tempestuous response. The impression seemed to prevail among the people along the route that the country \vas safe now that Compan^^ Q was on its way to the field, and it was high time for the rebels to quit and go home ; they doubtless would as soon as they learned that the company had started. So far as might have been judged from surface indications, those on board the train were even more strongly impressed with this belief. An hour's ride brought Company Q to the place of rendez- vous, where the 200th Indiana regiment was being rapidly organized. Most of the companies were alread\' on the ground, and the full complement arrived during the day. There w^as a great and pressing emergency across the border, and the utmost activity prevailed in rushing the new levies to the front. The Presid^^nt's call ^or "three hundred thousand more" had been piv^.^nptiy and cneer- fully met, and the railroads were choked with trains bear- ing fresh regiments to the point of danger to reinforce the veteran army that was vainly striving -^o check the north- ward sweep of the enemy's confident legions. Everv city and hamlet was wrought up to the highest pitch of excite ment and patriotic fervor. Immediately upon alighting from the train the ra^jMbers AT THE RENDEZVOUS. • 43 cf Company learned that orders had been received for the regiment to perfect its organization at once and hold itself ready to move at a moment's notice. It was understood that the 200th would leave that evening. Si was glad of it. He was burning with a desire to fight the rebels. To his mind everything indicated that the commander of the Union army was only awaiting the ar- rival of Company Q to fall upon the enemy and smite him hip and thigh. * Si was confident that before another day had passed he would be charging around on the field of battle, climbing over heaps of slaughtered rebels, and s \r- rounding the name of Klegg with a halo of immortal renown. Language cannot describe the excitement that prevailed that day among the thousand impetuous recruits who were being crystallized into a regiment— for there was not a man of them that did not feel just as Si did. Nobody thought of anything but hastening the work of prepara- tion. Officers in gorgeous uniforms, on horseback and on foot, were hustling around with that consciousness of im- portance that comes to most men when they first find themselves clothed with authority over those otherwise their equals, and able to say, in the language of the Cen- turion of old: "For I am a man having soldiers under me; and I say to this man, Go, and he goeth; and to an- other. Come, and he cometh ; and to my servant. Do this, and he doeth it"— if he don't he goes to the guard-house or is tied up by the thumbs. The inestimable privilege of commanding one's fellow-men, and possessing the power to compel prompt and unquestioning obedience, is a luxury to be found nowhere but in the army. Everybody was at high pressure, and displayed an energy befitting the crisis. The wildest rumors concerning the movements of the rebel army and the desperate state of affairs at the front, went from lip to lip and found plenty of behevers. The more absurd and preposterous they were 4-4 . COMPANY Q IS ORGANIZED. the more ready credence \vas given to them. In this way fresh fuel was constantly added to the fires that raged with quenchless fury in the breasts of those men — they were far from being soldiers yet. The climax was reached when somebody started the rumor that the rebels had set fire to the Ohio river and burned it ; that they were march- ing over dry-shod, in swarms as countless as the locusts of Egypt or the grasshoppers of Kansas, and were sweep- ing up through Indiana at the i*-ite of twenty miles an hour. In calmer moments the incongruities of this intelligence might have been detected, but in the seething excitement they were not thought of, and the startling news was re- ceived as gospel truth. Every one who repeated it added thousands to the invading host and miles to the hourly rate at \vhich it Avas approaching. Then the men began to inquire impatiently about their guns, but were informed that these would not be furnished until they reached the army. There v^as a good deal of grumbling at this, for the first thing that a recruit always wanted was to get hold of something to shoot with. The prospect that in their defenceless condition they would be immediately attacked by the enemy had a highly inflammatory effect. Company Q went through the form of "electing" its officers, though it w^as already understood who they would be, and their commissions had been duly issued by the Governor. It was a harmless fiction, to make the members of the company think they had something to say in the matter. Then the boys listened very attentively w^hile the newly "elected" Captain read out the appoint- ments of non-commissioned officers — five sergeants and eight corporals. No major-general was ever prouder of his w^cD-earned stars than were some of those corporals of the chevrons that within half an hour decorated the sleeves of their blouses. They had but a vague notion of the official functions of corporals, but they stood a round higher on the military ladder than the privates, and this knovv^l- "ONLY A PRIVATE." 45 edge brought with it a consciousness of superiority, and a feeling that they were indispensable to the prosecution of the w^ar. Si Klegg stood with ears agog while the list was being read. He did not expect to hear his name called out and so he suffered no disappointment. In this respect he was more fortunate than many others, who thought that the captain showed very poor judgment in making his selec- tions. Si had no more thought of being a corporal than he had of being a brigadier, and he was perfectly content to let his name remain among the K's, down in the body of the company roll. The captain did not hit the bull's- eye every time inappointingthe non-commissioned officers — no captain ever did in organizing a new company. Ex- ternal appearances were often deceitful, and it was not easy to say from a man's looks how good a soldier he would make. Like tallow, he had to be tried — and in the fire, too. A year or so of real solid service, with a battle or a skir- mish now and then, aided greatly in a proper solution of the question. The quartermaster was up to his ears in business, issuing such clothing and other articles as the men needed to complete their equipment. When the new orderly of Company Q called up the boys to get their overcoats there was a great scramble. The orderly handed them out just as they came, without reference to size, leaving the men to fit themselves as best they could by" "trading" with one another. It really made little difference, for there was not much "fit" to them anyway; but when a fat man found himself in possession of a coat that would not come together, while his lean comrade had one that reached half way around the second time ; when a tall man drew a very short coat and a short man a very long one, there \vas need for a harmonious adjustment. This was measurably accomplished by a system of exchange, but of necessity 4G NOT ''made to ORb^R.*' there were some odd ones who had to take such as the\ could get. Si's circumference of body, in consequence of the pleni- tude of his mother's commissariat, was somewhat in excess of its due proportion to his height. It was very likely that after a while a smaller garment would hold him, but the present needs of his well-rounded form required one of large capacity. When he found one that he could button over his stomach the " tails " reached to his ankles. His sister Maria would have laughed herself into h^^s- terics if she could have seen him in that big blue coat. Si said confidentially to one of his com- rades that he didn't w^ant to begin grumbling right off, but he should think they might have measured him and made him a coat that would fit in- stead of giving him such a thing as that. He learned in time that Uncle Sam did not run his tailor shop on that principle. And then the great unwieldy cape that flapped about his arms— he could not imagine what that w^as for. His first impulse was to cut it off,* but he finally thought he would w^ait and see, as they w^ere all made that way, and tJaere must be some mysterious purpose in it. He did, however, shorten the tails a foot or so by amputation with his knife. There was less difficulty with the blankets, as they were all alike- and there was no choice. Si thought they were much the same as the horse blankets in his father's THE ARMY OVERCOAT. SI DRAWS A KNAPSACK. 47 barn. He wondered if they would get curry-combs with them. When he first spread his blanket upon the ground to see how it looked his eye caught the "U. S." in the center. "I s'pose that means they b'long to ?7s," he said, " 'n' they've marked 'em so nobody won't steal 'em!" He thought this was an excellent idea, and showed the care and thoughtfulness of the government in pro- viding for the soldiers. He contemplated with satisfac- tion the fact that, so far as the blanket w^as concerned, he would have an advantage over the tall men, as he could more easily keep his feet warm.. Then the knapsacks were distributed. Si had never seen one before. He had only heard there was such a thing that a soldier carried his surplus clothing in. He had an idea it was built something like a trunk, such as other people used w^hen they traveled. He opened it out and examined with curious eye its great "pocket" on one side and its flaps and straps on the other. He stuffed his blanket into the pocket, buckled in his overcoat, and then tried to put it on to see how it would feel. The first time he stuck his arms through what he conceived to be the places intended for them, the knapsack landed squarely in front of him. This, he was sure, could not be right, and he tried it again. He got mixed up in a chaos of straps and buckles and the riotous knapsack dangled under one of his arms. Extricating himself, he laid it upon the ground and prepared for another trial. "I'll git the durned thing on 'f it takes t'll Christmas!" he exclaimed. After another examination of the perverse contrivance, bethought he had found the correct theory of putting it on. Swinging it up to his shoulders, and leaning far forward that it might the more easily be kept in its position until he could make the necessary connection, he thrust one arm through the closed strap, holding it up from the rear 48 TRYING TO "get THE HANG " OF IT. with his other hand, almost unjointing his shoulder. Then he tried to fasten the hook and had nearly succeeded when the knapsack gave a great lurch, as the cargo of a ship shifts in a storm, and rolled to leeward. It carried him off his balance, and knapsack and Si went down upon the ground all in a heap. Si was not in the habit of losing his temper, but as he again got upon his feet there were symptoms of fermenta- tion. He began ^to utter language as expressive as his Sunday school instruction would permit, when one of his comrades approached, laughing heartily at the result of his tussle with the knapsack. "Lemme help ye git the hang of it, pard!" he said. The speaker was lank and lean, and his w^ell- tanned face gave evi- dence of much exposure to wind and sun. He was a kind of "black sheep" in the company. Whence he came no one knew. He entered the SI FINDS HIS MATCH. recruiting office one day and enlisted in Company Q in a business-like way, as if he knew just what he was doing. The bo^^s dubbed him "Shorty " because he ^vas so tall — or rather he looked so on account of his thinness. Si had no accfuaintance with him, and they had not even spoken together before. "Thank'ee; don't keer 'f ye do!" replied Si. "I didn't s'pose the thing 'd floor me that w^ay. Sh'd think chey mout git up some better contraption 'n that !" "I reck'n thev couldn't do no better considerin'," said "SHORTY. 49 Shorty. It's easy 'nough when ye larn how. Ye see I was out a while when the war fust started 'nthe three months' sarvice, 'n' I picked up a Httle suthin 'bout soldierin'. I hap'n'd ter strike the town that day I jined Comp'ny Q, 'n' I jest tuk a notion ter give her 'nother turn. Now this 's the way ter sling a knapsack." Short}^ first put it on himself, showing Si how to take hold of it, swing it up into position and fasten the end of the strap under his arm. "I don't see nothin' the mat- ter with that," exclaimed Si. "I kin do that 'n' not half try!" Shorty took it off in sol- dierly style and laid it upon the ground. Si then renew- ed the encounter, determined that he would not let it get away with him this time. With a little help from Shorty he succeeded, and marched around with the great lump on his back, and a smile of satisfaction at the achieve- ment of his first victory. "It's goin' ter be jest fun ter carry this thing, "he said. "I've heern tell 't some o' the soljers makes a right smart shorty. o' fuss 'bout luggin' the'r knapsacks, but 't seems 's if I'd jest enj'y it." "I hope ye will," was Shorty's only answer. He did not want to dampen the ardor of the ambitious young recj'uit. ''P'r'aps ye kin tell a feller what this is," Si said to Shor-'y, as the orderly handed him a. piece of rubber cloth, 50 THE PONCHO OR "GUM BLANKET.'* six feet long by four feet wide, with a slit eighteen inches in length running crosswise in the center. Si thougiii there was no end to the curious things he was getting for his outfit. "That's a poncho," replied Shorty. "What makes 'em call it that, 'n' what's it fer?" "I reck'n they calls it a poncho 'cause that's its name,*' said Shorty. "Ye don't want ter stick up yer nose at it, nuther, fer it'll come 'bout 's hand}^ to ye 's anything ye'll git. It's mighty good ter spread on the ground under yer blanket when ye goes ter bed. Ye know wet won't soak through Injy-rubber, 'n' it'll help pervent ye ketchin' the rumaticks. 'Sides that, when ye have ter lie down 'n the mud it keeps yer blanket clean. Then when ye're marchin' in the rain it beats 'n umbreller all holler. Y^e jest take it this way." Shorty proceeded to illustrate his lecture on the value of the article by thrusting his head through the slit. The poncho fell loosely around him from his shoulders, extend- ing as far down as the knees, before and behind, and covering him as a mantle — not wholly unlike that fantastic achievement of the modern dressmaker, the " Mother Hub- bard." With the "gum " side outward it gave promise of excellent protection from rain. Then Si put it on and promenaded around as proud as a peacock. He could hardly find words strong enough to express his admiration for a government that had provided so bountifully for him. "I don't keer 'f it rains pitchforks," he said, " 's long 's I've got this thing." Every hour Si felt more and more glad that he had enlisted ; he was going to have such a nice time of it. Shorty did not exaggerate the value of this item iu the soldier's wardrobe. Its official name was the "poiicho," but this word had no meaning to the boys, few of whom were supplied with dictionaries, and they always called it THE INDISPENSABLE HAVERSACK. 51 the "gum blanket." The specific purposes for which it was made were those described by Shorty, but it had many other uses. It was convenient to wrap around a quarter of pork or mutton which it was desired to smuggle into camp. It was provided with a flap and buttons to close the aperture in the center, and was handy to carry upon the shoulder half a bushel or so of apples or sweet potatoes. About half the ponchos, after they had been in service a few months, had "checker-boards" penciled or painted on them, and the other half had the necessary squares and figures for "chuck-a-luck," "sweat," "Honest John," and other fascinating games that tended to impoverish those who were addicted to them. Another detail returned from a visit to the quarter- master, and the orderly began to hand around to each man a white canvas bag that would hold about a peck, with a strap attached to opposite sides. "What's this?" asked Si of his new acquaintance, who ^was standing near as one of the bags was given to him. " That's yer haversack !" "But what's it yer.^" * ' Ter carry yer grub in ! " replied Shorty. ' ' If ye' ve got '9 good a appetite 's I think ye hev f 'm yer looks, ye can't git 'long 'thout that, nohow. Ye may see the time 't ye'll wish ye had more ter put in it ; but jest let me tell ye tei hang outer yer haversack through thick 'n' thin. It'll be the best friend j^e'll find in the army." Si readily coincided with his comrade's views concerning its value, and inwardly resolved that v^hatever might betide he would stick to his haversack, and defend it with his life. He thought it was very nice, it looked so white and clean. There were haversacks — and haversacks. Theoretically they were all water-proof, but practically they were quite the reverse, particularly after they had become a little worn. 52 EDUCATING THE SENSES. A penetrating rain storm was very likely to make a sorry mess of their contents. Some of them were black and some were white — that is to say, they were white when new. By the time one of these had been in use for a few weeks as a receptacle for chunks of fat bacon and fresh meat, damp sugar tied up in a rag — perhaps a piece of an old shirt — potatoes and other vegetables that might' be picked up along the route, it took on the color of a print- ing-office towel. It would have been alike offensive to the eyes and nose of a fastidious person'. Very likely he would have gone hungry a good while before he could bring him- self to eat anything out of it. But the educated taste of the veteran soldier disdained all such squeamishness. When his regiment halted he "would drop by the road- side, draw his grimy and \vell-greased haversack around in front of him, and from its dark and odorous recesses bring forth what tasted better to him than the daintiest morsel to the palate of an epicure. It was all in getting used to such things. If at this time one of the war-v^orn haversacks that went through "to the Sea" had been laid before Si Klegg at dinner time, he would have placed his fingers to his nose and turned away in dire disgust, saying: "Is thy servant ac/o^that he should do this thing?" It would be all. right after a while, but he would have to come to it gradually. "Rome was not built in a day;" no more did a soldier learn in that limited time to eat a campaign meal out of one of those fearful haversacks and be thankful. Some- times a stray recruit joined a veteran company. His hands were white, his face clean, and his appetite had been pampered by home diet. For a time he was alto- gether too "nice" and particular, and the old soldiers treated with withering scorn such symptoms of efTeminacy. No^v and then, in a spasm of reform, a man would try to wash his haversack, but the laundry facilities of the arm}^ were sadly defective, and only indifferent results A. VARIETY IN HAVERSACKS. 53 were attained. The original whiteness of that haversack was gone forever. If it showed an improved appearance, it was but brief and delusive. It w' as soon blacker than before, and the last state of that haversack was worse than the first. The only superiority of the haversack made of black material lay in the fact that the effects of use were not so plain to the eye. The grease and dirt were there just the same, but they did not* show, and less violence was done to one of the senses. As far as the nose was concerned, there was no difference. Indeed, the combination of smells from the black haversack was apt to be the more pungent and overwhelming, because its uncleanness v^as less ap- parent to the eye, and, therefore, liable to be neglected. It should be understood that these conditions did not exist to such a degree when the soldiers were lying in camp, w^ith opportunities to keep themselves and their belong- ings in a state of cleanliness, and to supply themselves with new articles of equipment when needed. It was when, for weeks at a time, they were on the march and the picket-line, and lying in the trenches, day and night — when considerations of personal comfort were sunk in the one all-pervading purpose to fight the enemj^ and end the war. A new officer generally provided himself with a shiny, patent-leather haversack that would hold a day's rations, and had a convenient pocket in which he might carry a flask — for medicinal purposes — while his reserve supplies were transported in a wagon or upon the strong shoulders of a burly "contraband." A thorough soaking was enough to use up one of these dainty affairs, and during the long campaigns the officer was glad enough to throw one of the regulation haversacks over his shoulder and take "pot-luck" with the boys. The next addition to Si's outfit was a canteen. This was a simple article, made of tin and covered with cloth, shaped like the earth, except that it was a good deal more 5 4? THE CANTEEN. "flattened at the poles," and with a cloth strap running around at the equator by which it was suspended over one shoulder and carried against the opposite hip. It would hold about three pints. Of course, Si had to put it on and wear it a while. Every new thing he received was a source of wonder and delight to him, gratifying his curiosity and making him feel more like a soldier. Ever since he signed the roll of Company Q he had been im- patient for the day when he should be arrayed in all the panoply of war. The canteen was the natural complement of the haver- sack. These two articles of equipage were as inseparable and as necessary to each other as the two boots of a pair. When a soldier lost either of them by the casualties of war, he gave no sleep to his eyes nor slumber to his eyelids until the vacuum in his accouterments was filled. If a soldier had to have anything, he generally got it by fair means or foul. The uses of the canteen w^ere manifold. Its chief duty as a factor in the Avar was the transportation of water, although it was found equally adapted to carrying some other things. It came handy to the forager for milk, cider or molasses. In very rare instances it was also used for liquids of a more vigorous and searching character than any of these — for now and then a man found his way into the army who v^as not a member in good standing of a temperance society. A peculiarity of the canteen was that its usefulness did not end when it was no longer fit to serve in its legitimate sphere. When a lot of them became battered and leaky, and the company commander w^anted to drop them from his monthly return of government property for which he was responsible, he would have them duly condemned by a board of officers appointed to hold a solemn inquest upon them. These regulation forms having been com- plied with, the old canteens were eagerlv sought after ITS POSTHUMOUS USES. 55 by the soldiers, who were now at Hberty to make such use of them as their ingenuity might suggest. The necessities and deprivations of active campaigning developed among the veterans a wonderful fertility of resource. Under such circumstances men become intensely practical. Everything that could in any way contribute to human welfare and comfort was brought into play, and the makeshifts resorted to were often startling and ludicrous. The old canteen was thrown into the fire and the heat soon melted the solder by which the halves were joined, and the soldier found himself in possession of two tin basins eight or ten inches across and in the center about two inches deep. One of these he carried day after day in his haversack. It wa^not often that the latter was so full of provisions that there was not plenty of room for it. Its weight was nothing, and he found it useful in ways that the man who made it never thought of. The government forgot tosuppl\^the soldiers with wash- basins, and the half-canteen made a convenient substitute. It was a trifle small, it is true, but by being frequently re- plenished it answered the purpose admirably. After the man had finished his ablutions he would rinse it out with a dash of water — or if he was too hungry to do this it was a matter of small moment — split the end of a stick for a handle, and he had a fr3nng-pan — a prime article. Tons and tons of the flesh of swine were fried in the half-canteen, not to mention the pieces of chicken and the succulent vegetables that were in this way prepared for eating. If he drew coffee in a "raw" state, the half-canteen was an excellent roaster. Now and then it came handy for cook- ing "flapjacks," when he chanced to get hold of something of which to make them. In the fall, when the corn in the fields was hardening, he took a half-canteen, stabbed it full of holes with his bayonet, from the inside, and the convex surface made an excellent grater, and a dish of "samp" 56 THE artist's view of it. relieved the everlasting monotony of regulation diet. Even ripe corn was thus grated into a sort of meal from which mush and indescribable cakes were fearfully and v^onder- fully made. Indeed, for months at a time, a half-canteen and an old USEFUL CAREER OF THE CANTEEN. fruit-can, in which to boil coffee, comprised his entire culinary "kit." They were simple but they were enough, and in their possession he was happy. The nice coffee-pot and frying-pan that he once owned had long since siK cumbed to the vicissitudes of army life. ORDERED TO THE FRONT. 57 Sometimes the veteran found himself suddenly placed in a position where he wanted something between himself and the muskets of the enemy, and he wanted it right oif. There was no time to send back to the rear for picks and nhovels. With a bayonet to loosen the dirt he scratched out a hole with his half-canteen, and, with the aid of a log or two or three rails or a few stones, against which he threw the earth, he had a safe protection from bullets. In this way a line of experienced skirmishers would burrow into the ground and almost disappear from sight with a quick- ness that was amazing. Illustrations of the clever uses of the old canteen might be almost indefinitely multiplied. Si Klegg had but the .faintest idea of the many ways in which that simple article of his outfit would prove to him "a friend in need " during his devious wanderings as he followed the flag of the 200th Indiana. Toward evening came b}^ telegraph the expected order to take the cars at once for the front. The emergency w^as becoming hourly more pressing. There seemed a strong probabilitv that the regiment would be called into imme- diate service of the most active kind. If so, it would take the field at a disadvantage, not having had an hour's drill or a syllable of military instruction. Most of the regi- ments had been drilled in camp a few weeks before leaving their respective States. The members of the 200th Indiana would, however, be spared much of the mental anxiety and suffering that was endured through the slbwly-dragging days by hundreds of thousands while they were held in camp like impatient hounds in leash, lest the war would be over before they could get there. So the order to move was received with uproarious cheering. The fledgelings were panting to "see the elephant," and there was good prospect that they would soon gaze upon him in all his glory and magnitude. There was much hubbub during the brief time allowed the men 58 A GENHKAL HUSTLE. to get themselves in readiness. The officers seemed to consider it necessary to make a good deal of fuss, and they stormed around in a convulsive way, shouting their orders to the men. The sergeants and corporals had a misty idea that they ought to do something by virtue of their positions and the honors that had been heaped upon them, and their voices helped to swell the din. A day's ration of "soft bread" and cooked meats was issued to supply the wants of the men during the trip by rail. Most of them had no need for this, however, as they had brought from home that morning pie and cake and other food, as much as they could eat in a week. Si thought he had better take all the provisions he could get, and stowed his portion carefully in his haversack- Then he filled his new canteen and thought he would take a "pull" at it just to see how it worked. It was a very small thing — learning how to drink out of a canteen — but there were many whose first effort to do this was noi wholh^ satisfactory. It was so with Si. Without i thought that there was anything to learn about so simpk a matter, he gayly swung up the canteen, threw back his head, rolled his eyes, puckered his lips, and placed the "nozzle " at the opening. He did not get his lips fixed just right, and from the sides of his mouth streams of cold water went streaking down his neck and thence traversing his warm body and bringing up in his shoes. He gave a little shiver as the canteen came down quicker than it went up. After experimenting with some caution for a minute or two, he caught the "knack" of suction and of staying the downward rush of water, and the problem was solved. Then he took a long drink, and never in his life had water tasted half so good to him as when it came gurgling and fizzing from the neck of that canteen. Si hastily packed in his knapsack the few articles of clothing he had drawn, rolled up his blanket and strapped SI LEARNS TO "DRESS UP." 59 tt in its place, and he was ready to advance upon the enemy. ' ' Compan}^ — Fall in! " shouted the captain, impressively, as the drum at headquarters gave the signal. "Orderly, form the company!" Now the orderly sergeant knew just as much about cal- culating the time and duration of the next eclipse of the moon as he did about "forming the company." "Git into a string, you fellers!" he exclaimed, and the men huddled together in a state of almost hopeless cin- arch\^ They swayed and bulged and surged forward and backward in the vain attempt to form a line. The orderly bustled up and down the front with great zeal, judiciously distributing pushes and punches to the more perverse ones, all the time exercising his tongue in a manner that \\.^as highly encouraging for future usefulness. The captain was about as ignorant as the orderly, but it wasthelatter's dut\' to form the company, and this fact let the captain out, affording a convenient cloak to hide his lack of knowl- edge. He kindly went to the orderl3''s assistance, backed b\' the two lieutenants, and the combined efforts of the four finally brought the men to anchor in two tolerably straight "rows." "Dress up, there, you Klegg!" yelled the captain with terrifying vehemence. Si tremblingly began to examine his clothes. A hasty inspection showed him that they were in proper order. "Please, sir," he said with some hesitation, "I don't see how I can be any more 'dressed up ' 'n I am, 'thout I gits some nicer clothes !" "Silence!" roared the captain. "Don't j^ou know that 'dress up ' means to get into a straight line?" "Nobod\' never told me," replied Si. *'Not another word, sir. I've told you now and that's enough, Ye've got to learn that there ain't to be atiy back talk, either." 60 MUSTERED INTO SERVICE. Si was naturally impulsive and quick to resent anv attempt to impose upon him. He wanted to say some- thing in reply, but on second thought concluded he had better keep quiet. He did think, however, that the cap- tain need not have made so much ado about it. Si had met at the very threshold — as did many others- one of the most difficult lessons to be learned before he could be a perfect soldier. It was not an easy matter foi volunteers of such a class as largely composed the Union army to submit, without question or reply, to the moods and whims of those who were in no way their superiors, save in a military sense, and to yield implicit obedience to their commands — to sink the individual in the soldier. Some never succeeded in this. The adjutant and sergeant-major had as much trouble in forming the regiment as the orderly did in getting com- pany Q into line, but it was accomplished after much trib- ulation. Before starting it was necessary — according to "Regula- tions" — that the men should be formally mustered into the service of the United States. Under the circumstances it was determined to muster the whole regiment in a "lump, "instead of in detail by companies. As soon as the line was formed the pompous mustering officer appeared, in tow of the colonel. "What they goin' ter do now?" Si Klegg asked of Shorty. "I reck'n we're goin' ter git mustered," was the reply. "It'll be kind o' nice," said Si, "ter have mustard t' eat on biled ham — fer I s'pose the guvyment '11 give us ham once 'n a while — but I hain't got nothin' ter carry it in." " 'Taint that," replied Shorty, laughing; "it's only jest a leetle red-tape pufformance 't clenches the nail 't the 'listin' ossifer druv into ye, 'n' fixes ye so ye can't git out 'less ye git shot out. That's what they calls gittin' mus- tered. But come ter think on't, yer idee wa'n't fur out o' AWAY TO THE TENTED FIELD. 61 the way. Ye gits mustered now 'n' ye're likely ter git peppered when j'e strike the rebils, 'n mebbe je'W get salted down for keeps. There ain't much danger 't ye won't be purty well seasoned 'fore ye git through 'th this thing." The ceremony lasted but a few minutes and then all was ready for the start. The colonel and the field and staff officers, on gaily caparisoned horses, pranced around, the band struck up a lively march, and, amidst the cheers of the spectators and the responsive shoutsof the soldiers, the column moved off. The knapsacks were not very heavy, as they contained nothing but clothing. Si had not opened the box he brought from home, and had some concern respecting its fate. He was reassured by the information that, as there had been no opportunity for the men to put their things in order, all the baggage would accompany the regiment to its first stopping place, vt^here its equipment would be fully provided. The train had been reported to be in readiness at the railway station, but of course it wasn't; nobody ever heard of such a thing. The regiment had to wait and stand around for two hours before it received the welcome order, "All aboard!" It was after dark when the eager men packed themselves into the cars for an all- tiight ride. The two engines whistled and coughed, the people hurrahed and waved hats and handkerchiefs, the soldiers thrust their heads out of the windows and yelled —and the 200th Indiana was off to the war. CHAPTER V. In Which the Bright Colors that Fancy Painted Begin to Fade— The Soldier and his " Pard" — How Si was Led From the Straighi AND Narrow Way of Soldierly Rectitude. THERE was little sleep on the train that night. The boys fought imaginary battles and yelled and sang and laughed at one another's jests. It was a long time before the members of the 200th Indiana found another occasion for such hilarity — not till those that were left of them went home at the close of the war. "There won't be so much laughing in a few days," said the colonel, "let 'em enjoy themselves while they can !" A few were sober and thoughtful, realizing that every moment was bringing them nearer to scenes of danger and death. Some wanted to sleep as best they could in the crowded seats, but this was impossible in the universal tumult of mirth and jollity that prevailed. At frequent intervals the soldiers stirred up the musicians to play mar- tial airs, and the roar of the fast speeding train was drowned by rattling drums and screaming fifes and the shouts evoked by the inspiring strains. One would hardly have thought those men were going to war to kill and be killed; but that was the way all the regiments went out. Si had for his seat-mate his new friend Shortj^, who had volunteered to help him out of his quandary with the knap- sack. He was taken with his kindly ways, notwithstand- ing his rough exterior, and was quite disposed to improve 62 si's first view of war, 63 the acquaintance. Si was an active and noisy participant in the night's merriment, and in the morninghe felt consid- erably fagged. He told Shorty that he thought on the whole they had had a pretty hard time of it. About breakfast time the regiment reached its immediate destination. As the men alighted from the train they found themselves surrounded by reminders of war. They had reached the grand army of which each of them was to become an atom. Thenceforward they were to be iden- tified with its history — its triumphs and its defeats. There were soldiers everywhere, engaged in the various duties incident to preparation for a great campaign. The streets of the city were full of wagons loaded with ammunition, food, clothing, forage and army supplies of all kinds. On every hand Avere heard the yell of the mule-driver and the crack of his whip. There were officers of every grade dashing about, cavalrymen with clanking sabers galloping hither and thither, artillery rumbling over the pavements, and bodies of infantry moving from point to point. All was bustle and confusion, such as the e^^es of these new soldiers had never looked upon before. Si Klegg was keenly interested in all that he saw and heard. To him there was a fascination in this pomp and display — the uniforms, the glittering baj'-onets, the men marching with measured tread, and the bespangled officers — that bound him as with a spell. At last had come the realization ot his romantic dreams. He could scarcely wait until he should have a gun to put on his shoulder. "Hello, sonn}^ does yer mother know ye're out?" It was very cruel to say this to Si, as he stood with his hands in his pockets and with open mouth and eyes gazing in astonishmsnt at the scenes around him. The man who said it was a rusty-looking soldier who, with a few of his comrades, chanced to pass that way. "Yes, mother said I rni-ht come!" said Si, innocentlv. 64 fliS TEMPER IS RUFFLED. Then the veterans laughed loudly and stopped to "have some fun." Si could not for his life see anything for them to laugh at. "Say, bub, give us a hunk o' gingerbread!" "Look at the big ridgment o' tenderfoots! Won't thcj be a-humpin' one o' these days?" "Jest see them paper collars !" "Had any hardtack yet?" Si did not comprehend the army lingo. It was as if they had spoken to him in an unknown tongue. But he found that they were making game of him and then his wrath began to I rise. In fact, he went so far as to express a willing- ness to fight the entire squad. His eyes flashed as he said to them : "I've comc'down here to do some fightin', 'n' I'd jest like to git m}^ hand in!" This warlike dem- onstration was greeted with jeers and shouts of laughter. "Better save what sand ye've got, young feller," said one of them, "ye'll have need fer it 'fore long." A hand was laid upon Si's arm, and Shorty drew him aside. "I don't blame ye fer gittin' mad, Si, " he said, ' ' but it don't alius pay. When the odds is too big ye can't do nothin SI S FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE VETERANS. GETTING ACQUAINTED WITH THE VETERANS. 65 but grin 'n' b'ar it. Them fellers don't mean no harm. They has ter have the'r fun Avhen they gits a chance ; they look 's if they hadn't been havin' much on it lately. Ef ye was hungry, they'd divide their last cracker with ye, 'n' ef ye was lyin' sick er wounded they'd give ye all the blankets they had, ef ye needed 'em. Soldiers is queer bein's 'n' ye have ter git so ye kin understand 'em." Shorty's homeh^ philosophy had its designed effect and Si soon recovered his equanimity. When his tormen- tors found him laughing at their good-natured badinage, they left him and turned their fire upon others. These men had been in active service for a year. Their clothing and their faces and hands gave abundant evidence that the}^ had been somewhere. Si eyed them curiously and he wondered if he would ever be like them. "Attention, Company 0! " The regiment formed and marched out two or three miles to the place assigned it for a camp. It was not fat to march, and the men had little to carry, but for some- reason they were all very glad when they got there. Thet had a slight foretaste of how hard it was to travel "ii' harness." After reaching the outskirts of the cit\^ thej saw nothing but camps. As far as the eye could reach in every direction, the white villages of regiments and brig- ades dotted every field, wood and hillside. Si wondered where so many soldiers came from. The aspect of the 200th Indiana "gave it away" com- pletely. The men were without arms, their clothes were new and their faces clean. The full ranks had not been scorched and shriveled by the hot blast of war. There could be no mistaking the fact that it was a new regiment just from home. The veterans would always rather go without a dinner than to miss a chance to "nag" a fresh arrival of green soldiers. It was the height of enjoyment to stand b\ tne roadside as, they trudged by and assail them in front 66 THE 200TH IN A DRIZZLE. flank and rear with pungent remarks and questions clothed in all the luxuriant beauty of the army vernacular. It was great sport for the veterans, but not quite so funny for their victims. All the way out the long-suffering members of the 200th Indiana had to run the gauntlet of the tanned and bearded soldiers of the crop of '61. The band at the head of the column kept playing defiantly, but It did not take the men long to learn that it was the part of wisdom to receive in silence the "slings and arrows" that were constantly hurled upon them. Perhaps it was this experience, quite as much as the fatigue of the march, that induced the feel - ingof satisfaction with which they saw first thecoloneland then the band file off the road, indicating that the halting place had been reached. A cheer started at the head of the column and the whole regiment joined in a wild shout of joy. The most desirable spots for camping were already occupied, and the 200th was obliged to content itself with a cornfield. Unfortunately the rain began to fall just as it broke ranks. It was not a hard rain, but one of those exasperating drizzles so destructive to the Christian vir- tues. When it had to rain — and the frequency of the storms seemed wholly unnecessary — the soldier \\rould rather have it pour down while it was about it and then quit, than to endure one of those protracted seasons when the water oozed slowly from the low-hanging clouds, and dribbled down, filling the air with a heavy mist that made everything cold and vi^et and clammj^ Possibly the human race may have been in some degree regenerated since the war, but at that time there were few men living — and they all stayed at home — who could pass through a day or two of such experience and not lose control ol tongue and temper. The members of the 200th Indiana were indeed in a sorry plight. They were without shelter, as their tents had not FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH "RED TAPE." 67 yet arrived. They could only stand around, with their heads sticking through their ponchos, churning the soft earth into mud with their restless feet. This dismal and unlooked for visitation had a most depressing effect upon their spirits. Their mental condition was in marked con- trast to the revelry of the previous night. Most of them looked as if they would like to take the next train for In- diana, if the matter of return tickets had not been entirely' overlooked. There was a great deal of justifiable grumbling because tents were not awaiting the regiment upon its arrival, as its coming was known. Such a thing, however, never oc- curred during the war. It was unheard of and unthought of, except by the soldiers who happened to be caught as was the 200th Indiana. A great many things might have been but were not, on account of the kinks in the red-tape in which every department of the army was tangled. So a thousand men, wet and disconsolate, had to wait while the colonel and quartermaster galloped back to town after tents. They w^ent straight to headquarters and made application for them, but were prompth' informed that business was not done in that way. A requisition must be made in due form, according to regulations, and must be approved by the various intermediate commanders — ^brigade, division, corps and army. In vain the Colonel stormed, and declared it was an outrage to keep his men, who were not used to such things, standing out in the rain while that performance was being gone through with. He wanted the tents and v^'ould furnish the papers after- ward. But the laws of war had no elasticity, and the colonel and quartermaster were obliged to go back and start in at the bottom. It took them two hours to get around. The regiment had no wagons yet, and the head quartermaster did consent to send a couple of teams out to the camp with the tents. Meanwhile, the men of the 200th had been sloshing 68 A SLOPPY TIME. about in a deplorable state of mind and body. It was a rude awakening from their dreams to the stern reality of "soldiering." "Are we goin' ter have very much o' this kind o' thing?" asked Si, as he stood with the water slowly trickling from the rim of his hat and the corners of his poncho, while drops just ready to fall hung from his nose and chin. "Wall, I can't 'zactly tell," replied Shorty. "There's all kinds o' weather, 'n' a good deal on it down 'n this kentry. I can't think o' nothin' we kin do 'bout it, 'n' I reck'n we'll have to let 'er rain 's long 'n' 's of 'n 's she wants ter." "I s'pose that's so; but seems ter me 't ef I was a-runnin' this war I'd have things a leetle diff 'runt when 'the rijiments comes in. / 1 don't see no use 'n keepin' us fellers stan'- in' 'round here all day half way to our knees 'n mud 'n' gittin' wuss every mmit." " Si," said Shorty, " ye'll larn arter a while. Course, this 'ere 's a damp shame, but it's jest the way they alius does things 'n the arm3\ But tlier' ain't no good gittin' cranky, 'cause 3'e can't help ^erself. Ef ye'd hired out to work fer a man to home 'n' he didn't treat ye squar', ye could jest up 'n' quit, but ther' ain't no gittin' out o' this. They've got jq dead to rights!" "Who said anything 'bout wantin' ter quit?" exclaimed A BAPTISM. A DEMAND FOR "PLUCK," 69 Si, piqued a little at Shorty's implied insinuation that he was deficient in staying qualities. "Mebbe I'm younger 'n some o' the soljers, but I ain't no baby. I kin stan' jest 's much 's the next tin." Shorty hastened to assure him that he had no intention of casting slurs upon him. "I b'lieve ye've got grit," he said. "I don't know whether Vyc got 'nough myself ter last me through, but I like ter see it 'n somebody else." This smoothed Si's ruffled feelings, and put him at once into as good a humor as was possible under such doleful conditions. He summoned to his aid all the "pluck" he could command, determined to show his comrade that he could and would face like a brave soldier whatever might come. The slight pricking that Shorty gave him was just what he needed. He had nailed his colors to the mast, so to speak, and the^' were going to stay there. Under the spur of his resolute will he became cheerful, and even tried a few jokes at the expense of his comrades. There was but a feeble response, however, for the dripping men of the 200th Indiana were not in a mood for jesting. What little was said was of a different character. They had had no breakfast that was worthy of the name. There was no danger of immediate starvation, as they had eaten liberally during the night, and since then the con- tents of their haversacks had sufficed to appease the mild gnawings of hunger. They were beginning to feel the need of something warming, and %vere most agreeably sur- prised when thc}^ were waited upon by a delegation from the regiments oi a veteran brigade encamped near by, in- viting them over to have some coffee. "We've been thar, boys," the^- said, "an' we know jest how ye feel. 'Tain't a bit funny. W^e can't give ye no fancy lay-out, but we've made a lot o' hot coffee fer ye, an' that'll feel good to yer insides. Ye're \velcome to the best we kin give ye." "Si," said Shorty, "how's that fer a invite? What'd I 70 TIMELY HOSPITALITY tell ye 'bout them soljers? These 's some o' the same fel- lers as was liootin' 'n' yellin' at us 's we come up the road. I told ye they didn't mean nothin'. They'd jest turn their- selves inside out ter do an3'thing fer them that's sufferin' 'n' needin' help. They don't draw no more coffee 'n they want, 'n' they'll have ter go 'thout it one meal on 'count o' what they're a-doin' fer us. The vet'rans is a hard lookin' lot, but 3-e kin tie to 'em. Si." The hospitable invitation was accepted with alacrity, and with a profusion of thanks that came from the inner- most recesses ot those drooping hearts. The companies v^'cre formed and marched to the neighboring camp, two or three to each of the regiments, and were cordially wel- comed by the very soldiers who had jeered them without mercy two hours before. Shorty had not over-stated the case. Beneath those ragged blouses were big hearts full to the brim with the "milk of human kindness." The guests were scattered through the camp and invited into the tents in little squads, where they laid off" their wet ponchos. "We hain't got no cheers," said one of the hosts, as Si and Shorty and two or three others entered one of the tents. " Thar's a cracker box a couple of 3'e kin sit on, an' the rest cf ye '11 have ter git down tailor-fashion on these 'ere blankets." The dispositions were quickly made and tin cups full of steaming coffee were brought in. The odor was sweeter than incense to the nostrils of those Hoosiers. "Here's plenty o' sugar," said one of the veterans. ■'This 'mess' is a little short o' spoons; there 's only one an' ye'll have to pass it 'long — that's the way we does. The cows hain't come up yet, an' we hain't got no milk fer ye. Want some hardtack ?" "What's it like?" asked Si. "Oh, that's the stuff we gits fer bread," replied the veteran. "I s'pose 3'e hain't struck any on it A^et. Hard- AND WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT. 71 tack tastes mighty good sometimes, but it's when a feller's reel hungry an' hain't got nothin' else to eat. If ye've got any soft bread in yer haversacks, I reck'n that'll taste better to ye jest now." The boys had plenty of bread, and the excellent coffee was most refreshing. "Purt}^ tough beginnin' fer ye, boj^s, " said one of their HOSPITALITY. entertainers, "but ye've got to git broke in, same's all on us had to. We don't mind it now, 'cause Ave've got used to it. Ye're stan'in' it bully, bein' its the fust time, an' if ye stick to it 3"e'll make soljers arter a while." Si did not quite like the intimation that he was not a soldier already. He was certain, at least, that he would be one as soon as he had a sfuii on his shoulder and a car- 72 PITCHING TEXTS. tridge-box buckled around his waist. He did notyetrealize the difference there was between a recruit and a soldier, and the long and severe process that was necessary to com- plete the transformation. His first impulse was to argue" the question, but a wink from Shorty, who seemed to di- vine his thoughts, told him that he had better hold his peace. The members of the 200th Indiana were profoundly grate- ful to the veterans for their kindness, and expressed the hope that they might sometime have the opportunity to pay the debt. They had a vastly better opinion of the old soldiers than they formed two hours before when receiving the volleys of taunts and gibes. Soon after their return to their own camping-ground the wagons with the tents arrived, under convoy of the colonel and quartermaster. The camp was hastily laid out and all hands fell to with a will. Not a quarter of the men had ever seen a tent before that day, and ver^^ few knew anything about "pitching" one. But they all thought that was easy enough. They hadn't anything to drive stakes with, but they borrowed axes and hatchets from their neighbors and were soon pounding away with great energy. They were not long in finding out that a good many things are easy — after you have learned how to do them. Even the pitching of a tent required at least a limited amount of knowledge and experience. They were directed to place them in straight rows, by companies, but they got them up askew and "every which way." The "flaps" at the front perversely refused to come together, leaving great yaw^ning gaps, making it impossible to "shut the door." The boys gladly accepted a few suggestions from some of the veterans who came over and stood around, first exhausting their stock of jokes on the new men, and then taking hold in the kindest possible way and showing tiiem how to do it. Wilh the tents up the camp assumed a rather more cheer- A POOR SHOW FOR COMFORT. 7:i fill aspect. It would be more nearly correct to say that it was a little less miserable, for the two conditions were only comparative degrees of woe. The prospect for the night was dismal enough. " Now, men," said the captain, encouragingh', " get divided off, one 'mess ' for each tent, and make yourselves as comfortable as you can." And then the captain went to the surgeon and told him he didn't feel verj- well, got an excuse to go into town, and stayed all night at a hotel. "'Pearsterme, Shorty, we're in 'bout 's bad a 'mess' now '5 we kin gi*^^!" said Si, as he looked despairingly down at his legs, wdiichwere elaborately frescoed with that red clay mud so peculiar to the South and as adhesive as patent glue. The order of the captain to "make themselves comfort- tible" had but little meaning to the men of Company 0. It seemed a very preposterous thing to talk of manufac- turing "comfort," when so destitute of the necessary t^lements. As yet the word conve^'cd to them no other idea than a well spread table, a rocking-chair before a blazing hearth, and a good bed to sleep in. There was absolutely nothing in sight, not under guard, that could give them relief in their extremity. Boards, fails, limbs of trees — anything on which to spread their blankets would have been hailed as a favorable dispensa- tion of providence, but the last vestige of available material had long since disappeared among the thousands of soldiers in the densely populated camps. A crow^ might have scanned that field in vain for material with which to build a nest. There were barns and outbuildings and fences in the vicin- ity', but bristling bayonets warned off all who sought to lay violent hands upon them. They were as tempting to those gloomy-hearted Hoosiers as was the forbidden fruit to the ancestral pair in the Garden of Eden — and the\^ were a great deal more securely protected. The destructive /4 TTTE RAIL-GUARDING POLICY. propensity, which seemed to be an instinct in the bieast of the soldier, showed itseU' at the very outset in the 200th Indiana, and foreshadowed great activity in this direction whenever the restraint should be removed. As the murky twilight began to deepen they would have torn down half the city, if they had been turned loose, and used the debris to keep themselves out of the mud. But the time for this had not yet come. The truth is that the soldiers fully adopted the confisca- tion theory long before the statesmen and the generals did, though not permitted by the latter to carry out their eminently practical ideas of how to conduct a campaign. But the boys planted their flags there, and after a while the lawgivers and the men with stars twinkling on their shoulders " dressed up" to the line in fine style. Aftes try- ing it for about two years the beautiful theory of carry- ing on a war without hiu'ting anybody — in pocket — was abandoned. The field occupied b}- the 200th was surrounded by a rail fence. More properly speaking, it had been so sur- rounded before the war. Whatever value for other pur- poses there might be in the few scattering rails that stretched around the camp, as a fence they were no longer of any account. Nor did it seem at all likely that any fence would be needed there while the war lasted. When the flame of the guns at Sumter lighted up the heavens with its lurid glare, about the first thing the government did was to place a guard over that sacred fence, and it had been kept up ever since. Judging from the faithfulness with which the sentinels paced their beats around that field, successively' relieving one another through all the weeks and months, the protection of those rails — that no soldier might lay them down to sleep on, or make fires of them to cook his coffee and bean-soup — seemed to be the chief pur- pose for which the arm\' w^as sent down there. The con- dition of the fence at this time ofave abundant evidence of A GLOOMY OUTLOOK. 75 the fact that the vigilance of the guards had not been vvhollv successful in preventing depredations. Numerous forays on dark nights, the moment of attack being when a guard was at a remote point on his beat, had resulted in a slow but sure process of dissolution. But still the men in blue trudged to and fro, by day and by night, over the well-worn path, with the same orders that were dinned into the astonished ears of the first men who were stationed to guard it: "If any man attempts to take a rail from that fence, shoot him on the spot !" By the time the 200th Indiana moved away, there were no rails left to speak of; but in the absence of any testimony on the subject it is safe to say that from sheer force of habit the guard \vas kept up along the line where that fence was until Lee surren- dered at Appomattox. "Purty hard place ter sleep, ain't it, Shortj^?" said Si, as he stood within the tent, surveying the muddy ground and calculating the chances on getting a night's rest. "Purty soft, ye mean, don't ye?" replied Shorty. Si laughed, more at the thought of a jest from such an unexpected source than from the brillianc}^ of the joke itself "Ther' ain't no diflf'rence," he said, "we're both drivin' *t the same idee. What 'd mother 'n' sister Marier say 'f they c'd see whar we've got ter lay down, 'nless we stan' up to 't all night, 'n' I d'no but that's the best way out o' the scrape. Even Dad's hogs 's better off ner we be, fer they kin git out o' the mud 'f they wants ter, 'n' that's mor'n w^e c'n do!" In making up the "messes" these two had naturally entered the same tent, and drawn by a mutual attraction they had "paired." With rare exceptions every soldier had his "pard." New troops on taking the field and adjusting themselves to the peculiar situations of army life, mated as naturally as birds in springtime. The longer +hey remained in the service the 76 THE SOLDIER A.ND HIS "PARD." more did tliej appreciate the convenience of this arrange- ment. During the arduous campaigns two constituted a family, eating and sleeping together. They "pooled" their rations and made an equitable division of labor. On the march, if a patch of sweet potatoes, a field of "roasting ears," oi an orchard in fruit was reached, one would carry the gun of his comrade while the latter would lay in a sup- ply of forage for their evening meal, and then hasten for- ward to his place in the column. On going into camp one w^ould look for straw while the other went on a hunt for a chicken or a piece of fresh pork. Then while one filled the canteens at the spring or stream, the other gathered wood and made a fire. All became prime cooks, and this part of the work was shared. If it was to be a "regulation" meal, one superintended the coffee, pounding up the roasted grains in a tin cup or can with the butt of his bayonet while the water was coming to a boil, and the other fried or toasted the bacon. If either w^as detailed for guard or fatigue duty, he knew that the wants of his inner man would be provided for, and his portion of any choice morsel would be scrupulously saved for him. If one was ill or worse "played out" than the other after a toilsome march, his companion cared for him with all the tenderness of a brother. If one was imposed upon by quarrelsome comrades he could always safely de- pend upon his "pard " to stand by him to the last extrem- ity. A.t night they lay together upon one blanket with the other as a cover. It is not probable that Solomon ever snuggled up to his ' ' pard ' ' under a ' ' pup ' ' tent ; but he seems to have had the corre6l idea when he wrote (Ecclesi- astes IV : 11) : "Again, if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be w^arm alone?" There were many times w'hen they hugged each other like two pieces of sticking-plaster, in the vain effort to generate heat enough for even a measurable degree of comfort. When tw o congenial spirits were thus brought together nothing VARIOUS CAUSES OF FRICTION. 77 but death or a separation at the call of duty could sever the ties that bound them. It will not be thought strange that many, after "living together" for a few days or weeks, found themselves mis- mated. In fact it was about as much of a lottery as get- ting married is popularly believed to be; and divorces w^ere as frequent as in the hymeneal experience of mankind. A fruitful source of domestic eruptions was the develop- ment and gradual growth of a disposition on the part of one member of the firm to "play off" on his more energetic comrade, and shirk his part of the labor so indispen- sable to their welfare. The soldier was constitutionally lazy, so far as the performance of irksome toil was con- cerned. This was considered proper and right when ap- plied to general fatigue duty, but when a man was too lazy to help get his own dinner or go foraging for sweet potatoes, he placed himself outside the pale of Christian forbearance. Then his "pard" went back on him, and sometimes a riot occurred that aroused the whole camp. The upshot of it all was that the " drone " was left to shift for himself, while the industrious bee, finding it easier to provide for one than for two, buzzed around until he could pick up a more congenial mate. Incompatibility of temper broke up many of these hastily formed partnerships. Sometimes the appetites were not evenly balanced, and in times of scarcity one ate more than his share of the common stock of rations. Then there was trouble, and plenty of it. These and other causes often disturbed for a time the harmony of intimate association, and it generally took about a year to get the '• pards " properly adjusted. The ravages of disease and the deadly missiles of battle made sad havoc with these ties of brotherhood. Few be- reavements are more keenly felt than were those among the comrades of months and years. Fere and there, in every companj^ flock, was a black sheep 78 A CASE IN POINT. who seemed to be a misfit everywhere. Nobody paired with him, and — perhaps as much fromi his own choice as from the fact that he seemed to have no "affinity" — he hved hke a crusty old bachelor in civil life. He made his own fire, boiled his coffee in a kettleholding just enough for one, and ate his meal alone. Then he rolled himself up in his blanket like a mummy and lay down, having, at least, the satisfaction of knowing that no bed-fellow would kick the cover off in the night and expose him to the copious and chilling dews. In the company to which the writer belonged there was alittle fellow of Teutonic birth, who had a snore that was like the sound of a fish-horn. When he was asleep it was never silent. He would begin to tune up his bazoo as soon as he closed his eyes, and by the time he was fairly asleep it would be at full blast. Enough imprecations to sink a ship were nightly heaped upon that unfortunate youth. Sometimes the boys made it so warm for him that he w^ould get up in high dudgeon, seize his blanket, and go off back of the camp and crawl into a wagon. Then when he got to snoring again it would set all the mules to bray- ing. Once w^hen the company was sent, at night, to oc- cupy a position near the enemy, and silence was a necessity, this man was actually left behind as a prudential measure. It was feared he would go to sleep and his snoring would convey intelligence to the enemy. But he snored his way through the war to the very end. In all the hard fighting only one bullet ever touched him — and that did not in the slightest degree impair his snoring machinery. Of course he never had a "pard." A chap tried it the first night in camp, but half an hour after they lay down he got up in a rage and left the Dutchman's "bed and board" forever. "Si," said Shorty, as if an idea had struck him with unusual force, "come 'long 'th me!" "What fer?" asked Si. THE VOICE OF THE TEMPTER. 79 "Never you mind," was the reply; "jest foller me 'n' don't say nothin' ter nobody !" Si did as he was bidden, for he was already learning to pin his faith to his companion. When they had passed outside the rows of tents. Shorty unfolded his scheme. "Ther' ain't no use lyin' 'n the mud," he said, " 'n' them rails out thar rottin'." "Why, Shorty," exclaimed Si, astonished at so flagrant a violation of orders, "ye know what they told us; 'n' them fellers 's out thar 'th their bay 'nets ! I don't want ter have none o' them things punched into me jest yet; I want ter see suthin' more o' this war!" "Bay'nets be blowed!" said Short}'. "I ain't goin' ter git you inter no scrape, so don't ye be 'feard. You stand whar I tell je 'n' I'll fotch ye some o' them rails, sure's yer bom." Si promised to obey, with a dubious hope that it would all come out right. He took his position at a safe distance from the fence, though not without some smitings of con- science. He felt very much as he did once when, beguiled at night into a neighbor's melon-patch, he trembled with fear lest the old man should turn loose the dogs. The darkness favored Shorty's foray. Creeping care- fully up he saw the sentinel face about at the end of his beat and start in the opposite direction. Two or three minutes later Shorty darted up to the fence, seized acouple of rails, bore them back and delivered them to Si. "Now waitt'll I get 'notlier load," he said. "Won't these do?" asked Si. "I don't like ter have ye try it agin. I'm 'feard they'll cotch 3^e!" "We can't sleep on one rail apiece. I'll be back 'n a minit!" In an instant he had disappeared. Si stood breathlessly awaiting his return. Shorty slipped a figure in his calcu- lation this time, and as he was lifting the rails to his shoulder he was confronted bv the guard. 80 FALLING BACK IN DISORDER. Now the truth is the guard did not care how many rails were taken. He did not want to see what might be going on, for it was not unhkely that the next night, if it was dark and he was not on duty, he would be doing the same thing himself. But when he came suddenly upon Shorty in the very act he could not let him pass unnoticed. Shorty, with a grip on the rails, bounded off into the darkness. "Halt, there! Halt, or I'll blow ye into the middle o' next week!" Si heard the awful words, followed hj the ominous click of the gun lock. He sank up- on the ground all in a heap, quaking with fear. "0-o-oh, Sh-sh-shor- ty ! " he exclaimed in a :; hoarse whisper, as his comrade came dashing up- _ "Git up, Si, quick: % Grab yer rails 'n' run. Don't lie thar 'n' let 'im stab ye er plug a hole through 3'^er liver ! ' ' In frantic despera- tion Si seized the rails. Shorty led the way some dis- tance off at a right angle from the line leading to the camp. "Thar, now, git down 's low 's ye kin!" said Shorty. " It'll be only a chance 'f the pesky guard finds us here, 'n' ef he does, all we kin do is ter take the consekences. I don't b'lieve he'll shute anybody." The sentinel tramped around a few minutes in the dark- STEALLNG A BED. A POOR SUBSTITUTE FOR FEATHERS. 81 ness and then, glad that the raiders had escaped, turned to his beat. "Thar it's all right," said Shorty, " 3'e mustn't git scai't at a little thing like that. Now let's go in." Si was too frightened yet to talk. He once more shoul- dered his rails and followed his comrade to the camp. Just outside the outermost row of tents they threw them down and Si stayed with them while Shorty hunted up an axe. He chopped them in two and the\' carried the pieces in triumph to their tent. Si and Shorty laid down the rails, spread their blankets upon them, placed theirknapsacks for pillows, and stretched themselves out. It was a hard bed. Si's bones were well cushioned with flesh, but the sharp corners of the rails made great furrows in his body. "Shorty," said Si, after they had lain quiet for a few minutes, "what '11 the ossifers do to us 'f they finds these 'ere rails 'n our tent ?" "Don't let that worry ye," replied Short}', "we'll jest keep 'em kivered wi' the blankets, t'U we gits a chance ter burn 'em tip!" Just before dark several wagon loads of green oak logs had been dumped at various points through the camp. After long effort, that exhausted the patience of several successive "reliefs," a few feeble fires were started. Around these, wet and shivering and blinded by the smoke, the disconsolate men of the 200th Indiana crowded and elbowed one another. Patriotism was at zero. CHAPTER VL Si is Armkd and Eoiipphd for Active PIosTiLirins — The Bavonf v J"\ Factor in War. ii"\ ^ /"ALL, Si, how d'ye feel?" said Shorty to his \ V comrade, as they got up at an early hour next nioniing. "Fust rate," was the cheery answer. "But I '11 tell ye what 'tis, pard, I don't hanker much arter that kind o' bed-slats 'ii' no matrus ter put on 'em. I never did like ter git up 'n the mornin' to hum, but you kin depend on me fer a early riser 's long 's I sleep on sich a bed 's that." And Si rubbed his legs and moved about briskly to limber up his stiffened joints. When company Q fell in for roll-call, the men looked as if they had just been to a funeral in the capacity of chief mourners. Most of them had scarceh' slept at all, but had spent the long hours of the night that they thought would never end, in hovering around the smoking fires. The sun rose bright, and the genial warmth of his rays gradually dispelled the gloom that had settled over the camp. It was a busy day. Wagons arrived loaded with rations, which were promptly issued to the various companies. There was an abundance of the articles that went to make up the nourishing regulation menu, except that soft bread was furnished in lieu of "hardtack." There seemed to be a humane desire to let the bo^^s down to bed-rock by easy stages. Si felt a lively personal interest in the commissary de- 82 THE CAMP-KETTLE. 83 partment, to which he must look for his daily bread. He volunteered to help unload the wagons, and as he saw the seemingly bountiful supplies of bread, bacon, sugar, coffee, beans, etc., a quiet joy filled his heart. "Shortv,"lie said, "this don't look much like starvin' the soljers. I'll do jest anything Uncle Sam wants me ter 's long 's he gives me 'nough ter eat." Then other wagons came with a supply of camp-equip age — axes, shovels, camp-kettles and other articles neces- sary to a company outfit. The word "necessary" is here used because all these things were so considered at that time. The camp-kettle, as indicated by its name, was a good and useful article of furniture when the troops were lying in camp, but did not figure largely in the long, active campaigns of the later years of the war. It was chiefly used for making coffee and bean soup, and for laundry purposes — for the soldiers had to boil their clothes the same as their mothers and sisters did the family wash, though for a different reason, which will appear in due time. The camp-kettle was an odd looking affair, of heavy sheet-iron, very tall, and of the same diameter from top to bottom. All were of the same height, but there were three or four sizes of them, so that they could be conveniently "nested " for transportation. They rapidly fell victims to the casualties of active service. Like everything else the sol- diers used or wore, they were "made by contract." Some of them soon became leaky from causes known only to the men who made them. The idea seemed to be paramount in the minds of those self-sacrificing patriots who helped to save the country by supplying the army with camp-kettles and other things, that if they made them so that they would not last long, there would be a speed}' demand for more, and this would make business brisk. Other camp- kettles had their usefulness impaired by various accidents to which thev were liable. Wag^ons ran over them, and the bovs, 84 ^ ARMS AND AMMUNITION. in their mirthful moods, kicked them about the camp. On the whole, the camp-kettles had a hard time of it. During the last 3^eai of the war thousands of the soldiers did not so much as see one for months together. A little ingenuity and activity in foraging supplied substitutes that an- swered every purpose. Then came the event of the day. Half a dozen wagons drew up to the camp and the detail of men began to unload long heavy boxes that looked as if they were made to enclose coffins — an appearance not wholly inappropriate. They contained bright, new Springfield muskets for the 200th Indiana. This arrival was greeted with an outburst of cheers, for the men were painfully conscious that as yet they were soldiers only in name. Without arms they did not amount to "a row of pins." More big boxes were tumbled out of the wagons. These contained the cartridge-boxes, waist and shoulder belts, cap-boxes, and other "traps" that went to make up the longlist of accouterments. One of the wagons was loaded with small boxes of about the capacity of a half-bushel measure. Si sprang forward to toss them out, but when he took hold of one he found it was as much as he could do to lift it. It fairly made his bones creak as he lowered it to the ground. It w^as full of ammunition — cartridges ready for use. Things now began to look like business, and the men moved about with the utmost eagerness. Rumors flew through the camp that the rebel army was close at hand and a conflict was hourly expezted. The members of the 200th Indiana felt that if the impending battle could only bestavedoffvmtil they should get their guns and fill up their ' 'pill-boxes" it would be all right. There could no longer be any doubt as to the result, and the band might at once begin to play. When Company Q's turn came it was marched up to headquarters, and in a few minutes each man was the WHY THE OFf'ICERS OF '61 WEPT. 85 happy possessor of a brightly burnished musket and bay- onet, and all the accessories needful to complete his war- like array, including forty rounds of ammunition. To the regiment forty thousand cartridges were issued — enough to destroy the entire opposing army, provided they all went to the right spot. Little wonder that these valiant new soldiers believed that the end was now near at hand. The colonel superintended the distribution of the arms, and noted with pride the eagerness with which his men grasped their muskets and accouterments. He had no doubt that they would manifest equal promptitude in using them Avhen occasion required, and there passed before him visions of the glory that would cause the name of the 200th Indiana to shine with conspicuous luster. The captain of Company had to sign a receipt for the arms and equipments issued to his men, as he did for the tents and everything appertaining to the company's out fit. The officers who went out in '62 were wiser in their generation than those who took the field the year be- fore. They had the benefit of the latter's experience. It was on this wise: It was decreed in the "Revised Arm} Regulations" — a big blue-covered book, impressiveh' let- tered, that Avas both law and gospel to all who entered the army in any capacity — that the commanding officer of a company should, under all circumstances, be held strictly responsible for every penny's worth of government prop- erty in the possession of his men. Monthly returns of clothing and "camp and garrison equipage," as it was called in a lump, and quarterly returns of ordnance and ordnance stores had to be made to the Grand Moguls at Washington. In these returns ever^^thing in the wa}^ of baggage, down to a hatchet or a tent-pin, had to be ac- counted for, as well as every article in the line of ordnance, from a musket to a belt-plate. Even the tompions — tiny wooden plugs to stick into the muzzles of the guns and keep out the dust and rain, worth about two-for-a-cent— 86 STRAINING AT GNATS. had to be momentously entered in the long columns en tlT;ir knapsacks and SI LEARNS SLOWLY. 159 flung a\vay a book or an album, or an extra garment, choosing such articles as could best be spared. The sacri- fice was not made without a twinge of regret, for all had their cherished keepsakes — affection s gods, that they well- nigh worshiped for the sake of the loving hands that fash- ioned them. Short}' was lean in flesh and in baggage, and in good shape for traveling. Although he had shared in the gen- eral fetigue and was glad enough to rest with the others, the march thus far was to him but a pleasant exercise as compared with what it had been to those who staggered beneath their burdens. While the reducing process was going on he looked at Si to see whether he was yet learn- ing the wisdom that in time came to every soldier. Some did not learn it as soon as others. " Goin' ter try it 'nother heat, ar ye Si ? " he said, observ- ing that the latter gave no sign of casting off any of the weight that encumbered hiin. "Course I am," he replied, cheerfully, "I feel 's fine 's a fiddle now 't I've rested a bit n' had a chance ter git up steam. 'Tain't goin' ter be so hard when a feller gits broke in!" "It's the breakin' in 't hurts," said Shorty. "I s'pose ye've heern tell o' the hoss 't was fed on sawdust. Jest as he was gittin' used to it he up 'n' died. I sh'd be sorry ter have it work that way with you. Si." At the call the soldiers fell in and resumed the march. Si was quick to obey, feeling greatly refreshed by his five minutes of rest. He started off ver}^ courageoush^ whis- tling " Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean," and keepingtime to the music. But he did not whistle a great while. He did not feel like it, much as he tried to make himself think he did. Hotter and hotter beat down the sun's rays as it mounted to the zenith. In streams more copious flowed the perspiration that oozed from every pore. The air was thick with dust from the countless feet of men and horses 160 THE MADDENING BLISTERS. that had gone before. It gathered upon Sis face; it per- meated his clothes and w^as ground into the skin under the straps and belts that bound him. At every step his knap- sack grew heavier. His heated, sweating back smarted under the pressure. Lower down his cartridge-box, with its leaden load, bobbed up and down with every footfall, chafing and grinding until that particular spot felt as if in contact with a red-hot iron. His canteen and haver- sack rubbed the skin off his hips ; thebunches of cartridges in his pockets scraped his legs ; and his musket lay like a section of railroad iron upon his shoulder. Then a new trouble came to Si, as though he had not enough already. He was young and tender — a sort of "spring chicken," so tospeak. There was a sharp, smart- ing sensation at different points on his feet ; it did not take long to blister such soft feet as he had. The\^ felt as if somebody had poured scalding water on them, and was rubbing on salt and pepper and horse-radish, varying the treatment by thrusting in a dozen needles. What a keen, maddening pain it was! How it thrilled ever}^ nerve, as the rough shoes tore off the tender skin ; and the great load of knapsack and cartridge-box and gun pressing the needles farther in at ever}'- step ! There are not many things in this world of sorro\v more utterly and wildly exasperating than tramping with blis- tered feet on a hot day, carrying a big knapsack. A blister is not always as large as a barn-door, but for stirring up all the latent depravity of a bo\^'s heart, it has few suc- cessful rivals. Si began to limp, and, in spite of his efforts to prevent it, an expression of pain now and then escaped his lips. Still he kept up in his place, strong in his determination not to straggle. His efforts may have been somewhat stimulated by a blood-curdling rumor, which started at one end of the regiment and quickly ran its entire length, thai a body of rebel cavalry was following leisurely along COMES TO IT AT LAST. 161 at the tail of the column, massacring all the stragglers. But the tax that he had imposed upon his physical forces was too great. The spirit indeed was willing but the flesh was weak. "Shorty," he said to his comrade, "I wonder how fur we've got ter hoof it to-day; did ye hear?" "Som.e o' the ossifers wassayin' this mornin' we'd have ter make twenty mile 'fore we'd camp, 'n' we mout have ter keep right on all night." "Seems ter me," said Si, groaning inwardly at the pros- pect, "we've traveled much 's twenty mile a-ready, hain't we?" " Skurcely, " replied Shorty. "I'm sorry fer ye, pard, but we hain't come more 'n five er six mile yit." Shorty saw that Si was rapidly approaching the point where he would break down. His sympathies were aroused in his comrade's behalf. "Si," he said, "lemme carry yer gun a piece ; that'll ease ye up a leetle bit!" "'Bleegedto ye. Shorty" he replied, "but I guess I c'n pull through. Ye've got all ye want ter tote." But when Shorty reached up and relieved him of his musket he yielded without objection. At the next halt Si told Shorty that he had made up his mind to take his ad- vice and lighten his load. "I knew ye'd have ter come to it," said Shorty, " cause ye ain't no mule 'n' ye can't stand it. There's lots o' them things ye don't need, 'n' ye'll git 'long a heap better 'thout 'em when ve're marchin'. I know ve hate ter fline 'em away, 'n' I think all the more of ye 'cause j-e've got sich feelin's, but if 3-er mother 'n'yer sister 'n' all the rest on 'em had knowed how it 'd be they wouldn't ha' guv 'em to jq to load ye down. It's got ter be did, Si." Shorty's logic was unanswerable. Si's blistered feet and aching limbs and smarting shoulders told him, even more plainly than his comrade's words, that the sacrifice was 162 SENTIMENT AT A DISCOUNT. inevitable. He first tossed his hatchet over the fence. Then his clothes-brush and shoe-brush went ; true they did not weigh much, but every ounce would help. His frying- pan and coffee-pot he decided to be necessities. Opening his knapsack he held a melancholy inquest upon its con tents. The hymn-book he speedily dis230sed of without carrying out his intention of bestowirg it upon a wicked cavalryman. The "Pilgrim's Progress" quickly followed. It was as much as he could do to look after his own progress as a pilgrim. He threw away the cakes of fancy soap and his sister's pin -cushion, after sticking half a dozen pins in his blouse. He discard- ed the photograph album, first taking out the pictures and putting them in his pocket. Some of the nice articles of cloth- ing he flung upon ^i the ground. As the weather w^as then, he did not feel that he THE SHRINKAGE BEGINS. W^OUld CVCr W aut them. He looked at his big roll of blankets and decided that an advantageous reduction coiild there be made. His first plan was to abandon his blankets and keep the pretty quilt he had brought from home. "Don't do that," said Shorty. "Ye'll be sorry 'f ye do. Thcr' ain't nothin' so good "s an army blanket. I know ye don't like to heave away that quilt, but you jest let 'er slide/ ' GATHERING UP THE DEBRIS. 163 Si was coming to have a good deal of confidence in Shorty's judgment, and it was settled that the broad ex- panse of beautiful patchwork, on which his mother had spent so many hours of toil, would have to go. People who lived along the line of march followed the moving army for miles, gathering up the things that the new soldiers threw away. Men, women and children loaded themselves with quilts, clothing and articles of every description. A happy thought entered Si's head. Drawing out the big knife that his Sunday school teacher gave him, he began to slash the quilt into strips. "What ye up ter now ? " asked Shorty in surprise. "I tell ye what 'tis, Shorty,'' was the reply, "ef I can't have any good o' this kiver ther' ain't no secesh goin' ter sleep under it," and he continued the work of destruction. By the same process the home blanket was disposed of. Shorty told him to keep only his overcoat and the blanket furnished him by the quartermaster, and he concluded that Shorty knew better than he did. Si had learned his first practical lesson in making him- self a soldier. It had come to him through much pain and tribulation. Two or three million other men were taught by the same educator — Experience. Precepts and theories went for naught. The shrinkage of the knapsack was the first symptom of the transformation that changed the raw recruit into an effective soldier, ready at any moment for a fight or a foot-race CHAPTER XII. Si Finishes the Day's March, Nurses his Blisters, and is Detah^ed TO Help put up the Colonel's Temt. AT the call to resume the march Si jumped nimbly to his feet, notwithstanding the general stiffness of his joints and the large and varied assortment of aches and pains that darted and dodged through every part of him. With renewed confidence he slung his knapsack, which had been very materially lightened. But it was a big knap- sack yet, and destined to be flattened a good deal more in the near future. It was not clear to Si how any further reduction was possible; and indeed, as he started off again he experienced such relief that not a lingering doubt re- mained in his mind that he could now go as far and as fast as any man in the army. The blisters on his feet, which at once became lively, were his greatest cause of grief. The old ones remained as vig- orous as ever, and new ones were constantly forming on sole and toe and ankle. "Ouch!" This was the laconic observation that Si involuntarily made every now and then, in a voice of agony. Whenever he said this his companions in misery knew that another blister had "busted," as they expressed it. How his nerves tingled with the sharp pain ! But on and on tramps the remorseless column. The army cannot pause for aching limbs to rest and blistered feet to heal. 164 si's mental processes. 165 The knapsack bears down again tipon Si's chafed and smarting shoulders. It seems heavier than before, and with each mile grows heavier still. How glad he would be if he could pitch it into a fence corner and leave it there. He wonders if he could possibly get along without it. But no, this cannot be seriously thought of^at least not yet. So he braces himself up and plods along his weary way. Thoughts of home — he can't help it — that he left scarcely more than a week ago flit through his mind. Mother, father, sister — and Annabel, he knows thc}^ are all thinking and talking about him and v.'ondering how he fares. How glad he is that they cannot see him now. How their hearts would bleed for him if they knew. But Si was not going to be one of the many poor boys who actually died in the army from "homesickness." Dash- ing the sleeve of his blouse across his eyes to brush away — perhaps it was only perspiration, he banished the haunt- ing thoughts. ''Now, Si," he said to himself as he trudged on, "ye ain't goin' ter make a fool o' yerself. It 'd be jest heaven 'f ye c'd lie down with yer head on yer mother's knee, 'n' have her soft handstrokin' yer hair, but ye can'thave that now 'n' ther' ain't no use worryin' yerself 'bout it. Ye're goin' ter be a soljer, 'n' a good 'un' too, but ye want ter fergit fer a while 't ye've got any mother 'n' sister. Thar's Shorty, he's glad 'cause he hain't got nobodj^ 'n' I d'know but he's purty nigh right. Anyhow ye've got jest all jq c'n think 'bout 'n' 'tend to now. It's a mighty sight harder 'n ye thought, but ye're goin' ter stick to it, Si, 'n' be a man 't yer folks won't be 'shamed of" How slowdy the hours dragged, and how long were the last few miles ! Hundreds of the new soldiers dropped by the roadside, utterly unable to keep their places in the col- umn that swept on and left them. Many who in the morn- ing were in the flush of strength and vigor, lay panting and exhausted upon the ground. At every stream and lot) AT THE SPRING. Spring tlie men crowded one another for the iDlessed priv- ilege of bathing their smarting feet, and filHng their can- teens. Strict orders, with the most severe pains and pen- alties, had been given against straggling; but obedience was not within the bounds of human possibility. The THE RUSH FOR WATER. rear-guard, with fixed ba\^onets, sought to force onward those who had fallen by the wa^^ Some, at sight of the cruel steel, got upon their feet and hobbled painfully on, but to many it seemed that even death, in the face of their sufferings, had no terrors. The ambulances were full to o trerflowingr of worn and wretched men. The few wagons AFTER THE MARCH. 167 that accompanied the troops were heaped with knapsacks and muskets, of which the soldiers had been permitted by the surgeons to reHeve themselves. The clothing of the men was white with dust, and saturated with the moisture from their sweating bodies. Si was determined to keep with the colors, and he did; but he was profoundly thankful when the 200th Indiana, with scared}^ half its men in ranks, filed into a field to bivouac for the night. If all the haying and harvesting and corn-hoeing and wood-chopping that he had ever done in a whole year, could have been compressed into the hours of a single day, he could not have been more completely **used up" than he was when the regiment stacked arms and received the welcome order to "break ranks." When he unslung his knapsack and let it fall to the ground, it was like getting out from under a motmtain. And what a relief it was to lay off cartridge-box, haversack and can- teen ! Who that has not experienced it can know the rest- ful feeling that came to limb and bod}^ as he unfastened the strap and flung down the last of his accouterments ! What an unspeakable luxury to take off his shoes and throw himself upon the ground. No bed of softest down was ever half so welcome. Si began to wish that he had enlisted in a cavalry regiment, so that he could ride. Short3% for the good and sufficient reasons already given, stood the march better than most of his companions. He was, however, by no means free from aches and blisters, though his feet had more skin left on them than Si's had. It was simply the difference between carrying a big knap- sack and one that wasn't so big. After they had rested a little time, Shorty suggested that they go to the stream near by and bathe their feet. "It'll be the best kind o' medicine fer 'em," he said. "That's a goo-j idee! " said Si, "but I'm afeard I can't git down thar. I jest feel 's though I couldn't budge an inch. I'm 's sore all over 's if I'd been run through a 168 A SOVEREIGN BALM. thrashin' machine. I don't b lieve 1 could 'a' gone 'nother mile ter save my life." "I'm purty much that way myself," replied Short}^ " 'n' I know you feel a good deal wuss ner I do ; but I tell ye ther' ain't nothin' like water ter bring us 'round. Try 'n' limber up." After painful effort Si managed to get himself up "on end." Taking their shoes in their hands and treading gingerly, they slowly made their way to the creek. The banks were lined with soldiers en- joying the reviving in- fluence of the water. Si and Shorty slipped off their trousers, and oh, how delicious the cooling water felt to their chafed limbs and smarting feet ! They had but fairly begur\ to enjoy it when the ominous voice of the orderly fell upon Si's unwilling ears. The orderly sergeant in the army vras gen- erally regarded by the other non-commissioned officers and the privates as a necessarv evil, but none the less a palpable and unmiti- gated nuisance.* Next below the grade of a commissioned officer, he out- * This is not, to the writer, an abstract theory. For a year his arms were decorated with the chevrons of a first sergeant, composed of three Y stripes and a diamond, and he speaks from personal knowledge gained by abundant experience. AFTER A day's TRAMP. THE ORDERLY SERGEANT. 169 iranked all the rest of the enlisted men, so that his author- ity — unless in its exercise he transcended his legitimate functions— could not be called in question. By his superiors he was held directly responsible at all times for the condi- tion of his company and the whereabouts of its members. All must be "present or accounted for." It was his busi- ness to see that all orders were duly enforced and obeyed, to draw and issue to his company supplies of rations, clothing and ammunition, to see that the men kept their persons and their clothing clean, and their arms and tents — when they had any — in good condition, and to make all details for fatigue, guard and other duty; besides number- less minor things that no one can understand or appreciate except those who have served in that thankless and exas- perating position. It was impossible to do all this without more or less friction — generally more. There were many very brave and in every w^ay excellent soldiers who were not the em- bodiment of all the Christian virtues. Indeed, it may be safely said that the "old Adam " theory of the theologians found more ample illustration in the army than in any other sphere of active life. The circumstances \\ ere not favorable to the development of gentleness, meekness, pa- tience, long-suffering and the other beautiful adornments of human character. Exception may perhaps be taken by some of the veterans to the last of the attributes men- tioned, for it cannot be denied that there was plenty of "long suffering," if the words be given a literal inter- pretation. Upon the head of the orderly w^as poured a great deal more than his share of profanit3^ Scarcely a day passed that he was not deluged with it. If anything went Avrong with the company he caught "Hail Columbia " from the officers. When enforcing discipline and making de- tails of men for duty, particularly after fatiguing matches or on rainy days, he rarely failed to provoke the wrath 170 THE UNIVERSAL SCAPEGOAT. of those whose "turn" it happened to be. The curses and maledictions were not always loud, for prudential reasons, but they were deep and fervent. The longer the men re- mained in service the more fluent they became in the use of pungent words, making it warmer and warmer for the orderly. Swearing at him was the sovereign balm for the soldier's woes. When the hardtack was wormy, or the bacon maggoty, or the bean-soup too weak, or rations scanty ; when the weather was too hot or too cold, or it rained, or the company hod to goon picket after a hard day's tramp, or any fatigue duty had to be done; when the buttons flew off their clothes and seams ripped the first time they v^ereworn, or the shapeless "gunboats" scraped the skin from their feet; when the company had to turn out for drill, with the mercury in the nineties, and swelter and charge around capturing imaginary batteries — for all these and much more the persecuted orderly was to blame. He was ground to powder between the upper and nether millstones — the officers and the men. His life was a continual martyrdom. Then he was expected to be, himself, in every way, an example to the men worthy of their imitation — a pattern of soldierly perfection, in his bearing, his person, and "all appurtenances thereunto belonging," as the la^vyers say. The only redeeming feature in the orderly's wretched ex- istence was that he did not have to detail himself to go on guard or chop wood or load the colonel's wagon. From these the "Regulations" exempted him. "Hey, there, Mr. Klegg!" shouted the orderly of Com- pany 0. The orderlies addressed the men as "Mister" at first, but they soon got over that. "Hello!" replied Si, "what d' ye want o' me?" "Report immejitly fer fatigue duty. Go to head- quarters an' help put up the colonel's tent. Hurry on with IT WAS "PURTY TOUGH. liA yer duds an' be lively, 'cause the colonel's waitin', an' Iie'll Stan' ye on yer head if ye don't come to time !" Si's first thought was to make another issue on the ques- tion of his "turn." He was sure that all whose names preceded his on the roll had not been detailed for fatigue duty. He wondered if he was to suffer still further pun- ishment for his part in the conspiracy to have the orderly tossed in a blanket. Remembering his former experience he said nothing, but he "chalked it down" in his memory for future use. "That's purty tough, ain't it Shorty?" said Si, as he sadly drew his feet out of the w^ater and began to put on his trousers. "'Tween you 'n' me, I think it 's mighty mean, too. The colonel rid a hoss all day while we was a-trampin'. 'n' 't seems ter me 's if he mout put up his C)wn tent. He's got a nigger ter help him, too. Ef I was colonel o' this 'ere rijiment I bet ye I wouldn't make none o' the soljers that hain't got no skin left on their feet, put up my tent. I wish 't I was colonel 'n' he was Si Klegg fer jest one day so he c'd know how 't feels." "Growlin' don't do no good,'' replied his comrade. "Ihe ossifers 'n' the orderlies has all the trump keerds 'n' they takes the trick every time. Better let me go 'n yer place, Si. I ain't used up 's bad 's you. I'll be glad ter do it fer ye." "It's reel kind of ye. Shorty, but I'll do it ef I c'n make the riffle. I ain't goin' ter shirk nothin' 's long 's I c'n Stan' up. Ef I can't I can't, 'n' that's the end on 't. But I sh'd think the colonel mout git 'long 'thout any tent. The rest on us has ter, 'n' I don't see how he's any better 'n we are, jest 'cause he's got shoulder-straps 'n' we hain't !" The subtle questions of distinction between carrying a sword or a musket, between commanding and being com- manded, were too much for Si's philosophy. Nor was there time to pursue the discussion. Two minutes had Fumced for putting on his clothes and shoes, though the 172 THE VALUE OF A "PARD." latter caused him much pain and still further ruffled his temper. At headquarters Si found half a dozen men who had been detailed from other companies for the work in question. All were in a similar condition as to their feet and limbs ; and judging from the emphatic observations that fell from their lips, there was no dissent from the views Si had expressed to Shorty. Thc}^ had not yet learned the "knack" of pitching a tent, and not till after repeated trials, under the pressure of pointed rebukes from the colonel for their awkwardness, did they get it up to suit him. Fortunately, Shorty's information that the march might have to be continued through the night, proved to be in- correct. The tired soldiers w^ere directed to make them- selves as comfortable as possible, but to be ready to move at an early hour in the morning. When Si got back to his company he found that his faithful friend had kindled a fire, upon which the coffee was already boiling and the bacon sizzling in a manner most gratifying to one as hungry as he. During the day there had been no halt for coffee. The gnawings of hunger had only been partiall}- appeased by an occasional nibble at the flinty hardtack. As Si limped down from the colonel's tent he had been wonder- ing how he would manage about the supper, and he was delighted at Shorty's promjDt and efficient services. The grateful odor of the steaming coffee did much to revive his drooping spirits. "Shorty," he said, "I think I was mighty lucky to git such a good pardner 's you be. I never knowed ye t'll ye jined the company, 'n' when I fust seen ye I 'lowed ye wan't muzh 'count nohow. I thought \^e'd be the last man I'd ever want ter tie to. But now I wouldn't swap ye off fer any man 'n the hull rijiment." "Ye can't most alwa3's tell 'bout folks f'm what ys see on the outside," replied Shorty. "I couldn't tell ye how LAST OF THE RECRUITING OFFICER. 173 'twas f I sh'd try, but somehow I kind o' took to ye, Si. f'm the start, n' 's long 's ye keep on the way yeve begun, I'll stick by ye. I never had much bringin' up, 'n' I've knocked 'round fer myself ever sence I was a little shaver, but I've got some feelin's, 'n' it does me good ter have somebody to think 'bout 'n' do suthin' fer when I kin. But the coffee 's done 'n' this ere pig-meat 's fried 'nough ; let's eat." The ties that bound near comrades and associates in the army were more than those of friendship. In constant companionship, bearing one another's burdens and shar- ing the toil and danger and suffering and the hard-earned glor}' of a soldier's life, their hearts were drawn together by a feeling that can find a parallel only in the tenderest relations of life. These cords were fast tightening around Si and Shorty. Si's innocence, frank good-nature and cheery chatter had completely captured his comrade, and thawed out the heart that lay beneath his forbidding ex- terior.' Shortj-'s repeated kindnesses had won Si's ardent affections, and his hard sense and helpful, practical ways were just what was needed by one who had had so little experience with the world as his young companion. "Short}'," said Si, as they spread down their blankets, "that 'cruitin' ossifer kind o' fooled the boys when he blowed so much 'bout Comp'ny Q havin' sich a soft thing, didn't he?" " He did so — them as b'lieved it." "I didn't take no stock in 't," Si continued, "fer I wasn't lookin' fer no soft snap, anyway. Ijined the army with the idee o' seein' the elephant.' "Purty good-sized animile, ain't he, Si?" said Shorty with a laugh. " Wall — yes — n' gittin' bigger all the time ; but I'm. goin' ter have a good squar' look at him. I'd jest like ter seen that feller 't 'listed us humpin' 'long 'th this rijiment. 'V'hat ever become on im. Shorty? " 174 WOLVES IN sheep's CLOTHING. '*0h, he didn't never 'low to do any soljerin'. His pa- trit ism — 1 b iieve that's what they calls it — swelled up so big that it busted. When he got his comp'ny raised he sold us to the man 't 's our capt'n. Ef I'm any jedge Cap. 's wuth a dozen like t'other chap ! " CHAPTER XIII. Which Illustrates the Depravity of the Veteran Soldiers. FAR into the night the weary stragglers, by ones and twos, dragged themselves in^o camp, inquiring the whereabouts of the 200th Indiana. Suffering in body, discouraged and sick at heart, they flung themselves upon the ground with no thought of anything but rest. Their needs were supplied by kind-hearted comrades who had been more fortunate in enduring the fatigue of the day. The doctors found plent}^ of work in administering reviv- ing cordials, and applying soothing emollients to blistered feet and stiffened limbs. Gradually the fires of the great bivouac burned low as the soldiers lay down to sleep. The hum and bustle grew quiet, and the mantle of night spread over the sleeping army. This was the time for the wicked veterans to make their predatory forays upon the new troops. A year of hard campaigning had made sad havoc with the clothing of the old soldiers. Many of them had no blankets or over- coats. Such of these necessary articles as still remained were nivich the worse for the service they had seen. They had not stood it as well as the men. They were worn and tattered, blackened by thesmoke and burned by the sparks of many a camp-fire. The elaborate outfit of the raw sol- diers afforded an opportunity that could not be jjermitte RAIDING THE HOOSIERS. 175 to pass timmproved. The march of twenty miles, that had so neail}^ used up the 200th Indiana, had been noth- ing to the veterans, -with their light burdens and nimble, hardened feet. With laugh and jest and song they had made their coffee, toasted their bacon and munched their hard-tack, and then smoked and spun yarns as they squatted around the fires, in thehappy-go-luck}^ style that characterized the seasoned soldiers. Some of them were so kind of heart as to go over to the bivouac of the aching, smarting, groaning and grumbling Indianians and proffer their advice and personal services in preparing supper and making such arrangements for comfort as the circum- stances would permit. Their ministrations were most gratefully received by the sufferers, who had not the faint- est conception of the real errand of these good Samari- tans. This was to reconnoiter and determine the most promising place to strike — after a deep sleep should have fallen upon those unsuspecting Hoosiers — to replenish their wasted stock of overcoats and blankets. The men of the 200th Indiana warmly thanked the veterans for their timely assistance. The latter, while cherishing their dia- bolical schemes of plunder, assured their neighbors that they were heartily welcome. They had been there them- selves, and knew just how it felt to be "played out.'' Two hours later, when the fires had burned to smolder- ing embers, dark forms glided noiselessl}^ about among the prostrate soldiers of the 200th. Here an overcoat was adroitly prigged from under the head of a sleeper, and there a blanket was gently drawn from the forms it covered. The men generally slept by twos, spreading one blanket upon the ground and the other over them. Fortu- nate was he who had no " pard," and wrapped himself in his solitary blanket, lying upon part of it and covering himself with the rest. For obvious reasons he was safe from the operations of the raiders. Sometimes the prowler /' and poor Si didn't know what to do. He wnshed he couM only talk like the old mule drivers. He thought it would make him feel better. Then> v^as no one to help him out of his dilemma, as the members of the company were all getting ready for the mai ch. A veteran teamster happened along that way, took in the situation at a glance, and volunteered his assistance. "Here, young feller," said he, "Lemme show ye ho'w to take the stiffenin' out o' them ere dod-gasted mules ! " Seizing the whip at the small end of the stock he began laying on right and left with the butt, taking care to keep out of range of the heels. During these exercises he was shouting at the top of his voice words that hissed through the air. Si thought he could smell the brimstone and see the smoke issuing from the old teamster's mouth and nos- trils. This is a section of what that experienced mule- driver said, as nearly as types can express it : *' I I !!!***ttt!!! ! ? ? ? - ''t$! !! !" Si thanked the veteran for these timely suggestions in the 232 THE CARAVAN UNDER WAY. way of language, and said lie would remember them. H(k had no doubt they would help him out next time. They finally got the team untied, and Si drove over to headquarters. The regiment had been gone some time, a detail having been left to load the wagon. After getting out upon the road the mules plodded along without ob- jection, and Si got on famously. But having lost his place in the column in consequence of the dela}^ he was obliged to fall in rear of the division train, and it was noon before he got well started. TOTAL DEPRAVITY. Along toward evening Si strucka section of oldcorduroy road through a piece of swamp. The passage of the ar- tillery and wagons had left it in a wretched condition. The logs were lying at all points of the compass, or drift- ing about in the mire, while here and there were seas of water and pits of abysmal depth. To make the story short. Si's mules stumbled and floundered and kicked, while he laid on with the whip and used some of the words he had learned from the old team- ster before starting. MORE TROUBLE, AND SI RESIGNS. 238 At length the wagon became hopelessly stalled. The wheels sank to the hubs, and Si yelled and cracked his whip in vain. Perhaps if he had had the old teamster there to talk for him he could have pulled through, but as it was he gave it up, dismounted, hunted a dry spot, and sat down to think. Just before dark a large detail from the regiment which had been sent back on an exploring expedition for the col- onel's team, reached the spot. After hours of prying and pushing and tugging and j'^elling they at length got ''' the wagon over the slough, reaching camp about mid- night. The colonel was a good deal excited because his wagon was so late in get- ting up. It contain- ed his mess -chest and he had been compelled to wait for his supper, fain to stay his hunger by begging a hardtack or two from the boys. He made it very uncomfortable for the amateur teamster. Early next morning Si went back to the company. " Or- derly," said he, "Ib'lieve I'd like ter resign my place as mule-driver. It's a nice, soft thing, but I'd jest 's lief let s'm other feller have it, an' I'll take my gun an' go ter Koofin' it agin!" IN THE SLOUGH. CHAPTER XVIII. Si Smells Powder, Behaves Handsomely, and is Made a Corporal ^ C ^^ EEMS to me it's 'bout time ter be gittin' into a K^ fight !" said Si Klegg to Shorty one night as they sat around the fire after supper, with their shoes and stock- ings off, comparing the size and number of their respective bhsters. Neither of them had left on their feet much of the skin with which they started out. "I always s'posed,*' he continued, "that bein' a soljer meant fightin' somebody; and here we are roamin' over the country like a lot o' tramps. I cant see no good in it, nohow !' "Don't be in a hurr}^ Si," replied Shorty; "I reckn we'll ketch it soon 'nough. F'm what I've heern the old soldiers tell, a battle ain't such a funny thing as a feller thinks what don't know nothin' 'bout it. The boys is al- waj^s hungry at fust forshootin' and bein' shot at, but I've an idee that it sort o' takes away their appetite when they gits one squar' meal of it. They don't hanker arter it no more. It's likely we'll git filled full one o' these days ! I'm willin' ter wait!" "Wall,'' said Si, "I sh'd think we might have a little squirmish, anyhow. Id like ter have a chance ter try my gun, 'n' hear what kind of a noise bullets makes. Of course I'd ruther they'd hit some other feller 'sides me, but I'm ready ter take the chances. I don't b'lieve I'd be afeard!" Si was ambitious, and full of the martial ardor that blazed in the breast of every young volunteer. He was COMPANY Q TO THE FRONT. 235 really g^ad when the orderly came around presently and told them that the 200th Indiana would have the advance next day, and Company Q would be on the skirmish line. He told the boys to see that their cartridge-boxes w^ere all full and their guns in good order, as they would be very likely to run foul of the rebels. Before Si went to bed he cleaned up his gun and made sure that it would "go off" when he wanted it to. Then he and Shorty crawled under the blankets, and as they lay "spoon fashion," thinking about what might happen the next day. Si said he hoped they would both have "lots of sand." All night Si was dreaming about awful scenes of slaugh- ter. Before morning he had destroyed a large part of the Confederate arm}-. It was yet dark when the reveille sounded through the camp, Si and Shorty kicked off the blankets at first blast of bugle, and were quickly in their places for roll- call. Then, almost in a moment, fires were gleaming, and the soldiers gathered around them to prepare their hasty breakfast. Before the sun was up the bugles rang out again upon the morning air. In quick succession came the "general," the "assembly," and "to the color." The 200th marched out upon the pike, but soon filed off into a cornfield to take its assign'^a place in the line, for the advance division was to mo\e in order of battle, brigade front, that day Moving in line of battle was a very different thing from marching in column on a well-defined road. The former mode of advancing was customary when in the immediate presence of the enemy, to be in readiness for action at any mo- ment. Incase of sudden attack, a body of men marching by the flank would almost inevitably be thrown into con- fusion before it could be formed in order of battle. Some- times the leading corps of an army, disposed m two or three parallel lines, w- ith a front of a mile or more, marched 236 BEHIND A CONVENIENT STUMP. all day with this formation, directly "across country,'* through field and wood and bramble patch, leveling every fence in its course, fording streams and swamps, stopping for nothing, except, perhaps, a fortified position of the enemy. A march of this kind was extremely fatiguing, and night found the men with clothing torn and hands and faces bleeding from the effects of bush and brier. During the early hours of the day, when moving through thick underbrush or fields of standing grain wet with the heavy dews of night, the garments of the soldiers became as com- pletely saturated as if they were marching in a rain-storm. In obedience to orders Company Q moved briskly out and deployed as skirmishers, covering the regimental front. The movement was not a scientific "deployment," for that point in the tactics had not yet been reached ; but a few directions enabled the men to spread themselves out in good shape. As the line advanced through field and thicket Si Klegg's heart was not the only one that thumjjed against the blouse that covered it. It was not long till a squad of cavalrymen came gallop- ing back, yelling that the rebels were just ahead. The line was halted for a few minutes, while the generals swept the surrounding country with their field-glasses, and took in the situation. The skirmishers, for fear of accidents, took advantage of such cover as presented itself. Si and Shorty found themselves to leeward of a large stump. "D'3^e reckon a bullet 'd go through this 'ere stump?" aaid Si. Before Shorty could answer, something happened that absorbed their entire attention. Boom-m-m-m ? "D-d-d've hear that?" said Si through his chattering teeth. "Yes. and there's suthin comin' over this wa,y," replied Shorty. SI AND SHORTS' GET PANICKY. 237 A shell came screaming and swishing through the air. The young Hoosiers curled around the roots of that stump and flattened themselves out like a pair of griddle-cakes. If it was Si and Shorty that the rebel gunners were after they timed the shell to a second, for it burst with a lond bang just over them. The fragments flew all around, some striking the stump and others tearing up the dirt on every side. To say that for the moment those two soldiers were demoralized would be drawing it very mildly. They showed unmistakable s^^mptoms of a panic. It seemed as though they would < Yr m:,f^% be hopelessly stam- peded. Their tongues were paralyzed, and they could only look silently into each other's white faces. Si was the first to recover himself, al- though it could hard- ly be expected that he could get over his scare all at once. "D-d-did it hit ye, Sh-Shorty?"he said. " N-no, I guess not ; b-b-but ain't it aw-awful. Si ? You looked so b-b-bad I th-thought ye was k-k-killed !" "Who's afeard?"said Si. "I was only sheered of you, Shorty. Brace up, pard ! It's all right so 's we ain't hurt. But say. Short}', does all the bullets do that waj^?" "That was a shell a-bustin', Si, 'n' that big noise jest 'fore it was a cannon. I'veheerd 't shells was powerful fer skeerin', 'n' I 'low ther' ain't no mistake 'bout it." "I've read 'bout shells 'n' things," said Si, "but I never heerd one afore. Ef they're all like that un I don't guess NEARLY A PANIC. >/ 238 SI GETS A SHOT, I'm goin' ter like 'em very much. We hain't got no use ftr 'em, 'n'l wish thej^'d keep 'em to theirselves. Tain't a fa'r way ter fight, nuther; a feller hain't got no show 'th a muskit agin a cannon 't heaves them things a mile." Several more shells were sent over, but they exploded to the right and left and in the rear. "Givin' the rest o' the boys a chance ter smell 'em," said Shorty. " 'Pears to me they'd orter be divided 'round. I ain't no pig, 'n' I'm willin' ter wait t'll it's my turn." After a brief consultation the generals determined to push on. "Skirmishers — Forward ! " was heard along the line. " Come on, Shorty," said Si, and they plung- ed bravely ahead. Emerging suddenly ^'^^ from a thick wood, they y^ came upon the rebel skir- ■^ mishers in full view, I posted on the opposite side of a field. -/^. Crack! Crack!— Zip! Zip! "Guess there's a bee- tree somewhere around here, from the way the bees is buzzin'," said Si. "'Tain't no bees," replied Shorty, "them's bullets, Si. Nice music, ain"t it ? Don't ye see the durned galoots over yonder a-shootin' at us ? " Si was not a coward, and he was determined to show that he was not. The shell, a little while before, had taken the starch out of him for a few minutes, but that was nothing to his discredit. Many a seasoned veteran found himself exceedingly limber imder such circumstances. "Let's give the raskils a dose, " said he ; "the best we've got 'n the shop! " si's first shot. AND TAKES A PRISONER. 239 Suiting the action to the word Si crept up to a fence, thrust his gun between the rails, took good aim and fired. A bullet from the other side of the field made the splinters fly from a rail a foot or two from his head, but he was getting excited now, and he didn't mind it any more than if it had been a paper wad from a pea-shooter. It makes a great difiPerence with a soldier under fire \vhetherhecan take ahand in the game himself, or whether he must lie idle and let the enemy "play it alone." "Did ye hear him squeal? " said Si, as he dropped upon the ground and began to reload with all his might. "I hit that feller, sure pop ! Give 'em pertickler fits. Shorty. We'll show 'em 't the 200th Injianny 's in front to-day! " "Forward, men!" shouted the officers. "Go right for 'em!' The skirmishers sprang over the fence and swept across the field at a "double-quick" in the face of a sputtering fire that did little damage. None of them readied the other side any sooner than Si did. The rebels seemed to have found out that the 200th was coming, for thev were already on the run, and some of them had started early. Pell-mell through the brush they went, and the blue- blouses after them. "Halt, there, or I'll blow a hole clean through ye!" yelled Si, as he closed up on a ragged specimen of the Southern Confederacy whose -wind had given out. Si thought it would be a tall feather in his hat if he could take a prisoner and march him back. The "Johnn^^" gave one glance at his pursuer, hesitated, and was lost. He surrendered at discretion. "Come 'long with me; ye're my meat!" said Si, his ej-es glistening with pleasure and pride. He conducted his prisoner back and delivered him to the colonel. "Well done, my brave fellow ! " said the colonel. "This is a glorious da}^ for the 200th Indiana, and you've taken its first prisoner. What's 3'our name, m v boy ? " 240 KIND WORDS FROM THE COLONEL. "Joslah Klegg, sir! " said Si, blushing to the very roots of his hair. "What company do you belong to ? " "Company Q, sir!" and Si saluted the officer as nicely as he knew how. "I'll see your captain to-night, Mr. Klegg, and you shall be rewarded for your good conduct. You are the kind of stuff we want for non-commissioned offi- cers, and we must have you promoted. You may now return to your company." It was the proudest moment of Si's life up to date. He stammered out his thanks to the colonel, and then, throwing his gun up to a right-shoulder-shift, he started off on a can- ter to rejoin the skir- mishers. The fight was over. It was only the rebel rear -guard making a stand to check the ad- vance of the Union troops, led by the im- petuous 200th Indiana. The main body of the Confederate army was getting out of the way A GOOD BEGINNING. ^s fast as possiblc. That night Si Klegg was the subject of a short conver- sation between his captain and the colonel. They agreed that Si had behaved very handsomely, and deserved to be promoted. "Are there any vacancies in your non-commissioned offi- cers ? *" asked the colonel. "No," was the reply "but there ought to be. One of SI APPOINTED A CORPORAL. 241 my corporals skulked back to the rear tliis morning and crawled into a wagon. I think we had better reduce him to the ranks and appoint Mr, Klegg."" "Do so at once, " said the colonel. Next morning, when the 200th was drawn up in line, an order was read by the adjutant reducing the skulker and promoting Si to the full rank of corporal, with a few words commending the gallantry of the latter. These orders announcing rewards and punishments were sup- posed to have a salutary effect by inspiring the men to deeds of glory, and as a warning to those who were a little short of "sand." Si bore his unexpected honors with becoming modesty. The boys of Company Q cheered him on the march that day, shouting and yelling for "Corporal Klegg'' with great effusiveness. In the evening, after supper, in spite of his protests, they placed him on a cracker-box mounted on two rails, and four sturdy n;en carried him around in triumphal state on their shoulders, led by fife and drum and followed by the members of the company in grotesque procession. It may have been accidental, — possibly it was part of the plan for the celebration — but one of the rails slipped and the new corporal tumbled to the ground in a promiscuous heap, amidst the shouts of his comrades. He was informed that he would be required to "set 'em up" at the first opportunity. Promotions in the army were celebrated by demonstra- tions of this kind, with every conceivable variation of stj'le, and few who had stripes put on their arms were per- mitted to escape. The solemn awe with which the soldiers at first regarded their commissioned officers gradually melted away, and they, too, had to come in for their share of attention when they stepped up a round in the ladder. When a soldier was commissioned from the ranks he was an especial object of boisterous congratulation; nor was 242 ANOTHER LETTER TO ANNIE. he permitted to wear his shoulder-straps in peace until they had been properly "moistened." Si hunted up some strips of cloth and needle and thread, went off back of the tent, rammed his bayonet into the ground, stuck a candle in the socket, and, with Shorty's assistance, sewed chevrons on his sleeves. " Thar,'' said Shorty, as his comrade put on his decorated blouse, "them stripes 's mighty becomin' to ye, 'n' ye arned em, too, faV 'n' squar', I ain't 'shamed ter have ye fer m}- pard." Then Si thought of somebody whose heart he hoped would flutter with pleasure" to know of his promotion, and before going to bed he wrote a short letter : Deer Annie : I once more take my pen in hand to tell 3^ou theres grate news. I'm an ossifer. We had an awful fite yisterdy. I don't know how menny rebbles I kild, but I guess thare was enuff to start a good sized graveyard. I tuk a prizner, too, and the Kurnal says to nie bully fer 3'ou Mister Klegg, or sumthin to that eflfeck. This momin they made me a Corporil, and red it out before the hull rijinient. I guess youd been prowd if you cood a seen me. To-night the bo3-s is hollerin hurra vv fer Corporil Klegg all over camp. 1 aint as big as the Ginrals and sum of the other ossifers, but thars no tellin how hi I'll get in three years. Rownd is the ring that haint no end, So is my luv to you my frend. Yours, same as before, Corporil Si Klegg. CORPORAL SI KLEGG. CHAPTER XIX* "Should Old Acquaintance be Forgot and Never Brought to Mind?"— The Little Bug with the Big Name. ONE day just before Si left home with Company Q he ■ was sitting on the sugar barrel in the corner gro- cer3% gnawing a "blind robin," and telling how he thought the war wouldn't last long after the 200th Indiana got down there and took a hand in the game. One of the town boys, who had been a. year in the service, had got a bullet through his arm in a skirmish, and was at home on furlough, entered the store and accosted him : "Hello, Si; goin' for a soljer, ain't ye?" "You bet!" "Wall, you'd better b'lieve it's great fun; it's jest a pic- nic all the time! But say> Si, let's see yer finger-nails!" "I'd like ter know what finger-nails 's got to do with soljerin'!" said Si. "The 'cruitin' ossifer 'n' the man 't * Before entering upon this chapter the writer is moved to a few words of explanation — he will not say apolog3^ Under ordinary circumstances the "grayback " would be a theme with few attractions for a refined and sensitive reader. Possibly these pages maybe scanned by some for whose information it is well to say that the " grayback " was a very large factor in the discomfort of the sol. Jer. In the usual conditions of life the abiding presence of this pestiferous insect might well be considered an evidence of uncleanly habits. In the army it was not so — that is to sa}-, there were times when ever3^bod3^, from generals down, "had 'em" more or less, and no power on earth could prevent it. To "skip " the subject in these pages would be deemed by the old soldier an unpardonable fault; and the writer believes that any jjerson who will put himself in the place of the soldier may read this chapter without offending his sense of liter- ary propriety. 243 244 SI IS PUZZLED. keeps the doctor shop made me shuck myself, 'n' then they 'xamined my teeth, 'n' thumped me in the ribs, 'n' rubbed down my legs, 'n' looked at my hoofs, but they didn't say nothin' 'bout my finger-nails." "You jest do 's I tell ye; let 'em grow 'n' keep 'em right sharp. Ye'll find plenty o' use fer em arter a while, 'n' 'twon't be long, nuther. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout." Si wondered a good deal what the veteran meant about the finger-nails. He did not even know that there existed in animated nature a certain active and industrious insect which, before he had been in the army a great while, would cause his heart to overflow with gratitude that nature had provided him w^ith nails on his fingers. If the 200th Indiana had been quartered for a while in long-used barracks, orhad pitched its tents in an old camp. Si would very soon have learned the delightful luxury of finger-nails. But the regiment had moved out quickly with the army and always camped on new ground. Under these circumstances the insect to which allusion has been made did not begin its work of devastation with that suddenness that usually marked its attack upon soldiers entering the field. One afternoon, when a few days out, a regiment of Wis- consin veterans bivouacked next to the 200th. Their strange antics, as they threw off their accouterments, at- tracted Si's attention. " Look a' thar," he said to Shorty. "What 'n the name of all the prophets 's them fellers up to ?" "Seems like they was scratchin' theirselves!" "I s'pose that's on account o' the dust 'n' sweat," said Si. "It's a mighty sight wuss 'n that !" replied Short}^ who knew more about these things than Si did. "I reckon we'll all be doin' like they are 'fore long." Si whistled softh" as he watched the Wisconsin boys. They were hitching and twisting their shoulders about, "SKIRMISHING." 245 evidently enjoying the friction of the clothing upon their skins. There was a general employment of fingers, and often one would be seen getting some other fellow to scratch his back around where he couldn't reach himself. If everybody was too busy to do this for him, he would back up to a tree and rub up and down against the bark. Life has few pleasures that can equal the sensations of delightful enjoyment produced, in those days when gray- backs were plentj^ by rubbing against a tree that nicely fitted the hollow of the back, after throwing off one's "traps " at the end of a day's travel. Directly the Wisconsin chaps began to scatter into the woods. Si watched them as they got behind the trees and threw off their blouses and shirts. He thought at first that perhaps they ^vere going in swimming, but there was no stream of water at hand large enough to justify this theory in explanation of their partial nudity. As each man sa^ down, spread his shirt over his knees, and ap- peared to be intently engaged with eyes and fingers, Si's curiosity was very much excited. "Looks 's if they wuz all mendin' up their shirts an' sewin' on buttons," said Si. "Guess it's part o' their regu. lar drill, ain't it, Shorty? "' Shorty laughed at Si's ignorant simplicity. He knew what those veterans were doing, and he knew that Si would have to come to it, but he did not want to shock his tender sensibilities bv telling- him of it. "Them fellers ain't sewin' on no buttons, Si," he replied, "they're skirmishin'." "Skirmishin' ! '' exclaimed Si, opening his eyes verj^wide. "I hain't seen no signs o' rebils 'round here, 'n' there ain't any shootin' goin' on, 'nless I've lost my hearin'. It's the funniest skirmishin' I ever heern tell of! " "Now, don't ax me nuthin' more 'bout it. Si," said Shorty. "All I'm goin' to tell ye is that the longer ye live 246 IN QUEST OF INFORMATION, the more ye'll find things out. Let's flax 'round n git supjser ! " A little while after, as Si was squatting on the ground holding the frying-pan over the fire, he saw a strange in- sect vaguely wandering about on the sleeve of his blouse. It seemed to be looking for something, and Si became in- terested as he watched it traveling up and down his arm. He had never seen one like it before, and had a desire to know what it was. He would have asked Shorty, but his comrade had gone to the spring for water. Casting his eye around he saw the first lieutenant, who chanced to be sauntering through the camp. The lieutenant had been the principal of a seminars, and at home was looked upon by the simple villagers as a man who knew about all that was worth knowing. Si thought he might be able to tell him some- thing of the harmless- 1'/ looking little stranger. So he put do\Yn his frying-pan and stepped up to the oflScer, holding out his arm and keeping his eye on the insect so that it should not get away. "Good evenin', Lieutenant ! " said Si, touching his hat. "Good evening, Corporal Klegg,"said the ofiicer, return- ing the salute. "Look a-here, pard," said Si, familiarly, forgetting in tlie interest he felt in the subject of inquiry the chasm of rank that j^awned between them, "^'ou've bin ter col- lidge, "'n' got filled up with book-rarnin' ; p'raps ye kin tell me what kind o' bug this is. I'm just a little bit curus ter A LESSON IN NATURAL HISTORY. WHICH IS DULY IMPARTED. 247 know." And Si pointed to the insect, that was leisurely creeping toward a hole in the elbow of his outer garment, " Well, Josiah," said the lieutenant, after a brief inspec- tion, "I i^resume I don't know quite as much as some peo- ple think I do ; but I guess I can tell you something about that insect. I never had any of them myself, but I've read of them." "Never had 'em himself!" thought Si. "What 'n the world does he mean?" And Si's big eyes opened with wonder and fear at the thought that whatever it was he had "got 'em.'' "I suppose," continued the captain, "you would like to know the scientific name?'' "I reck'n that'll do 's well 's any." "Well, sir, that is a Pediculus. That's a Latin word, but it's his name." "Purty big name fer sich a leetle bug, ain't it, Perfes- sor?" observed Si. "Name's big enough for an el'fant er a 'potamus." "It maj^seem so. Corporal ; but when you get intimately acquainted with him I think you will find that his name Isn't any too large for him. There is a good deal more of him than j^ou think." The voung soldier's eyes opened still wider. "I was going on to tell you," continued the lieutenant, "that there are several kinds of pediculi — we don't say pediculuses. There is the pediculus capitis — Latin again, but it means the kind that lives on the head. I presume when \'ou were a little shaver your mother now and then harrowed your head with a fine-tooth comb ?" "Ya-as" said Si; "she almost took the hide off some- times, 'n' made me 3'ell like an Injun." "Now, Mr. Klegg-, I don't wish to cause vou unneces- sar}^ alarm, but I will say that the Jiead insect isn't a cir- cumstance to this one on your arm. As you would express 248 CORPORALS IN JEOPARDY. it, perhaps, he can't hold a candle to him. This fellow is the pediculus corporis .'" "I s'pose that means they eats up corporals !" said Si, with a terrified glance at the two stripes on his arm. "I do not think the pediculus corporis confines himself exclusively to corporals, as his name might indicate," said the lieutenant, laughing at Si's literal translation and per- sonal application of the word. "He no doubt likes a juicy and succulent corporal, but I don't believe he is any respecter of persons. That's my opinion, from what I've heard about him. It is likely that I will be able to speak more definitely, from experience, after a while. Corporis means that he is the kind that pastures on the human body. But there's one thing more about this fellow. They sometimes call him pediculus vestimenti ; that is because he lives around in the clothing. " But we don't wear no vests," said Si, taking a practical view of this new word; "nothin' but blouses, 'n' pants, 'n' shirts." "You are too literal, Mr. Klegg. That Avord means any kind of clothes. But I guess I've told you as much about him as you care to know at present. If you want any more information, after two or three weeks, come and see me again. I think by that time you will not find it neces- sary to ask any more questions." Si went back to his cooking, with the pediculus still on his arm. He wanted to show it to Shorty. The lieuten- ant's explanation, with its large words, was a little too much for him. He did not yet clearly comprehend the matter, and as he walked thoughtfully to where Shorty was boiling the coffee he was trying to get through his head what it all meant. "Hello, Si," said Shorty; "whar ye bin? What d'ye mean,goin' off 'n' leavin' yer meat half done? " "Sh-h!" replied Si. "Ye needn't git yer back up about it. Been talkin' to the leftenant. Shorty ; look at that 'ere SHORTY LETS IN THE LIGHT. 249 btig!" And Si pointed to the subject of the officer's lec- ture on natural history that was still creeping on his arm. Shorty slapped his thigh and burst into a loud laugh. "Was that what ye went to see him 'bout? " he asked as soon as he could speak. "Why — ya-as," replied Si, surprised at Shorty's unseemly levit^^ "I saw that thing crawlin' 'round, 'n' I was a-wonderin' what it was, fer I never seen one afore. I knowed the leftenant was a scholard 'n' a perfesser, 'n' all that, 'n' I 'lowed he c'd tell me 'bout it. So I went 'n' axed him." "What 'd he tell ye?" "He told me lots o' big, heathenish words, 'n' said this bug was a ridiculus, er suthin' like that." " 'Diculus be blowed ! " said Shorty. " The ole man was a-stuffin' of ye. I'll tell ye what that is, Si," he added solemnh--, "that's a grayback! " "A grayback! " said Si. "I've hearn 'em call the John- nies, graybacks, but I didn't know 's there was an}' other kind." "I reck'n t won't be long, now, t'll yer catches on ter the meanin' of what a grayback is. Ye'll know all 'bout it purty sudden. This ain't the fust one I ever seen." Si was impressed, as he often had been before, by Shorty's superior wisdom and experience. "See here. Si," Shorty continued, as his eye suddenly lighted up with a brilliant thought, "I guess I kin make ye understand what a grayback is. What d'ye call that coat ye've got on? " "Why, that's a fool question; it's a blouse, o' course!" "Jesso ! " said Shorty. "Now, knock off the fust letter o' that word, 'n' see what ye got left ! " Si looked at Shorty as if he thought his conundrums were an indication of approaching idiocy. Then he said, half to himself: * ' Let's see ! Blouse— blouse— take off the fust letter, that's 250 A CHEERFUL PICTURE. 'b' — n' she spells 1-o-u-s-e, louse. Great Jemimy, Shorty, Is that a louse? '' "That's jest the size of it, Si. Ye'll have millions on 'em 'fore the \var"'s over 'f they don't hurry up the cakes." Si looked as if he would like to dig a hole and get into it and have Short}^ cover him up. "Why didn't the leftenant tell me 'twas that? He said suthin' about ridiculus corporalis, and I thought he was makin' fun o' me. He said these bugs liked to eat nice, fat corporals." "I reck'n that's so," replied Shorty; "but the^^ likes other people jest as well — even a skinny feller like me. They lunches ofif'n privits, 'n' corp'rils, 'n' kurnals, 'n' gin'rals, all the same. They ain't satisfied with three square meals a day, nuther; they jest eats right along all the time 'tween regular meals. They alius gits hungry in the night, too, and chaws a feller up while he's asleep. The}^ don't give je no show at all. I rayther think the graybacks likes the ossifers best if they could have their ch'ice, 'cause they's fatter 'n the privits; they gits better grub." Si fairly turned pale as he contemplated the picture so graphicall}' presented by Shorty. The latter's explanation was far more effectual in letting the light in upon Si's mind than the scientific disquisition of the "perfesser." He had now a pretty clear idea of what a "grayback" was. Whatever he lacked to make his knowledge complete was soon supplied in the regular v/ay. But Si was deeply grrieved and shocked at what Shortv had told him. "Shorty," he said, with a sadness in his tone that would almost have moved a mule to tears, "who'd a-thoughtl'd ever git as low down 's this, to have them peskj^ gray- backs, 's 3^e call 'em, crawlin' over me. How_ mother 'd feel if she knew about 'em. She wouldn't sleep a wink fer a month?" "Ye'll have ter come to it, Si. All the soljers does, from the major-gin'rals down tothetail-end o' the mule-whack« A LESSOX IX EXTERMIXATIOX. 251 ers. Ye mind them 'Sconsin cliaps we was lookin' at a little bit ago ?" "Yes," said Si. "Wall, graybacks was what ailed 'em. The fellers with their shirts on their knees was killin' on 'em off. That's what they calls 'skirmishin'.' There's other kinds o' skir- mishin' besides fightin' rebels! We'd better git rid o' that one on yer arm, ef he hain't got inside a-ready ; then ther' '11 be one less on 'em ; but ef ye don't watch out ther' '11 be athou- san' comin' ter the fun'ral ! " Si found him after a short search, and proposed to get a chip, carry him to the fire and throw him in. "NawP' said Shorty in disgust, "that's no way. Lemme show ye how!" Sh orty placed one thumb-nail on each side of the insect. There was a quick pressure, a snap like the crack of M a percussion cap, and ^^| all was over. Si shuddered, and wondered if he could practical instruction. ever engage in such a work of slaughter. "D'ye s'pose," he said to Shorty, "that there's anymore of 'em on me?" And he began to hitch his shoulders about, and to feel a desire to put his fingers to active use. "Shouldn't w-onder," replied Shorty. "Mebbe I've got 'era, too. Let's go out 'n' do a little skirmishin' otirselves." "We'd better go off a good ways," said Si, "so the boys won't see us." "You're too nice and pertickler for a soljer. Si. Thej-'ll all bedoin' it, even the cap'n himself, by termorrerernex' daj " 252 A TOUCHING SCENE. They went out back of the camp, where Si insisted on getting behind the largest tree he could find. Then they sat down and engaged in that exciting chase of the pedic' ulus up and down the seams of their garments, so familiar to all who wore either the blue or the gray. Thousands of nice young men, who are now preachers and doctors and lawyers and statesmen, felt just as badly about it at first as Si did. But they all became very expert in the use of the thumb-nail. "Shorty," said Si, as thej- slowly walked back to eat their supper, whicli had been neglected in the excitement of the hour, " afore Company Q started ter jine the rijiment a feller 't was home *on furlough told me ter let my finger- nails grow long 'li' sharp. He said I'd need 'em. I didn't know what he meant then, but I reck'n I do now.'' Among the mem- ories of the war few are more vivid than those of the numerous little pests that, of one kind or another, day and night, year in and year out, foraged upon the body of the soldier. In every new locality there seemed to be a fresh assortment of ravenous insects, to cause bodily discomfort and drive away sleep. Bullets and screaming shell were not desirable companions, but as a rule they only came now and then; while the bugs and worms and insects, in every form that flies or creeps, were with the soldier alwavs. Manv of them, though an- ' SKIRMISHING. AT THE HEAD OF THE CLASS. 253 noying, were harmless, while others seemed to have been created for the especial purpose of spoiling men's tempers and getting them into the habit of using bad language. Every man who marched and scratched will place the pediculus at the head of the list, and keep him there. He was every where— the soldier's close and intimate compan- ion, incam^^and hospital and prison, on the march and the battlefield. The faithful portrait here given represents a robust specimen of this sportive insect. It is of heroic size, having been enlarged twenty times by the aid of a microscope. No doubt the scientific name would be nij^s- tif\angtomost of the veterans of the war, but no practiced eye can fail to recognize in the work of the artist an old acquaintance that was ever present. It would appear not unlikeh^ that the nat- uralists christened the in- sect by this sounding name — pediculus ves timen ti — so that it could be used in any company of polite people with perfect safety, as not one person in a hundred would know what it meant. If doubt exists in the mind of any respecting the identity of the pediculus, it will h?. removed by the following, from the American Entomologist — a magazine in which the wise men tell all they know, or can guess at, about bugs and insects. It says : This is the species which, during the late war, infested so grievously both Union and rebel soldiers, from whom it received the characteristic name of "graj-back." This is the name that strikes the veteran. It has the old, familiar sound, and there can be no mistake about it. The teamed writer goes on to discuss the theme in this way: THE PEDICULUS. [This portrait is many times larger than he really was, but not half as big as he sometimes seemed to be.] 254 A TROUBLESOME QUESTION. The reason that it was so prevalent in the late war wa» that the sol- diers, from the necessities of the service, were unable to wash their cloth- ing as often as they would have done at home, and nineteen times out of twenty had nothing but cold water to wash it in. Now, almost every species of insect will revive after an immersion of several hours in cold water, whereas water of such a temperature that you cannot bear 3-our finger in it for one second will immediateV destro3^ any insect, whatever, that is immersed in it. One of the great problems of the war \vas how to get rid of the pediculus. It was decidedly a practical question, and personally interested the soldiers far more than those of state sovereignt3% confiscation and the negro, which agitated the minds of the statesmen. Probauly the in- tellects of most of the soldiers were exercised far more in planning successful campaigns against the pediculus than in thinking about those which were directed against Lee and Jackson and Bragg and Joe Johnston. This arch enemy of the soldier preyed incessantly upon "Yankee " and rebel alike. But for this fact it might have been imagined that the pediculus was a diabolical inven- tion of the enemy, more to be dreaded than Gatling guns, Greek fire or breech-loading rifles. As it was, he feasted and fattened with equal enjoyment upon those who wore the blue and the gi"ay, officer and private. * Sometimes for weeks the soldiers tramped through heat and dust, night and day, with but very rare opportunities for washing either their clothes or their persons. Water, soap, and leisure time were equally scarce. It was then * During a long midsummer march, the writer saw a robust brigadier- general, who was afterward President of the United States, engaged in hunting the pediculus, with his nether garment spread out upon his knees in the popular style. It was j ust after the arm^^ had bivouacked for the night at the end of a hard da\^'s march. The soldiers had no tents, nor anything else to speak of— except graybacks. These were exceed- ingly numerous and active. The general had wandered out back of his headquarters, and, squatting behind a large tree, applied his energies to the work of "skirmishing," while the setting sun cast a mellow glow over the touching scene. Not far away, behind other big trees, were two of his staff officers similarly engaged — cracking jokes and graybacks. HOT WATER AND THUMB-NAIL. 255 that the pediculus had a prolonged season of sumptuous living. There was little chance for the effective boiling process. When a few afflicted men were so fortunate as to secure the use of a kettle, they wandered about in puris uaturalibus above the latitude of the waistband, while they crowded the fire and suffered the boiling water to do its purifying work. It was useless to try to drown the insects. In boiling lay the only hope of extermination, and even this gratifying effect was but temporary, for it did not take long to "catch 'em" again. Scalding water also brought to an un- timely end all the eggs or " nits, " thus pre- venting the birth of a new generation to join the marauding forces. Therein lay the advan- tagreof hot water over that universal weapon, the thumb-nail, which slew its millions. This was none the less effec- tive as far as it went,.^ but it was a good deal slower, requiring time and patience. The^ thumb-nail could not reach out into the future, as it were, like the foaming camp-kettle, and prematurely cut off myriads yet unborn. In the southern prisons, where thousands of Union sol- diers were huddled together, with no change of clothing and only the most limited cleansing facilities, the swarms of lice that preyed constantly upon the wretched, starving men, added immeasurably to their sufferings. T-^ ^^as a source of continual wonder to the soldiers vnere the countless multitudes of gra\'backs came from. ONE OF LIFE S PLEASURES. 256 MEMORIES OF THE MOSQUITO. A German naturalist has brought his mathematics to bear upon the subject, and finds that two female pediculi will in eight weeks become the mothers and grandmothers of a posterity- numbering not less than ten thousand! Some people might not bt lieve this, but no old soldier will have the slightest doubt of the entire correctness of the statement. Indeed, if the professor had said ten million he could have found a cloud of witnesses readj to sustain him with affidavits. The second place on the list of pests may be awarded to the mosquito — more familiarly known as the "skeeter.'' This insect was often quite as numerous as the pediculus. In low, damp regions, during warm weather, swarms o{ these bloodthirsty insects drove the soldiers to the borders of distraction. They came in literal clouds, filling the air> the hum of a million wings swelling in maddening chorus. The naturalists say a mosquito's wings vibrate three thousand times a minute. The soldier w^ho has heard them buzzing in his ears wiU'certif)^ that this is not an overestimate. How man^^ times he found sleep possible only by curling up tinder his blanket and covering every inch of feet, hands and head, at the imminent risk of being smothered ! Sometimes the mosquitoes would not be baffled even in this way, and they would prod their bills through the blanket and pierce their victim. Then he would rush wildlv out and heap on the fire something that \vould make a great smudge. Sitting down in the thickest of the smoke, he would weep and cough and sneeze and strangle and swear — even this deplorable condition being preferable to the torments of the "skeeters." This picture is not overdrawn. Such scenes were common in many localities, from the Chickahomin}^ to the Rio Grande. The mosquito reached his highest state of physical and carniverous development on the arid plains of Texas. Those who spent the summer and fall months in that for- saken region are fully prepared to defend the affirmative TOUGH, I3UT TRUE. 257 of this proposition. During September and October, in the evening, the visitations \vere simplv appalling. A few of the soldiers had foreseen the impending evil and pro- vided themselves with netting, but to the great mass of them the remembrance of those nights is like a hideous dream. They frequently sat up a good part of the night, their "pup" tents tightly buttoned, and a smudge of weeds and grass within. In addition to this every man had his pipe filled with "navy plug'' or "niggerhead, " and the viler the tobacco the more effective was the smoke upon the mosquitoes. The writer one afternoon rode a horse over the prairie, a distance of about ten miles. Before starting he took the precaution to cover his hands with gauntlets, tying them closely around the wrists, and to wind cloths around his head until he looked like a mummy. By the time his des- tination was reached he and portions of his horse were completely covered Avith masses of mosquitoes, clinging to one another and hanging' in festoons from every point. He avers, with full knowledge of the fate of Ananias for telling a lie, that he could have scraped off four quarts of them from his person and the beast he rode. The \voodtick was worthy of note for his patient in- dustrj^ and the quiet manner in which he fulfilled his mis- sion. He did not make any fuss, like the mosquito, to give warning of his designs and enable his victim to take pre- ventive measures. He had a most persistent way of getting in under one's clothes. When a southern tick made up his mind to have a taste of Yankee, access to the body was not difficult through the holes in the garments left by the tailor, or those resulting from the \vear and tear of the service. Then he would look around to find some ten- der spot, and settle down to his work. The victim was not often aware of his presence until he had burrowed nearly or quite under the skin. He could easily get there in the course of a night, for the tick neither slumbered nor 258 THE QUIET WOODTICK. slept. On getting uj) in the morning the soldier would feel, perhaps on the arm or the fleshy part of the leg, an itching sensation. Applyinghis hand tothespot,he would detect a small lump that he instinctively felt did not belong there. In fact, after a little experience he would know right away that he "had a woodtick." The insect's industrious habits made it desirable to muster him out of the Confederate service as soon as possible. There was no telling where he would not plow his way if left free to carry on his little campaign. So the sufferer would A FEW OLD ACQUAINTANCES. at once prepare for an inspection by taking off his shirt or trousers, according to the location of the lump. If it hap- pened to be aro.und where he could not reach it, he would get a comrade to diagnose the case and apply the remedy. If the tick had only his head under the skin, it was not a difficult matter. A grasp with thumb and finger and a quick jerk would separate the blood-distended body from the head, leaving the latter to be removed bv a little heroic treatment with a jack-knife. The woodtick never let go, and could not be drawn out any more easily than a fish ' CONCERNING THE "jIGGER." 259 hook after it has entered past the barb. He could only be disposed of by pulling him in two and getting rid of him in sections. Occasionally one burrowed so far that the knife of the surgeon was found necessary. The woodtick is not venomous. It is not likely that he ever killed any- body, but he was an unmitigated nuisance. That exasperating insect commonly known as the "jig- ger," could make as much trouble for his size as any of the pests that disturbed the peace of mind and bod}^ of the sol- dier. The only redeeming feature about the jigger was that he was confined to certain localities, and did not insist on sticking by and traveling right along with the soldiers, like the vengeful pediculus. Whenever they camped w^here he was, he would do all in his power to make it lively and interesting, but when they rolled up their blankets and moved away, he stayed behind. The jigger dwelt chiefly among the leaves on the ground and in the bark of old logs. •If the camp was kept thoroughly policed, there was comparatively little trouble from this source. The correct orthography of the name, according to the books, is "chigoe." The big dictionaries, however, allow "jigger," and this sounds more natural than the other. The jigger is a very small insect, often not more than half as large as the head of a pin. When the soldiers remem- ber how much he could do, small as he was, toward mak- ing life a burden, their hearts are filled with gratitude that the jigger wasn't any bigger. The fact is there were two or three wholly different insects, about equally pestifer- ous, which were grouped under the convenient name of "jiggers." One of them was of a bright red color, and so small that a person had to look twice to see him. But there was no trouble in feeling him after he had made his way under the skin, causing a keen smarting sensation that — when a man had half a dozen of them at once — "Would almost drive him frantic. The soldiers often got 260 THE WICKED FLEA. up ill the night and lighted a candle or torch to hunt jiggers. This category would be incomplete without the nimble flea — the kangaroo of the insect world. The peculiarity of the flea is his jumping propensity, and the consequent difficulty of catching him. In this respect the flea is wiser and smarter than his fellows. Most of the bugs and in- sects that pester the human family become so absorbed in their biting and blood-sucking that they are wholly obliv- ious of personal safety. While they are gorging themselves they think of nothing else, till there comes a well-directed slap,' and they are no more. But it isn't so with the flea — "put your finger on him and he isn't there." He is a be- liever in the Hudibrastic theory, that He who bites and runs away May live to laite another day. He keeps the danger flag flying when upon his forays, and if his quick eye detects a hostile demonstration he gives one of those jumps that have made his name a proverb. There are said to be ten distinct varieties of fleas, infesting different animals. The one known as the "human flea," is very fastidious in his tastes. He does not like the flavor of dog or mule, and preys onh' upon the human race. It is not often that he gets so good a chance as the army afforded him. At some times and places the fleas were ex- ceedingly annoying, infesting clothing, blankets and old straw, biting and hopping around in a waythat was most trying to the temper. It was their agility in getting a\vay that made a soldier mad in spite of himself Even after the lapse of more than twenty j^ears, it is impossible for him to think of the army flea with anj^ degree of calmness. The ' ' black fly " is scarcely an eighth of an inch in length, but he is gifted with wonderful abilities in the way of an- noying man or beast. The soldiers rarely found them in the open country or on high ground, but in the swamps THE TARANTULA. 261 and canebrakes they were terrible. Their peculiar method of torture was to get into the ears and nose — and the mouth, if it was not kept tightly closed — and bore and bite and buzz until the victim was well-nigh crazed. Horses and mules were sometimes so beset by countless thousands of these tiny insects, that they became almost unmanageable in their desperate efforts to escape from their tormentors. When circumstances compelled a body of troops to bivouac among the black flies, there was no sleep worth mentioning for anybody. The repulsive and deadly tarantula is too large to be called an insect and may be classed among reptiles. It is an exaggerated spider, frequentl}- reaching the size of a man's hand. Its bite is venomous and often fatal. Com- paratively few of the northern soldiers formed its ac- quaintance, as it is only found in the extreme southern portion of the United States, and rarely outside of Texas. It lives in the ground and comes out of its hole to wandei about in quest of prey. When the camps were thoroughly policed out to the guard-line, the tarantula did not often find his way across the beat. It was common to meet tarantulas when walking over the prairie, but they could always be killed without difficult}^ It is well known that copious draughts of whisky are considered an antidote for the bite of a venomous reptile. For a few days after reac|jing Texcis the soldiers \vorked the tarantula for all it w^as worth. One of them would prick his foot or hand with a knife, just enough to bring the blood, and then he would start on a wild run for the doctor's tent, shouting that he had been bitten by a "tarantler." The doctor would pour whisk}^ down his throat until he had filled him up, and the man would go away happ^^ This worked very nicely until the trick was discovered. CHAPTER XX. Si has Some Practical Lessons in the Duties of a Corporal. THE chevrons on Si Klegg's arms had raised him sev- . eral degrees in the estimation of not only himself, but the other members of the compan3\ His conduct in the skirmish had shown that he had in him the material for a good soldier, and even the orderly began to treat him with that respect due to his new rank as one of the "non- commish." Like every other man who put on the army blue and marched away, "with gay and gallant tread," Si could not tell whether he was going to amount to anything as a soldier until he had gone through the test of being under fire. There w^ere man\' men who walked very erectly, talked bravely, drilled well, and made a fine appearance on dress parade, before they reached "the front,'-' who wilted at the "zip "of bullets like tender corn blades nipped by an untimely frost. A good many continued in that wilted condition. Some of them wore straps on their shoulders. It must be confessed that Si was somewhat unduly elated over his achievements as a skirmisher and his success in starting up the steep hill of military rank and fame. It is true it wasn't much of a fight they had that day, but he thought it was pretty fair for a beginning, and enough to prove to both himself and his comrades that he wouldn't be one of the "coffee coolers " when there was business oa hand. 263 SI AS COKPC24AL OF THE GUARD. 26o "Corporal Klegg, you will go on duty to-night with the camp-guard!" said the orderly one evening as the 200th Indiana went into bivouac, a few days after Si had been promoted. Si responded with ready promptness. He had walked a beat once or twice as a common tramp, and had not found it particularly pleasant, especially in stormy weather; but now he was a peg higher, and he thought as corporal he would have a better time. He had already observed that the rude winds of army life were tempered, if not to the shorn lambs, at least to the officers, in a degree propor- tionate to their rank. The latter had the first pick of everything, and the men took what w^as left. The officers always got the softest rails to sleep on, the hardtack that was least infested b}' worms, the bacon that had the few- est maggots, and the biggest trees in a fight. "Forw^ard — March!" shouted the officer in command, w^hen the detachment was ready. Si stepped off very proudly, thinking how glad his good old mother and sister Maria and pretty Annabel would be if they could see him at that moment. He was determined to discharge his official duties with rigorous fidelit}^ and make the boys stand around and toe the mark in the most approved manner. When the guards reached the place selected for head- quarters, the officer briefly lectured them in regard to their duties, impressing upon them the necessity of being alert. There w^as onh^ a thin picket-line between them and the enemy. The safety of the arm}- depended upon the faith- fulness of those appointed to watch while others slept. He gave them the countersign, "Bunker Hill," and ordered them under no circumstances to allow an^' person to pass without giving it, not even the commanding general him- self. Then the "beats" were laid off and nuinbered, and the guards posted, and as the fast-gathering shadows deep- 264 HE WAS INCORRUPTIBLE. ened among the trees the sentinels paced to and fro around the tired army. For an hour or two after the guards were stationed all was quiet along the line. The noise of the great camp was hushed for the night, and no sound broke the stillness of the gloomy forest. The moon arose and peeped timidly through the branches. " Corporal of the guard — Beat number six !" Si's quick ear, as he lay curled up at the foot of a tree, caught these words, rapidly repeated by one sentinel aftei another. It was his first summons. He sprang to his feet,, gun in hand, his heart beating at the thought of adven ture, and started on the run for "beat number six." "What's tip?" he said to the guard, \vith a perceptible tremor in his voice. "There's one o' the boys tryin' to run the guards! " was the answer. "He's been out foragin, I reckon. He's got a lot o' plunder he wants to git into camp with. See him, out there in the bush ?" The forager, for such he proved to be, was nimbly dodg- ing from tree to tree, watching for a chance to cross the line, but the alertness of the guards had thus far kept him outside. He had tried to bribe one or two of the boys by offering to " whack up " if they would let him pass, or give him the countersign so that he could get in at some other point in the cordon. But the guards were incorrupti- ble. They were "fresh" and had not j-et learned the scheme of accepting an offered chicken, a juicy section of pig, or a few sweet potatoes, and then walking off to the remote limit of the beat, with eyes to the front, while the forager shot across the line in safety. All this came to them in the fullness of time. The raider tried in vain to negotiate with Si. Ra,ising his gun to a "ready," the corporal ordered the man to come in or he would put a bullet through him The best thing to do under the circumstances w^as to obey. The A SC^UARE MEAL FOR THE COLONEL. 265 ^orager, who belonged to Si's company, crept up to Corpo- ral Klegg and in a conciliatory tone opened a parley. 'You jest lenime in 'n' you may have yer pick o' this stuff," said he, holding up a fowl in one hand and a ham. in the other. "It'll be all right, and nobody '11 never know nothin' 'bout it!" Si hesitated; it w^as an assault upon his weak point. The offer was a tempting one, but he remembered his re- sponsibility to his country, and his stomach appealed in vain. Duty came before stewed chicken or roasted spare- rib. "Can'tdoit!"saidSi. "Ye've got hold o' thew^rongman this time. I ain't goin' to have nobody monkeyin' 'round while I'm corporal o' this 'ere guard. Come 'long 'th me, 'n' step out lively, too!" Si marched the culprit back and delivered him up to the officer, who commended Si for his fidelity. The officer sent the prisoner to regimental headquarters, and the next day the ground back of the colonel's tent was strewn with feathers, chicken bones, ham rinds and potato skins, while the unlucky forager who had provided the field offi- cers' mess with such a royal meal had to carry a rail for • two hours. An hour later Si had another experience. The captain of Company Q felt a kindly interest, and not a little pride, in him, since the skirmish, and thought he would take a turn that night and see whether his newly-made corporal was "up to snuff.'' "Beat number three' was Si's second call. As he ap- proached the guard the latter said : "Corporal, here's the cap'n, and he wants to in! He ' hain't got the countersign ; shall I pass him ? " "Good evening. Corporal!" said the captain, as Si came up, at the same time extending his hand. Si was thrown completely off his guard. Dropping the butt of his gun carelessly to the ground he replied cheerily, 266 THE CAPTAIN "PLAYED IT ON" HIM. "Good evenin', Cap'n," touching liis hat by way of salute. Then he took the proffered hand, pleased at the captain's mark of kindly recognition. He didn't understand the •dark plot against his official integrity. "How are you getting on, Mr. Klegg?" "Fust rate!" said Si, with the air of one conscious that he has done his duty well. "I captured a forager a little bit ago and took him to headquarters!' "Well done, Corporal. I have no doubt you will honor the good name of the 200th Indiana in general, and Com- pany in particular. I got caught outside to-night, and I want to get back into camp. Of course you know me and it's all right!" " Certainly, sir ! " said Si, as he stood leaning on his gun, and allowed the offi- cer to pass the magic line. " Oood night, Cap'n!" "Good night. Cor- poral !" ' ' By the way, ' ' said the captain, retracing his steps, "I notice that you do not carry your gun just right. Let me show you how to handle it !" Si didn't know what a flagrant offense it was for a sol- dier on guard to let his gun go out of his hands ; nor had he the faintest suspicion that the captain was "playing it" on him. So he promptly handed his piece to the officer who immediately brought it down to a " charge, " with the bayonet at Si's breast. CORPORAL KLEGG GETS CAUGHT. A BAD BREAK. 267 *' Suppose, now, I was a rebel in disguise," said the cap- tain, "what kind of a fix would you be in? " Light began to dawn upon Si, and he started back in terror at the thought of the mistake he had made. "Of course, I wouldn't let anybody else have it," he stammered ; "but I knowed you, Cap'n ! " "That makes no difference to a man on dut}^ CorjDoral. You hang on to your gun the rest of the night, and if any- body — I don't care who it is — insists on your giving it to him, let him have two or three inches of your bayonet. Don't let anybody pass without the countersign, either! Come to my quarters when you are relieved to-morrow." All this illustrates a way the officers had of testing new soldiers and teaching them a thing or two, when, as was frequently the case, they were not yet up to the mark. A trick of extra duty for the hapless novitiate was generally the penance for his simplicity. The cold chills ran up and dowm Si's back as he took his gun and slowly returned to the guard-fire. He felt that he had utterly spoiled his good record. "Lieutenant,' he said to the officer, "I wish ye'd please detail a man to kick me for about an hour! " The lieutenant wanted to know what the matter was, and Si told him all about it, ending with : " Sonow I s pose Cap '11 yank the stripes off'nmy blouse !" The officer quieted his fears by assuring him that there was no cause for alarm. The captain knev^' that he was trj'ing to do his duty, and what he had done was for Si's own good. Si sat down by the fire and was thinking it over when there was another call, "Corporal of the guard ! " He was soon at the point indicated, and found two officers on horseback, whom he recognized as the colonel and adju- tant of the 200th Indiana. Si's pard. Shorty-, was the guard who had halted them. "Now, Corporal Klegg," said Si to himself, laj-ing his 268 HOW THE COLONEL GOT THE COUNTERSIGN. finger alongside his nose, "you jest watch out this time. Here's big game ! Shouldn't wonder if them ossifers 'd been out skylarkin', 'n' the^^'re tryin' to git in. Don't ye let 'em fool ye 's the cap'n did ! " Si was right in his surmise. The colonel and adjutant had been enjo^nng a good supper at a house half a mile awa}^ and had not the faintest idea what the counter- sign was. Si was determined not to get caught this time. As he ap- proached, thecolonel saw that it was the soldier he had com- mended for his gal- lantry at the time of the skirmish. " Ah, Corporal Klegg, I'm glad to see you so prompt in your duty. I was sure we had made no mistake when we promoted you. Of course, you can see "not 'less ye say 'bunker hill!'" who I am. I'm your colonel, and this is the adjutant. We are, unfortunately, outside without the countersign; but you canjustletus through.'' The "taffy" had no effect upon Si. He brought himself into a' hostile attitude, with his bayonet in fair range of the officer, as he replied : "Colonel, my orders is ter pass no livin' man 'less he says 'Bunker Hill.' I'd be glad ter do ye a good turn, but SI MAKES ANOTHER MISTAKE. 269 there's no usetalkin'. I'm goin'ter 'be}' orders, 'n' ye can't git in here." The colonel chuckled softly as he dismounted and came up to Si. "It's all right," he said. "Of course I know what the countersign is. I was only trying you." "Hold on, there," said Si, "don't come too close. If ye've got the countersign, advance 'n' give it. If ye hain't got it, I'll jest call the ossifer o' the guard ! " Leaning over the point of Si's bayonet the colonel gently whispered "Bunker Hill!" "Correct! " said Si, and bringing his gun to a "shoulder" he respectfully saluted the colonel. The latter started to remount, but turned back as he said : "Just let me show you how to hold your gun. You don't " "Not ef the court knows herself," said Si, again mena- cing the colonel with his bayonet. "That's been played on me once to-night, and if anybody does it agin my name aintSiKlegg!" "That's right, Corporal," said the colonel, as he sprang into the saddle: "butdon't tell anybody what the counter- sign is again ! Good night ! " "Good night. Colonel," said Si, touching his hat. As the officers rode awa\' Si began to think he had put his foot in it after all. He was confirmed in this opinion by seeing Shorty sit down on a log in a paroxysm of laughter. "Ye give j^erself away had that' time!" said Shorty, as soon as he could speak. "Y/hat did ye tell him the coun- tersign fer?" "Whew-w-w-w!" observed Si, with a prolonged whistle. '*Shorty," said he, "I wish ye'd take a club and see 'f ye can't pound a little sense into me ; I don't b'lieve I've got any!" Without another word he shouldered his gun and returned to the guard headquarters, in a very uncomfor- 270 NO DANGER THIS TIME. table frame of mind. "Now I'm a goner, sure!" lie said to himself. "Corporal of the guard!" was heard again, sometime after midnight. "If thej^ try any more measly tricks on mc to-night somebody '11 git hurt ! " thought Si as he walked briskly along the line in response to the call. This time it was a "contraband" — an old negro, who stood shivering with terror as the guard held him at the point of the bayonet. Recalling the unlucky adventures of the night, Si imagined that it was one of the officers, who had black- ened himself like a min- strel, and had come there purposely to " catch " him. "Ye can't git through 'nless ye've got the countersign, "he said de- cisively; "and I shan't give it to ye, nuther! And ye needn't try ter show me how ter hold my gun I I kin handle it well enough ter shoot and punchthebay'net!" SI AND THE CONTRABAND. '< Dou' kuOW what dat all means, boss," said the frightened negro; "butfer de good Lawd's sake don't shove dat t'ing frew me. Ise only been ober to de nex' place to er possum roast and Ise jist gwine home. I didn't know dese yer ge-yards was heah!" Si didn't propose to take any chances, and so he marched the old negro to the guard headquarters and delivered him to the officer, who kept him till daylight, and then suffered him to go his wav. THEV KILLED HIM. 271 Once more, toward morning, Si was called out, in addi- tion to his tramps with the "reliefs" and the "grand rounds." It was, perhaps, an hour before daylight, and Shorty was the guard who called him. He told Si there was something walking around in the woods, and he be- lieved it was a rebel trying to creep up on them. He had challenged two or three times, but got no answer. The moon had gone down, and in the dark wood objects at any distance could not be distinguished. " There, d'j^e hear that?" said Shorty, as there came a sound of crackling sticks and rustling leaves. " Halt ! " exclaimed Si. "Who comes there?" There v^as no re- sponse, and Si chal- , lenged again, with like result. "Shorty," said Si, "let's fire, both to- gether," and crack went their muskets. For a moment there was a great flounder- ing, and then all was still. As soon as it was light, and Shorty w^as relieved, he and Si w^ent out to see the result of their fire. What they found is shown by the artist. On the whole it w^as a busy and interesting night for Si. He did not lose his chevrons on account of his mistakes. But he learned something, and the lesson was impressed upon his mind by a fewkindly words of caution and advice from the captain. A DEAD SHOT. CHAPTER XXI. Sr HAS A Varied Experience in Camp, and Goes upon an Exasper- ating "Wild Goose Chase." C C"\ 70U can take it easy to-day, boys, for we ain't goin" j[ to move," said the orderly of Company Q, one morning. "The orders is for to j)ut the camp in nice shape, and for the men to wash up. We're goin' to have an ex- tra ration of soap this inornin', and you fellows v^-a-nt to stir around lively and fix yerselvesas if it was Sunday and ye was goin' to meetin'. The fust thing after breakfast all hands '11 turn out and police the camp, 'cause the capt'n says we're goin' to stay here, mebbe, fer two or three weeks." The order to "take it easy" was most gratefully re- ceived. Ever since they took the field they had been kept " on the jump," with only now and then a brief halt of a few hours, or a day at most. This was the first time that even an attempt had been made to establish a well-ordered camp. "What 'n the world did the ord'ly mean by p'leecin' the camp?" Corporal Klegg asked Shorty, as they stood by the fire making coffee and warming up some fragments of chicken that had been left over from supper the night be- fore. "I didn't s'pose," said Si. "that we 'listed to be p'leecemen!' As soon as breakfast was over the orderly directed each man to provide himself with a small bundle of sticks, made 272 ANOTHER INDIGNITY. 273 bj putting together a dozen bits of brnsh or "switches" three or four feet long, such as are used by rural pedagogs to enforce discipline. These were the implements used in policing camp, which meant brushing the leaves and loose debris outside the grounds. "Does corporils have to do that sorto' thing?'' asked Si. He thought army regulations and camp usage ought to she w^ some consideration for his rank. "What's the use o' wearin' stripes," he said to himself, "ef it don't give a feller a chance to play off once 'n a while?" "Corporals ain't no better 'n anybody else," replied the orderly, " an' you can jest git some brush and go to work, 'long with the rest!" Si was disposed to grumble a little, but he <|i obeyed orders and was W'^ soon scratching up the J^v leaves and dust with, ^ great zeal. He did not find it a particularly pleasant occupation,^:- but the camp looked so " much better when the job was done, that he thought it was not a bad thing after all. "Now, Si," said Shorty, "let's go down to the creek and do our w^ashin'. My clothes has got to be biled, and I shouldn't wonder if j^ourn had, too !" "Yes, that's a fact !" said Si, sadly. They took a camp-kettle that had been used, and no doubt would be again, for making bean-soup, and started for the stream back of the camp. They had no change of clothing wath them. One by one their surplus garments had been flung away during the march, or had been POLICING ' CAMP. 274 A LITTLE EXERCISE. "traded^' to the natives for poultr^^ They expected to have an opportunitj' to stock up for the winter when the campaign was over. •'Fall in for battalion drill!" These cruel words fell upon their ears just as they were starting for the stream. The colonel had suddenly bethought himself that it would be a good idea to put the boys through for an hour. He told the adjutant to turn out the regiment, and the rattle of drums and the yells of the orderly sergeants carried dismay to the hearts of the men. They had had just enough battalion drill, during the halts, to acquire a chronic aversion to it that never forsook them. "So that's the kind of an 'easy time' we're goin' ter have to-day!" exclaimed Si, as he and Shorty turned back in response to the summons. "Ef there 's anything 't I hate the wust, it's battalion drill. I sh'd think the col- onel might let up on us a leetle 'n' give the skin a chance to grow ag'in on our feet." There was a general chorus of grumbling as the men geared themselves up and took their places in line. The colonel galloped them around in the various regimental evolutions, winding up with a wild charge upon a hypothetical line of intrenchments that left everybody, except the officers who were on horseback, panting and breathless. Then the regiment was dismissed for the day, after the cheering announcement that while they remained in camp there would be four drills daily. Shorty proposed to his comrade that they make their projected trip to the creek, but Si's attention was absorbed in another direction. The camp was fast filling with peo- ple, black and white, from the region round about, with corn "pones, "alleged pies, boiled eggs and truck of various kinds, which they sought to dispose of for a valuable con- sideration. They struck a bad crowd, however, in a finan- cial sense. The members of the 200th Indiana were not AN INVESTMENT IN PIE. 275 at this time in a condition of opulence, as they had not been out long enough to receive a visit from the paymaster. The lank men and scrawny women cried their w^ares vo- ciferously, but wath indifferent results. The boys wanted the stuff, but they were "broke " and trade was dull. Si looked wistfullj^atthe "jjies," and suggested to Shorty a joint investment. Their purses w^ere almost empty, but the temptation was great, and he thought they might raise enough to buy one. "Them looks nice," said Si. The}^ were the first pies he had seen since leaving home, and his judgment was a little warped. Indeed it w^as only by the greatest stretch of courtesy that they could be called pies at all. But the 'word touched Si in a tender spot, and he thought only of such as his mother used to make. Si and Shorty "pooled in" and bought a pie. Impa- tiently whipping out his pocket knife Si tried to cut it in two. It was hard work, for the "crust" — so called — was as tough as the hide of a mule. By their united efforts they at length succeeded in sawing it asunder. It was a fearful and w'onderful specimen of culinary effort. It was made of tw^o slabs of sodden, leathery dough, wath a thin layer of stewed dried-apple sandwiched between them. Si tried his teeth on the pie, but it was like tr^'ing to chew^ an old boot-leg. "I say, oldlady,'' said he, turningtothe female of whom he had bought it, "is these pies pegged er sewed ? " "Look a hyar, young feller," said the w^oman, with con- siderable vinegar in her tone, "p'raps you-all thinks it's right smart to insult we-uns; it shows how yer w^uz broughten up. I don't 'low^ yer ever seed an}- nicer dog- goned pies 'n them is. Ye needn't try ter argefy 'long 'th m^, fur I kin jest knock the spots off 'n any woman thar is 'round here a-cookin'." Si saw that it would be profitless to discuss the matter. 276 WHY THE FLOW OF CIDER STOPPED. and concluded to make the best of a bad bargain. But he couldn't eat the pie. On the whole the hucksters fared rather badly. The boys confiscated most of the stuff that was brought in, promising to pay next time they came that vv^ay. There was a good deal of friction, but the trouble always ended in the soldiers getting the plunder. The climax was reached when a putty-faced citizen drove into camp a bony mule, tied with straps and ropes and strings to a crazy cart, on which was a barrel of cider, which he "allowed" to sell out to the boys at ten cents a drink, or a quarter acanteen full. He had a spigot rigged in one end, and an old tin cup, with which he dealt out the seductive beverage to such as would buy. A thirsty crowd gathered around him, but sales were slow, on account of the scarcity of money. Si and Shorty mingled with the bo\^s, and then drew^ aside and engaged in a whispered consultation. "That'll be jest bully!" said Shorty. "Ef ye kin raise an auger somewhere we'll bamboozle that old chap." Si returned after a brief absence, with an auger which he had borrowed from the driver of an ammunition wagon. "Now, Short}^," said Si, "\^ou git the boA's ter stand 'round 'n' keep up a racket, and 111 crawl under the cart and bore a hole inter that 'ere bar'l. Then pass in yer canteens and camp kettles 'n' we'll show the old man a trick!" Shorty quietly broached the scheme to a few of his com- rades, who fell in with it at once. Gathering around the cart they cheered and chattered so as to drown any noise Si might make while carrying out his plan, and w^hich would "give it awa3^" It was not more than a minute till a gurgling sound was heard, and Si began to jDass out to the boys the buckets and canteens, which they so freeh^ furnished him, filled with the fast-flowing contents of the barrel. It did not take jtW INDIGNANT CITIZEN. 277 long to empty it entirelj^, nor did the citizen discover the state of affairs until the cider no longer ran from the spigot. He had not sold more than a gallon or two, and was amazed when the liquid ceased to respond. Then he re- solved himself into an investigating committee, and after a protracted search he discovered the fraud that had been played on him. "Wall, I'll be gosh-durned!" he exclaimed, "I've heern tell 'bout Yankee tricks, but dog mj^ cats if this 'ere don't beat 'em all ! I'd like to cut the gizzard outen the rascal that bored the hole 'n that bar'l!" "a little more cider, too." "I declar', old pard, that iras mean!" said Si, who stood looking on, with his hands in his trousers' pockets, the picture of innocence. "I'm jest goin' ter flax 'round 'n' help ye find that feller. If I was j ou I'd jest wallop him — when ye cotch him !" The citizen, in high dudgeon, poured into the ears of the colonel the stor^' of his grievance, protesting ^vith great vehemence his lo\'alty to the old flag. The colonel told him that if he could identify the culprits they should be brought to justice. Of course he could do nothing, and he 278 A WELCOME LUXURY. finally mounted his cart and drove away with the empty barrel . "Ef that old covey loves his country 's much 's he says he does," remarked Si, "I guess he kin Yord ter give her a bar'l o" cider!" After dinner Si and Shorty took the camp-kettle and again started for the stream. "Seems ter me," observed Si, " 'tain't hardly a fair shake for Uncle Sam ter make us do our washin'. They'd orter confisticate the niggers n' set them at it ; er I don't see why the guvyment can't furnish a washin' masheen for each comp'ny! 'Tvvouldn't be no more 'n the squar' thing!" "The wimmen does the washin', ye know, Si, up whar we live," said Shorty, ""n' I don't quite like the notion o' doin' that kind o' work, but I can't jest see how we're goin' ter git out of it. It's got ter be done, that's sure !" On the bank of the stream thej^ qviickly threw off their clothes for a bath. Si cast rueful glances at his garments as he laid them on the ground. "Hadn't we better pile some rocks on 'em, Shorty?" said he. "I'm afeard 'f we don't they'll crawl off inter the bush." "Guess we had," replied Short}-. "I b'lieve mine's started a-ready!" Having made sure that they would not find them "absent without leave" when they wanted them, they plunged into the water. Far up and down the stream were hundreds of men, swimming and splashing about. The soldiers availed themselves of every opportunity to enjoy this luxury. Having thoroughly performed their ablutions, Si and Short}^ turned their attention to the clothes, which were in such sore need of soap and hot water. Putting their trousers into the kettle and filling it with \vater, they built a roaring fire under it. After half an hour of vigorous SI TRIES AN EXPERIMENT. 279 boiling they concluded the clothes were "done.'" Plentv of soap, rubbing and rinsing finished the work, and they presented a quite respectable appearance. "How 're we goin' ter git 'em dry?" asked Si as he w^rung out his "wash." "Hang 'em on the fence in the sun ! " replied Shortj^ " But what'll we wear while thej-'re dryin' ? " "Nothin', I reckon!" So they spread them on the rails, put their shirts into the kettle, and then dashed ^ ^ again into the water. ,^^^^^^^^^^^^/^ After splashing awhile ^C"?^ 1^?/? thc}^ came out and drew f 'w'^ yi ^'P^ on their half-dried trou- ^ ^j sers. All along the -^STli stream w^ere soldiers in every stage of disha- bille, similarly engaged. J Shorty lighted his pipe as he and Si lay down \| upon the grass, after making a fresh fire un- der the kettle. " Sa}^ Shorty," said ig„,c-^.^=_— -^ -^="^0 Si, " 'tain't very wacked y^^a3^^^^^^^^ ter smoke, is it?" "Guess not I'Svas the ---^ - ' 'r-^- _ :>ie*' reply. '^'^^ army laundry. "That's the w-a}^ it 'pears ter me, 'n' I've been kinder thinkin' lately that I'd larn how. The soljers all seems ter enjoy their smokin' so much. You know, Short3% that I was alius a reel good bo}- — never smoked, nor chawed ter- backer, nor cussed, nor done nothin' that was out o' the straight an' narrer way. When I jined the rijiment my good old mother saj^s to me: 'Now, Si,' saj^s she, 'I do hopeye'll 'member what I've alwaj^s taught ye. I've heern 280 THE USUAL RESULT 'em tell that they does drefful things in the army, ai\d I want ye to see if ye can't be as good a boy as yeVe been at home.' Of course I told her I would, 'n' I mean ter stick to it; but I don't b'lieve she'd keer 'f ] sh'd smoke. Is it hard ter learn ? " ''Wall, I d'know; ye can't most always tell till ye try. Take a whiff, and see how she goes. I reck'n ef ye go through the war 'n' don't larnnuthinwuss'nsmokin', ye'll do purty well." And Shorty handed him his pipe, which he had just refilled with whittlings of black plug. "I b'lieve I'll jest try it,'' said Si. "I s'pose I kin quit easy 'nough, 'f I want ter, when I go home." He took the pipe and began to puff with great energy. He made a few wry faces at first, but Shorty told him to stick to it, and he bravely pulled awaj^, while the clouds of smoke curled above him. Soon the color left his face, his head was in a whirl, and his stomach began to manifest eruptive symptoms. "Short3%" he gasped, "I'm av^fulsick. If smokin' makes a feller feel like this, I don't want any more of it in mine." "Whar's all yer sand ye brag so much 'bout? " said Shorty, laughing. " Ye're mighty poor timber for a soljer if ye can't stan' a little pipe o' terbacker like that. Ye'll get over it purty soon, and it won't bother ye any next time ye try it." Si found that he had about as much as he could manage with his dizzy head and the internal rebellion that was so actively going on. He rolled and writhed about in a state of abject misery. Suddenly there came from the camp a sound that brought Shorty to his feet. "Hello, Si," he shouted, "don't ye hear the drums rat- tlin' 'n' the bugles tootin' ? Ther's suthin upfer sure. Git vp, pard, we'll have ter skin out o' here right quick!" From far and near the alarm came to their ears, and on A WILD RUSH FOR CAMP. 181 every hand were seen half-dressed officers and men running toward their respective regiments. Shorty seized the kettle in which the shirts were being boiled, turned out the water, and dashed toward camp. Si followed as fast as he was able, though his head seemed to spin like a top. The exercise made him feel bet- ter, and by the time he reached the regiment he had nearly recovered. Officers were shouting "Fall in!'' and orderlies were tearing around in frantic zeal urging the men to "be lively." rnWmmvmK A SCAMPER IN DISHABILLE. There was no time to ask or answer the questions that were in everybody's mouth in regard to the cause of the sudden alarm. "What '11 we do 'bout our shirts?'' asked Si of his com- rade. "How 's a feller goin' ter march 'n this kind of a fix?" "We'll have ter tote 'em 'long t'll we git a chance ter cool 'em off 'n' put em on," replied Shorty. "Git into yer olouse 'n' sling on 3'er traps, quick ""s ever ye kin !" 282 THE DELUSION OF "FIXING UP." Just before stepping into ranks Si and Shorty fished their steaming and dripping shirts out of the kettle and hung them on their bayonets. They cut a grotesque figure, and were the target of man}' a jest from those of their com- rades who had not been similarly caught. At the first halt they managed to put on their shirts, and resumed the march in a most uncomfortable condition. They had rea- son to repent their attempt to check the ravages of the pediculi. A small detail from each comjiany was ordered to re- main to strike the tents, load the wagons, and serve as a guard for the train. The hastily formed column filed out upon the road and started off at a plunging gait. "Is this what they calls havin' 'n easy day, thrashin' 'round on battalion drill, 'n' then marchin' off 't a hoss- trot?" said Si, struggling and puffing in his efforts to keep his place in the ranks. " The^^ said we was goin' ter stay awhile 'n that camp 'n' git rested up. Looks like it, don't it?^' "The best way fer ye ter do," replied Shorty, "is jest ter b'lieve nothin' 't anybody tells ye 'n the army. 'Tain't half the time 't the ossifers knows theirselves, 'n'ef they do like as not they'll tell ye t'other way. Soljerin' 's queer kind o' business!" This was not the last time that the men of the 200th Indiana, after fixing up a nice camp under the delusive be- lief that they were going to "take it easy ' for a few days or weeks, had their work for nothing. Sometimes in mid- summer they put up awnings of boughs over their tents to temper the sun's fierce heat ; or in winter they built fire- places and chimneys of brick or stones or sticks and clay, which added greatly to the comfort of their frail tenements. "Marching orders" were usually delayed until just as these improvements were finished, but if, within twenty-four hours after this, the regiment did not "pull out" it was an exception to the rule. An order for the men to put the camp A DUSTY TRAMP. 283 in good shape and make themselves comfortable, came to be considered as the equivalent of an order to move — if it was only over to the next field, where all the work had to be done over again. The rushing column swept on with undiminished speed, halting a few minutes at long intervals for the panting soldiers to get their breath. The shuffling of manj^feet on the dry limestone road filled the air with a thick cloud of dust that enveloped the men, covering their garments, en- tering their eyes, mouths and noses, and clinging to their sweating faces. A soldier could not recognize the muddy countenance of his nearest comrade. Knapsacks and car- tridge boxes grew heav}^ and the straps and belts ground the dust into the smarting flesh. At sundown there was a halt of half an hour. The men were directed to make coffee and brace themselves for an all-night march. They washed the dirt from their hands and faces, lighted fires, and hurriedly prepared their even- ing meal. Wild rumors flew from mouth to mouth that they would charge upon a large body of the enemy at day- light, and the rising sun would no doubt look upon a bloody scene of carnage. These were the more readily be- lieved from the fact that such a furious march was con- sidered prima facie evidence that something extraordinary was about to happen, and it was more likely to be a fight than anything else. It was nearly dark when the column was again formed. Backs and shoulders and legs were already aching, and hearts sank at the prospect of the long, wear^^ night's tramp; but nerved by the thought of a battle the men of the 200th stepped firmly and briskly, bent on keep- ing up with the veterans who were stretching ahead of them, and out of the way of those who were close upon their heels. Again the cloud of dust enveloped them, hang- ing heavily in the damp night air, through which they 284 AN ALL-NIGHT MARCH. groped their way. Covered with a mantle of white thej looked like a procession of ghosts as they plodded on. Nine o'clock — ten — eleven — midnight, and on they march, with now and then a few minutes of rest. The officers speak words of sympathy and encouragement to the toil- ing men. It is a critical emergency and they must keep in their places. How the muscles twinge with pain, and wliat torture to the tender leet as thty tread, hour after hour, the hard pike! No laugh or jest is heard. Save an occasional moan or cry extorted by keen suffering, there is no sound but the clatter of horses' hoofs upon the flinty road and the ceaseless tramp — tramp — of the tottering soldiers. One — two — three o'clock, and still "forward" is the •word. Exhausted and bent and racked with pain, the burdened forms mechanically drag themselves along. Overcome by fatigue and drowsiness men fall asleep and march in their dreams. They stumble one against an- other and in this rude way are brought back to con- sciousness. Sometimes they are awakened by rolling into the ditch by the roadside, or coming in collision with pro- truding fence-rails. * During the night there was no opportunity for refresh- ment except such as could be derived from the dry hard- tack, eaten on the march or at the halts by the wayside. Morning dawi.ed at length, upon a struggling mass of men, fainting and footsore, exhausted to the verge of human endurance. The column halted and was formed in order of battle. The 200th Indiana appeared to be all there, but it was in the poorest possible condition for action, if there had been any fight to go into — which of course there was not. It was a hard night for Si Klegg, but Shorty had helped him along by carrying his gun now * It was a common thing, when soldiers went for da^^sand nights with- out rest, for infantrymen to sleep as they marched and cavalrymen a? they rode their horses. MAGNIFICENT STRATEGY. 285 and then, and da^-light found him "here," ready to do anj' thing that was asked of him. It was more severely trying than anything he had been through before. He did not say much ; there was nothing to be said, and he had not a breath to spare for unnecessary words. For two hours the soldiers lay on their arms while the general sent out some men on horseback to reconnoiter. He had heard that several hundred rebel troopers were en- camped in that vicinity, and the brilliant expedition was for the purpose of surprising and capturing them. Part of the Union forces had been marched around so as to close in on all sides of the camp, and it w^as scientifically planned that not a man should escape to tell the tale. But the rebels w^ere gone — and had been for two days. They were only a squad of a few dozen guerrillas, anyway. The 200th Indiana and the rest of the regiments were there ' ' holding the sack," but the game had fled. Then the men w^ere told to stack arms, break ranks, and get their breakfast. Two hours later they started back for the same spot they left in such mad haste the day before. It took them two days to return the thirty miles they had traveled. The wagons, which w^ere met slowly trailing along, were turned about and followed in the rear. When the soldiers reached their camp and pitched their tents on the old ground the}' were physically "used up," and mentalh' in a state of supreme disgust over the inglo- rious result of their impetuous march. Si tried to give Shorty his opinion of such a "wild goose chase,'' but for once language failed him and he said it wasn't an^^ use to try. But he had a good many similar experiences before the war was over, and when he became more skilled in the use of unparliamentary language he succeeded better in ex- pressing his opinions concerning such strategic maneuvers. CHAPTER XXII. Corporal Klegg Gets a Little Practice in Confiscating, has a Vig- orous Colic, and Joins the Procession at Sick-Call. FROM twelve to sixteen miles was an easy day's march. To a person wholly unincumbered this would be no more than a pleasant stroll. But when a soldier, with the burden he was obliged to carry even Avhen stripped of all unnecessary weight, had tramped that distance, he was glad enough to "call it a day." On long journeys, when there was no occasion for haste, the troops were not often pushed to greater speed ; though at critical times, when the need was urgent, thirty and even forty miles were made within twenty-four hours, but it taxed to the utmost the power of endurance. When not under press- ure, it was customary to start early in the day and go into camp by two o'clock. Occasional marches of this kind, with changes of camp, were greatly conducive to health and comfort, and were far preferable to occupying the same ground for months at a time. The soldiers never grumbled at these pilgrimages, unless they weie made in bad weather. Nor did they complain of the severest marching when it was necessary ; but there was a great deal of wild cavorting over the country that, to the untutored mind of the rank and file, seemed wholly needless. It may have been an essential factor in bringing the final victory, but the soldiers could not understand it that way. It sent many men to the hospitals, and seriously impaired the tempers of those who were able to endure it. 2SB THE 200TH BEGINS TO SHRINK. 287 Those regiments were fortunate which were permitted by circumstances to pass gradually through the seasoning process that made men soldiers, capable of enduring the ex- posure and hardships of active campaigning. A harder fate had fallen to the lot of the 200th Indiana. While yet "raw" in the largest sense, it was forced to begin at the "butt end." Its ranks had thinned rapidlj^ In every town through which the army passed, the buildings were turned into hospitals and filled with sick and crippled men from the new regiments, who had fallen by the way. Not half of these ever rejoined their commands for duty. Many regiments were thus as much reduced in a few weeks as others had been in twice as many months. The 200th had jogged along bravely, but had suffered its share of decimation. Not less than a third of its men had " given out," and were taking quinine and blue-mass, and rubbing arnica on their legs along the tortuous route. Corporal Si Klegg and Shorty proved to be "stayers." Full of life and ambition, they were always prompt for duty and ready for a fight or a frolic. No one was more quick than Si to offer a suffering comrade the last drop of fresh water in his canteen, or to give him a lift by carrying part of his load for an hour. One day the regiment started out for a comfortable march. The coast was clear of rebels, and, there being no excuse for crowding on the steam, the boys were allowed to take their own gait, while the horses of the officers and the cavalry had a chance to recover their wind. It was a warm day, late in October. The nights at this time were keen and frosty, but the sun at mid-day still showed much of his summer vigor. Perspiration flowed freely down the faces of those wandering Hoosiers — faces that were fast assuming the color of half-tanned leather under the influence of sunshine and storm. Once an hour there was the customary halt, when the boj's would stretch themselves by the roadside^ hitching 288 PROCLAMATIONS AGAINST FORAGING. their knapsacks vip under their heads. AYIien the allotted time had expired the bugler blew the "fall in," the notes of which during the next two years became so familiar to their ears. All were in good spirits. As the\- marched the}' pelted one another with jests, and laughter rippled along the column. The only thing that troubled them was the emaciated condition of their haversacks, with a corresponding state of affairs in their several stomachs. The commissary department was thoroughly demoralized. The supply train had failed to connect, and rations w^ere almost ex- hausted. There was no prosjDcct that the aching void would be filled, at least in the regular way, for two or three days, until the\' reached a depot of sup^Dlies. At this stage of the war strict orders against foraging were issued almost dail}^ These were often read impres- sively to the men of the 200th Indiana, who, in their sim- plicity, "took it all in " as niilitary gospel. The effect was somewhat depressing upon the ardor with which, other- wise, they would have pursued the panting pig and the fluttering fowl, and reveled in the orchards and jootato- fields. A few irrepressible fellows managed to get a choice meal now and then— just enough to show that the 200th Indiana w^as not \vithout latent talent, wdiich only needed a little encouragement to become fruitful of results. These sounding proclamations against foraging were received by the veterans with less solemnit3^ They had been heard so many times that thc}^ had lost their force. By long and successful practice these old soldiers had be- come skilled in the many ingenious arts by which such rejjulations were evaded. When rations were short the "will" to suppK' the deficiency always found a "way," if there was an^'thing to be had ; or if the appetite craved a change from the monotonous regulation diet, the means to do so were not \vanting. Many a regimental and com- pany officer, who proclaimed these orders to his men, and THE ORDERS GREW STALE. 289 in Avords of thundering sound avowed his determination to enforce them, was moved to condone a flagrant offens by a propitiatory offering of a leg of mutton, a spare-rib, a chicken or a "mess' of sweet potatoes. Indeed, some of the generals seemed to feel that they had filled the measure of duty in the issuance of orders, permitting the soldiers to put their own interpretation upon them. The latter were not slow to construe them in the most liberal man- ner. The new troops proved apt learners. For the first few days, with the orders ringing in their ears, they marched along without daring so much as to pluck an apple. But when thc}^ saw the old soldiers throttling fowls, bayoneting fatlings, and filling their haversacks with the fruit of orchard and field, they naturally felt that there ought to be a more equitable adjustment of things. It was not long till they were able to get their full share of whatever the country afforded. During the earh^ stage of the war the only authorized foraging w^as done in an official way. There w^ere times when supplies for men and animals were necessary. Ex- peditions were sent out under the direction of quarter- masters, who gave receipts for all property taken from loyal men, and these were honored in cash by the govern-' ment. As the armies pushed their way farther into the rebellious states the restrictions upon fence-rails, straw stacks, and forage of every kind fell into what a modern chief magistrate of the nation would call "innocuous desuetude." A year before the war closed thev had prac- tically^ disappeared. The enemy w^as assaulted in purse as well as in person, and if a soldier — or an officer — saw^ any- thing that he needed he " w^ent for it." If he could not see what he wanted he hunted until he found it. On the day in question a few hints w^ere throw^n out to the 200th Indiana which resulted in a tacit understandins that, in view of the actual need of the soldiers, if the}' got a good chance to pick up something the eyes of the officers 290 THE PUCKERING PERSIMMON. would be closed. In fact the latter were as hungry as the men, and hoped to come in for a "divide." Soon after starting in the morning a persimmon tree, well laden with fruit, was seen in a field not far from the road. About fifty men started for it on a run, and in five minutes it was as bare as the barren fig tree. The persimmon has some very marked peculiarities. It is a toothsome fruit when well ripened by frost, but if eaten before it has reached the point of full maturity, the effect upon one's interior is unique and startling. The pungent juices take hold of the mouth and pucker it up in such a manner as to make even speech for a time impossible. The tongue seems as if it were tied in a knot. If the juice be swallowed similar results follow all along its course. But the novice does not often get far enough for that. The boys soon found that the 'simmons, although they looked very tempting, were too green to be eaten with any degree of enjoyment. So they filled their pockets with them to pucker up the mouths of their comrades. Shorty had joined in the scramble, telling his comrade he would bring him a good supply. "Ain't them nice?" he said to Si, holding out three or four of the greenest ones he could find . * ' Eat 'em ; they're jest gorjus ! Ye can't help likin' on 'em ! " Si had never before seer» a persimmon. Eagerly seizing them he tossed one into his mouth and began to chew it vigorously. The persimmon at once took hold with a mighty grip, wrinkling him up like the skins on scalded milk. After sputtering furiously a few minutes, while Shorty laughed at him. Si managed to get his tongue untwisted. "Yes," said he, "them things is nice — in a horn! 'Twouldn't take many on 'em to make a meal ! " A little farther along Si's quick eye noticed a row of bee- hives standing on a bench in the yard of one of the natives. He had a weakness for honey. SI S ADVENTUPE WITH THE BEES. 291 "Shorty," said he, "see them hives over thar? How 'd ye hke ter have some honey fer supper? " Shorty "allowed" that it would be a good thing. Si stopped and waited a few minutes until his own regiment got past, thinking his plan would be less liable to inter- ruption. Then he leaped over the fence, went up to the hives, and boldly tipped one of them over, hoping he could get out a comb or two, fill his coffee-kettle, and effect his retreat before the bees really found out what he was doing. But the bees instantly rallied their forces and made a vigorous assault up- on the invader. Si saw that it would be too hot for him, and '-^ without standing up- on the order of his go- ing he went at once, ^ in a decidedh^ panicky condition. The bees made the most of their opportunity, using their "business ends" on him with great ac- tivity and zeal. They'-^ seemed to fully share the common feeling- in the busy bee, the South toward the "Yanks." A disheveled woman, smoking a cob-pipe, had watched Si's raid from the door-way, with a stormy face. As he fell back in utter rout she screamed, "Sarves ye right!" and then sat down on the doorstep and laughed till she cried. She enjoyed it as much as the bees did. The latter took hold of Si in various places, and by the time he caught up with the regiment one eye Wcis closed, and there was a 292 FORDING A STREAM. big lump on his nose, besides several more stings wbicli the bees had judicioush' distributed about his person. It was very evident that he had been overmatched, and had come out second best in the encounter. Corporal Klegg pre- sented a picturesque appearance as he reached Companj' Q, and the boys screamed with delight. "Whar's yer honey?" said Shorty. "'Pears like ye waked up the wrong passenger that time ! " Si laughed with the rest, rubbed salt on his stings, and plodded on, consoling himself with the thought that his was not the only case in which the merit of earnest effort had gone unrewarded. During the march a large stream was reached, the bridge over which had been burned. The Avater was waist deep. If the regiment had been moving rapidly to meet an emer- gency the men would not have stopped for a moment. Unclasping their cartridge-box belts they would have plunged into the water without removing a single garment, carrying their muskets and ammunition so as to keep them dry. But at this time the regiment was not under press- ure and a halt was ordered. The colonel directed the men to strip, and they quickly divested themselves of their clothes. These and their numerous ** traps " were bundled up and hoisted upon fixed bayonets or carried upon the head. Then the bugle sounded and the fantastic procession entered the water. The grotesquely ridiculous appearance of the men provoked shouts of laughter. Short men were at a disadvantage, and Corporal Klegg had as much as he could do to resist the sweej) of the cur- rent that threatened to carry him off his feet, as he care- fully felt his Avay along the stony bottom. It was difficult for one to assist another, as each had his hands fully occu- pied in the carriage of his clothing and accouterments. "When about midway Si's foot slipped on a treacherous stone and he went down with a great splash, submerging himself and his burden, while everybody yelled. SI S CALAMITY. 293 Shorty had thoughtfully arranged his load so as to have one hand free, and had kept near Si, that he might be of service in case of accident. He seized his unfortunate comrade just in time to save him from being borne away by the rushing stream, and got him upon his feet again. Si came up half strangled and spouting like a whale. But for Shorty's timely aid he would have been forced to jetson his cargo and swim for his life. Shorty kept his hand until the bank was safely reached. Si had clung to all his things, but they were well soaked. Many others of the regiment THE 200th INDIANA TAKES TO THE WATER. had similar watery' experiences, and some of them were less fortunate, losing their guns and equipments. Loss of life while crossing streams in this w^ay was not an uncommon occurrence. During the brief time allowed the men to "dress up," SI wrung out his dripping garments and drew them on. The warm sun quicklj^ dried them, and he w^as none the worse for his mishap. "I reck'n they'd let me jine the Babtist church now," he said to Shorty. • Soon after noon the regiment came to a large patch of 294 IN A SWEET POTATO PATCH. sweet potatoes. Si and Short}^ as well as many of the rest, thought it would be a good place to lay in a supply for supper, as they might not have another such chance. From all parts of the column the soldiers, by dozens, dashed into the field. In a moment there was a man at every hill, digging awa}^ with his bayonet, and chucking the tempt- ing tubers into his haversack. The artist has pictured the scene in a manner that will touch a responsive chord in the memories — not to mention the stomachs — of the vet- erans of the war. Two hours before going into camp the regiment passed a small spring, around which a crowd of sol- diers were struggling to fill their canteens. There had been a long "Stretch without fresh -water, and Si thought he would sup' ply himself. " Gimme your canteen, too, Short3% and I'll fill it," he said, "ef ye'll jest carry my gun." " Here, Si, you're a bully boy, take mine!" " Mine, too ! " " And mine! " said one after another of his comrades. Si good- naturedly complied, and they loaded him down with a dozen canteens. "All right," said Si, "I'll be 'long with 'em full d'reckly ! " He had to wait for his turn at the spring, and by the time he had filled all the canteens he was half an hour be- hind. Slinging them around his neck he started on, with just about as big a load as he could carry. He forged ahead, gradually gaining a little by the tardy movement of the column that generally preceded going into camp. A PREMATURE HARVEST. LOVE S LABOR LOST, 295 The canteen straps chafed his shoulders, his back ached, and perspiration flowed in streams. The smoke of the campfires ahead told that the end of the day's march was near. He kept on and finally came up with Company Q just as the 200th was stacking arms on the bank of a clear stream. He threw dowm his burden of canteens, well-nigh exhausted. "Purty good load, w^a'n't it. Si?" said Shorty. "But what made ye lug all that w^ater in here ? When ye seen they was goin' into camp ahead ye might ha' knowed there ■was plenty o' w^ater. Why in blazes didn't ye turn the water out o' them 'ere canteens?" ' ' I never thought o' that," said Si, while the boys joined in a hearty laugh. At the command "Break ranks" there was a general scamper to engage in the work of getting supper and preparing to spend the night. The members of each mess scattered in all directions, some ^ "bully boy's" burden. for water, rails and straw, while others scoured the ad- jacent region for edibles. The utmost activity character- ized these operations. It w^as "every one for himself," and he w^ho stirred around wath the greatest zeal was likely to fare best. Si threw off his traps and dropped on the ground to rest a few minutes, but got up presently to scratch around with the rest. As he took hold of his haversack he was surprised at its lightness. When he laid it down it was 296 HOW SI "got even." bulging out with sweet potatoes, and a glance showed him that these were all gone. " Durn my buttons !" exclaimed Si, as he forgot his wear- iness, and his eyes flashed fire. " Ef I cim a corporil, I kin jest mash the feller 't stole my 'taters, I don't keer if he's ten foot high. Won't somebody show 'im to me ? Thar won't be 'nuff of 'im left to hold a fun'ral over!" Si pranced around in a high state of indignation, and there is little doubt that if he had found the purloiner of his provender there would have been a harder fight, in proportion to the forces engaged, than any that had yet occurred during the war. The boys w^inked slyly at one another, and all said it was too bad. It was a startling case of turpitude, and Si de- termined to have revenge by getting even on some other fellow, without pausing to consider questions which apper- tain more to theology than to war. "Come 'long with me, Shorty !" he said to his friend, and they strode away. Just outside the camp they came upon two members of some other new regiment coming into camp, with a fine pig slung over a pole and two or three chickens in their hands. Short}^ suggested to Si that this was a good chance for him to even up. "Halt there!" shouted Si to the foragers. "We're sent out ter pick up jest sich fellers 's you !" The effect was like a shot from a cannon. The men dropped their plunder and fled in wild confusion. " Take hold o' that pole. Shorty !" said Si, and laying it upon their shoulders they made a triumphant entry into camp. There seemed to be no danger of immediate starvation in the ranks of the 200th. Each man had supplied himself abundantly. Fires gleamed brightly in the gathering twi- light, and around them crowded the hungry soldiers in- tent upon making ready the feast. Up to this time the doctors of the 200th Indiana had THE REGIMENTAL DOCTORS. 29? found little to do, aside from issuing salve and arnica to assuage the pain of blisters and lame legs and shoulders. The men had started out in good physical condition, and there had been scarcely time for disease to make serious ravages among them. Si Klegg was a good specimen of a robust Hoosier lad — for he could scarcely be called a man yet. Since he lay in his cradle and was dosed with paregoric and catnip tea like other babies, he had never seen a sick day. He had done all he could to starve the doctors. LAYING IN SUPPLIES. When the reo-iment took the field it had the usual outfit of men -who wrote their names sandwiched between a mil- itary title in front and "M. D." behind. It had a big hos- pital tent, and an apothecary shop on wheels, loaded to the guards with quinine, blue-mass, castor oil, epsom salts — everything in fact that was known to medical science as a cure for the ills to which flesh is heir. As yet the doctors had not done much but hold a continual dress-parade in their shiny uniforms. The next day the march was continued. On going into camp the 200th, being well in the advance, struck a field 298 A FEAST AND WHAT FOLLOWED. of late corn with a good crop of ears just at the right stage for roasting or boiling. Adjoining this was an apple orchard loaded with fruit. The boys quickly laid in an enormous supply, lighted fires, and an hour later were enjoying a roj^al feast, *' Now this is suthin like !" said Si, as he squatted on the ground along with Shorty and half a dozen messmates. They surrounded a camp-kettle full of steaming ears, and Haifa bushel or so of apples heaped on a poncho. *'Wish we had some o' mother's butter to grease this corn with," observed Si, as he flung a cob into the fire and seized a fresh ear. All agreed that Si's head was level on the butter question, but under all the circum- stances they were glad enough to have the corn without butter. The ears went off with amazing rapidity. £^ ^ --^^' , Every man seemed to A RED-LETTER DAY, bc afraid hc wouldn't get his share. When the kettle was empty the boys turned themselves loose on the apples, utterly reckless of results. When Si got up he burst half the buttons off his clothes. It was not long till he began to wish he had eaten an ear of corn and an apple or two less. He didn't feel very well. He turned in early, thinking he would go to sleep and be all right in the morning. Along in the night he uttered a yell that came near stampeding the company. An enormous colic was raging in his interior, and he fairly howled with pain. He thought he was going to die immediately. A MlDNIGHl' VELl.. 299 ■ Shorty,' he said, between the gripes, to his comrade, "I'm afeard I'm goin' up the spout. Arter I'm gone you write to — to — Annie, and tell her I died fer my country, like a man. I'd ruther been shot than die wnth the colic, but I spose 'twon't make much diff'runce arter it's all over!" "I'll do it," replied Shorty. "We'll plant ye 'n good shape ; and. Si, we'll gather up the corn-cobs and build a moniment over ye!" But Si w^asn't cutoff in the bloom of youth by that colic. His eruptive condition frightened Shorty however, and, though he was in nearly as bad shape himself, he went up and routed out one of the doctors, i who growled a good' deal about being dis- turbed. the supper scattered /^ -:> -•'■ about the camp told the doctor what was ^^:; the matter, and he had no need to make a criti- cal diagnosis of Si's ' ^^^^^ '^^'^ °^ ^°"^- case. He administered a dose of something that eased the pain a little, and Si managed to rub along through the night. Fortunately for Si, and for more than half the members of the regiment, the army did not start early the following day. At the usual hour in the morning the bugler blew the "sick-call." A regiment of grizzly veterans lay next to the 200th Indiana, and as Si lay groaning in his tent he heard them sing the words that became so familiar to him afterward. c i; The debris of ^^^^ 300 "git yer quinine!'* "Fall in fer yer ipecac!" shouted the orderly. Si joined the cadaverous pro- ^ u cession and went Ffer^ri— ±^ wabbling up to the •^ «r— »- 1^ "doctor's" shop- — with a discouraged ^ air. It was a regular matinee that day. Git yer qui T N- nlnel Git yer qui - ninel ^— tr -■^:^- Tum-ble up you sick, and T^ N :: lame and blind; ^- -- N — K- ;^^si hind. The SUrP'eon and his ^^* * * ^^'^^ right smart, you'll be left be assistants were all "sick-call." on hand, as the colicky squads came to a focus in front of the tent. The doctors worked off the patients at a rapid rate, gen- erally prescribing the same medicine for all, no matter what ailed them. This was the wa}' the army doctors always did, but it hap- pened in this case that they were not far wrong, as the ail- ments, arising from a common cause, were much the same. When Si's turn came he re- ceived a liberal ration of medicine from the hospital steward, and the doctor gave him a "pass" to ride that day in an ambulance. SI INTERVIEWS THE DOCTOR. CHAPTER XXIII. Tirs Army has a Spasm of Morality and Rests on Sunday— It Proves a Cold Day for Shorty. DURING the very few days that the 200th Indiana lay in camp before entering upon the campaign, nothing was thought of except getting the regiment into condition for immediate service. There was no opportunity to learn the customary details of camp life. Then it spent three or four weeks cantering over the country, trying v^ithout success to find a battle to get into. Now that the chase after the fleet-footed rebels had been abandoned, attention was given to the prescribed daily routine of duty. The wagons that w^ere left behind when the army moved had rejoined the regiment, and the men once more had tents to sleep in. The campaign had been a disappointment to Si Klegg. "When the troops entered upon it, in such imposing array, he fully expected that the opposing rebel army would be exterminated. One insignificant brush with the enemy was the nearest approach to a battle that he had seen. His impatience knew no bounds when,^tthe sound of half a dozen shots on the skirmish-line, the whole army halted, performed grand maneuvers, formed line of battle, threw up entrenchments and solemnly waited to be attacked by the enemy, who was all the time trying so hard to get aw^ay. "I'd jest like ter show 'em how ter run a war," he said to Shorty. "I wouldn't have so much tomfoolery goin' 301 302 "retreat" and "tattoo." on. We \Yalksour legs off tryin' terfind the Johnnies so 's we kin thrash 'em, 'n' 's soon 's we cotches 'em we don't do nothin' but stan' 'n' make faces at 'em, 's ef we was a lot o' boys. Now they've got away fergood 'n' ther' ain't nobody hurt on ary side. Wish 't they'd make me a gin- 'ral. Mebbe I wouldn't whip the rebels but I'd try my level best. Ther' 'd be a fight, anyway." After a while the "gin'rals" fell into Si's way of think- ing. Then came fierce fighting, and at last the end. Si was glad when he heard that a new commander had been ap- pointed to lead that army. He did not have to wait much longer to know what it was to go through a great battle. "Fall in, Compan}^ Q, for retreat! ' shouted the orderly one Saturday evening, as the drums rattled at sunset. "What we goin' to retreat fer. Shorty? " asked Si, with alarm. "The rebils hain't whipped us, have they? I'm mighty sartin 't I ain't licked yet. The folks to home '11 think we're all a pack o' cowards ef we go ter runnin'back 'thout havin' a fight." "It don't mean that, Si," replied his comrade. "When ye hear the bugles blowin' 'n' the drums beatm' fer roll-call at sundown, that 's what they calls 'retreat.' " "I can't see no sense 'n givin' 't that name," said Si. "I alius thought retreat meant runnin' the wrong way. 'Pears like words don't have the same meanin' 'n the army 't they does up 'n Injianny." Si had new cause for wonder two or three hours later when another call Avas sounded and the company was ordered to fall in for "tattoo." In his eagerness for in- formation he asked Shorty if they had all got to be tattooed like the cannibals he had seen pictures of, and if so what it was for. Short^^ told him that "tattoo " was the name given by the army regulations to the call for everybody to go to bed. "I hope I'll git all these curus things larned arter a while," said Si. KEEPING TRACK OF GILNDAY. 303 As a matter of fact the army did get pretty thoroughly "tattooed " during the war. Every regiment had its tat- tooers, with outfits of needles and India-ink, who for a consideration decorated the limbs and bodies of their com- rades with flags, muskets, cannons, sabers, and an infinite varietv of patriotic emblems and warlike and grotesque devices. Some of these men were highly artistic and did their work in a manner that would have been creditable to a South Sea Islander. Thousands of the soldiers had name, regiment and residence "pricked" into their arms or legs. In poitions of the army this was recommended in general orders, to afford means of identification if killed in battle. It was like writing one's own epitaph, but the custom prevented many bodies from being buried in "un- known ' graves. "Tomorrow's Sunday, ye know!" said the orderly at "retreat." This was in the nature of news to the boys. But for the announcement very few of them would have known it. The orderly was not distinguished for his piety, and it is not likely that the approach of Sunday v.^ould have oc- curred to him if the sergeant-major had not come around with orders from the colonel for a proper observdnce of the day. The colonel himself would not have thought of it, either, if the chaplain had not reminded him of it. Everybody wondered how even the chaplain could keep track of the days well enough to know when Sunday came. It was the general impression that he either carried an almanac in his pocket, or else a stick in which he cut a notch every da}^ with his jack-knife, and in that wav man- aged to know when a new week began. . The 200th Indiana had been kept particularly active on Sundays. Probably this regiment did not manifest any more than the average degree of enthusiasm and fervor in religious matters, but there were manv in its ranks who, at home, had always sat under gospel ministrations, and 304 SI TALKS SHORTY TO SLEEP. to tramp on Sundays, the same as other days, was, at first, a riide shock to their moral sensibihties. These were yet keen; the edges had not been worn off and blunted and battered by the hard knocks of army life. True, they could scarcely tell when Sunday came, but they knew that they kept marching right along every day. "There'll be guard-mountin' at 9 o'clock,'' continued the orderly, "regimental inspection at 10, preachin' at 11, an' dress-parade at 5 in the evenin'. All of ye wants to tumble out right promp ly at revellee an' git yer break- fast, an' then clean up yer guns an" put all yer traps in apple-pie order, 'cause the colonel's goin' to look at 'em. He's got sharp eyes, an' I reck'n he'll be mighty pertickler. If there's anythingthat ain't jest right he'll see it quicker 'n lightnin'. Ye know we hain't had any inspections yet, an* the cap'n w^ants us to be the boss company. So ye've got to scratch around lively in the mornin." "Shorty," said Si, after the}' had gone to bed, "seems like it'll be sort o' nice ter keep Sunday agin. At the rate we've bin goin' on we'll all be heathens by the time we git home — if we ever do. Our chaplain hain't had no chance ter preachify yet The boys w'at knows him, says he's a staver, 'n' I b'lieve it'll make us all feel better ter have him talk to us once. 'Twon't do us no harm, nohov/. I'd like ter be home termorrer 'n' go to church with mother, 'n' sister Marier, 'n' the rest o' the folks. Then I'd jest eat all the arternoon. I ain't goin' ter git homesick. Shorty; but a feller can't help feelin' a leetle streaked once 'n a while. Mebbe it 's a good idee fer 'em to keep us on the jump, fer then we don't git no chance to think 'bout it. I don't s'pose I'm the onl}' boy 'n the rijiment that 'd be glad ter git a furlough jest fer termorrer. I sh'd want ter be back bright 'n' arly ter fall in Monda3miornin',fer I cal- kilate ter stick ter the 200th Injiannj' through thick 'n thin. Say, Shorty, how d'ye feel, anj^waj^?" THE MORNING ROLI.-CALL. 305 But Short}' was already fast asleep. Si spooned ujd to him and was soon at home in his dreams. The sound of bugle and drum, at daylight, fell upon un willing ears, for the soldiers felt the same indisposition tc get up early Sunday morning that is ever^^where one of the characteristics of modern civilization. Their beds were hard, but to their weary limbs no couch ever gave more welcome rest than did the rough ground on which they lay. But the wild yell of the orderly, "Turn out for roll* call!" with the thought of the penalties for non-obedience — which some of them had abundant reason to remember — quicklj' brought out the lag- gards. Si and Shorty were, as usual, among the first to take their places in line. They were pleas- antl}^ greeted by the '■ captain, who had come out on the run at the last moment, and wrig- gled himself into his coat as he strode along the company street. The captain did not^ very often appear at morning roll-call. Only one officer of the company was required to be present, and the captain generally loaded this duty upon the lieutenants, "turn about." If he did show up, he would go back to bed and snooze for an hour while the cook was getting breakfast. If one of the men did that, he would soon be promenading with a rail on his shoulder or standing on a barrel with a stick or a bayonet tied in his movith. THE CAPTAIN AT EARLY ROLL-CALL. >0J MOUNTING THE GUARD. "I think that's a fust rate notion ter mount the guards," said Si to Shorty, as they sat on a rail by the fire making eoffee and frying bacon. "It'll be so much better 'nwalkin' back 'n' forrard on the beats. Wonder 'f they'll give us hosses or mules to ride." "I'd like ter know what put that idee into yer head?" said Shorty. " Why, didn't the ord'ly say las' night 't there 'd be guard- mountin' at 9 o'clock this mornin'? I s'posed that fer a man ter be mounted meant straddlin' a hoss or s'mother kind of an animil." '^ Ain't ye never goin' to larn nuthin'," said Shorty, with a laugh. "Guard-mountin' don't mean fer the men ter git on hosses. It's only the name they gives it in thereggelations. Dunno why thc}^ calls it that, 'nless it's 'cause the guards has ter ' mount ' anybody that tries ter pass 'thout the counter- sign. But don't 3'e fool yer self with thinkin' "sir, the guard is formed." ye're goin' ter git to ride. We'll keep pluggin' along afoot, on guard er any- where else, same 's we have all the time." "I sh'd think they might mount the corporils, anyway,'* said Si. Thus rudely was shattered another of his bright illu sions. The whole regiment turned our to witness the ceremony ' f guard-mounting. It was the first time the exigencies of PREPARING FOR INSPECTION. 807 the campaign had permitted the 200th Indiana to do this in style. The adjutant was the most important personage, and he stood so straight that he narrowly escaped falling over backward. In order that he might not make a mess of it, he had spent half the night rehearsing the various commands in his tent. Thus prepared, he managed to get through his part quite comfortably, though the non-com- missioned officers and privates made awkward work of it. The next thing on the program for the day was the in- spection. The boys had been industriously engaged in cleaning up their muskets and accouterments, and putting their scanty wardrobes in presentable condition. In ar- ranging his knapsack for the colonel's eye, each man care- fully laid a clean shirt, if he had one, on the top. The garments that were not clean he either stowed away in the tent or put at the bottom of the knapsack. In this he was actuated by the same principle that prompts the thrifty farmer to jDut the biggest apples and strawberries at the top of his measure. The clothing of the regiment was already in an advanced stage of demoralization. It was of the "shoddy " sort, that a good hard wind w^ould almost blo^v to pieces. Corporal Klegg was anxious that not only his person but all his goods and chattels, should make as creditable an appearance as possible. He put on the best and clean- est garments he had, and then betook himself to fixing his knapsack so it would pass muster. "Them duds is a bad lot," he said to Short}^ casting rue- ful glances at the little heap of soiled and ragged clothes. "Purty hard to make a decent show with them things!" "Wait a minute," said Shorty, "an' I'll show ye a leetle trick." Taking his poncho under his arm. Shorty went to the rear of the camp, where the mules were feeding, and pres- ently returned with a bunch of ha\\ "What ye goin' to do with that?" asked Si. 308 shorty's ingenious scheme. "You jest do 's I tell 3'e, and don't ax no questions. Cram some o' this hay into yer knajDsack 'n' fill ""er up, 'n' then put a shirt or svithin, the best ye kin find, on top, 'n' the colonel'll think she's full o' clothes right from the laun- dry. Tm goin' ter fix mine that way.'' "Shorty, you're a trump !" said Si approvingly. "That '11 be bully!" It required but a few minutes to carry out the plan. The hay was stuffed into the knapsacks, and all vagrant spears were carefully tucked in. Then a garment, folded so as to conceal its worst features, was nicely spread over the hay, the flaps were closed and buckled, and the young Hoosiers were ready for inspection. "S'posen the colonel sh'd take a notion to go pokin' down into them knapsacks," said Si ; " don't ye think it 'd be purty cold weather fer us ?" "PVaps it mout " answered Shorty; "but we've got ter take the chances. He's got six er seven hunderd knap- sacks to ""nspect, "'n' I don't b'lieve he'll stick his nose down into very many on 'em !" At the appointed time the battalion was formed and the inspection was gone through with in good style. The colonel and the field and staff officers, escorted by the cap- tain of each successive company, moved grandly between the ranks, their swords dangling around and getting mixed up with their legs. The soldiers stood facing inward like so many wooden men, with their open knapsacks lying upon the ground at their feet. Ihe colonel looked sharply right and left, stopping now and then to commend a sol- dier whose "traps" were in particularly good condition, or to "go for" another whose slouchy appearance betok- ened untidy habits. If a button was missing, or a shoe untied, his eye was keen to detect it, and a word of re- proof was administered to the delinquent. As the colonel started down the line of Company 0, Si watched him out of the corners of his eyes with no little THE COLONEL WAS TOO INQUISITIVE. 309 anxiety. His heart thumped as he saw him occasionally stoop and fumble over the contents of a knapsack, evi- dently to test the truth of Longfellow's declaration that "things are not what they seem." What if the colonel should go dow'n into the bowels of his knapsack! He shuddered at the thought. Si almost fainted when he saw the colonel stop in front of Shorty and make an examination of his fat-looking knapsack. Military dignity gave way when the removal of the single garment exposed the stuffing of hay. The officers burst into a laugh at the unexpected revelation, while the boys on either side almost exploded in their ec joyment of Shorty's discomfiture. shorty's cold day. "Captain," said the colonel, with as much sternness as he could command, "as soon as j^our company is dis- missed, detail a guard to take charge of this man. Give him a stiff turn of fatigue dut■^^ You can find something for him to do ; and make him work hard, if it is Sunday. Keep him at it till church-call, and then take him to hear the chaplain. He needs to be preached to. Perhaps, be- tween the fatigue duty and the chaplain, we can straighten him out.'" 310 A CLOSE SHAVE FOR SI. Corporal Kleg^ heard all this, and he wished the earth might swallow him. "These stripes is gone this time, sure !'' he said to himself, as he looked at the chevrons on his arm. "But there's no use givin' yerself away, Si,'' he continued, in his mental soliloquy. "Brace up, 'n' mebbe the colonel '11 skip ye.'' Si had been badly shaken up by the colonel's episode with Shorty, but by a great effort he gathered himself together and was at his best, externally, when the colonel reached him, though his thoughts were in a raging condition. He stood as straight as a ramrod, his face was clean and rosy, and his general make-up was as good as could be expected under the circumstances. The colonel had always remembered Si as the soldier he had promoted for his gallantry. As he came up he greeted the corporal with a smile and a nod of recognition. He was evidently pleased at his tidy appearance. He cast a glance at the voluptuous knapsack, and Si's heart seemed to sink away down into his shoes. But the fates were kind to Si that day. The colonel turned to the captain and told him that Corporal Klegg was the model soldier of Company Q. Si was the happiest man in the universe at that precise moment. It was not on account of the compliment the colonel had paid him, but because his knapsack had escaped a critical examina- tion. The inspection over. Company Q marched back to its quarters and was dismissed. Poor Shorty was soon hard at work chopping wood, with a guard on duty over him. Si was sorry for him, and at the same time felt a glow of pleasure at the thought that it Vv^as not his own knapsack instead of Shorty's that the colonel had examined. He could not help feeling, too, that it was a great joke on Shorty to be caught in his own trap. Shorty took his medicine like a man, unheeding the gibes and jeers of his hard-hearted comrades. 'the groves were god's first temples." 311 The bugle sounded the call for religious services. Shorty was not in a frame of mind that fitted him for devout worship. In fact, few in the regiment had greater need of the regenerating influence. He had never been inside of a church but two or three times in his life, and he really felt that to be compelled to go and listen to the chaplain's ser« mon was the hardest part of the double punishment the colonel had inflict- ed upon him. The companies w^ere all marched to a wooded knoll just outside the camp. Shorty had the companion- ship of a guard with fixed bayo- net, who escorted him to the place chosen for the services. He was taken to a point near the chaplain, that he might get the full benefit of the preacher's words. CALLING TO REPENTANCE. Under the spreading trees, whose foliage was brilliani with the hues of autumn, in the mellow sunshine of thai. October day, the men seated themselves upon the ground to hear the gospel preached. The chaplain, in his best uniform, stood and prayed fervently for Divine guidance and protection and blessing, while the soldiers listened, with heads reverently bowed. Then he gave out the familiar hymn, "Am I a soldier of the cross," 312 WAR AND RELIGION. and alljoinedin theold tune"Balerma," their voices swell- ing in mighty chorus. As they sang, " Are there no foes for me to face ? " there came to the minds of many a practical application of the words, in view of the long and fruitless chase after the rebels, in which they had been engaged. The chaplain had formerly been an old-fashioned Meth- odist circuit-rider in Indiana. He was full of fiery zeal, and his vivid portrayal of the horrors of future punish- ment ought to have had a salutary effect upon Shorty, but it is greatly to be feared that he steeled his stubborn heart against all that the chaplain said. It was difficult not to feel that there was something contradictory and anomalous about religious services in the army. Brutal, hideous war, and all its attendant cir- cumstances, seemed so utterly at variance with the princi- ples of the Bible and the teachings of Him who was meek and lowly, that few of the soldiers had philosophy enough to reconcile them. The men spent the afternoon in reading what few stray books and fugitive newspapers there were in camp, mend- ing their clothes, sleeping, and some of them, it is painful to add, in playing euchre and old sledge. Dress parade closed the day that had brought welcome rest to the way- worn soldiers. "Shorty," said Si, after they had gone to bed that night, 'Tsh'd be mighty sorry if 7 'c/ ha' go tup that knapsack trick this mornin', 'cause you got left on it so bad." "There's a good many things," replied Shorty, "that's all right when ye don't git ketched. It worked tip-top with you. Si, 'n' I'm glad of it. But I put ye up to it, 'n' I shouldn't never got over it ef the colonel had caught 3^e, on 'count o' them stripes on yer arm. He'd ha' snatched 'em mity quick, sure's yer born. You're my pard, 'n' I'm jest as proud of 'em as you be yerself. I'm only a privit', 'n' they can't rejuce me any lower! 'Sides, I 'lov/ \i PUNISHMENTS IN THE ARMY. ' 313 sarved me right, 'n* I don't keer so 1 didn't git you inter no scrape." The forms of punishment in the army were many and unique. Some of them were grotesque and ridiculous in the extreme— particularly those for minor offenses, which came within" the discretion of regimental and company commanders. Commissioned officers could only be pun- ished by the sentence of a court-martial. They could not be "reduced" in rank. Reprimand and forfeiture of pay were common penalties for the milder forms of their tres- passes and sins. In flagrant cases the usual punishment was "cashiering" or "dishonorable discharge, "often with forfeiture of all pay and allowances due the officer. For desertion, sleeping on post, and all the graver offenses, non-commissioned officers and privates were also tried by court-martial. Only in extreme cases was the death pen- alty imposed. The most common punishments were re- duction to the ranks — in the cases of non-commissioned officers— loss of pay, confinement in military prison, hard labor with ball and chain at the ankle, shaving the head and "drumming out of camp" — sometimes with a perma- nent decoration in the shape of a brand on the hip. For minor infractions of discipline, often committed through ignorance and without wrong intent, there was no limit to the variety of penalties suggested by the whims and caprices of colonels and captains and even orderly sergeants. In many cases they appeared unreasonable, in view of the trifling character of the offenses. The "guard- house" was a retributive institution that existed every- where. At permanent stations this was usually a building of some kind, which was made to serve the purposes of a jail. In the field it was often a tent — perhaps onl}' a fence- corner. Wherever the headquarters of the camp-guard were fixed, there was the "guard-house. ' ' Often just before going int ) action prisoners were released and sent to their 314- SOME CORRECTIVE MEASURES companies. If they behaved well in battle it served as an atonement for their transgressions. The "buck and gag" was a severe corporeal punishment- The "bucking" -was done by securely tying the wrists, seating the culprit on the ground and placing the arms h il;e y^oc\y 3:.cKci J^5^ ^^i hanging around. "Look there!" said Si, pointing to the ma- ternal scene that has beenarudedto. "Let's have some o' that. We'll git over the fence 'n' you jest hold the calf while I milk our canteens full, 'n a jiffy!" "Weortn'ttoleave the post, had we ?" suggested Shorty. "Oh, there ain't no danger," Si replied; "V, besides, you kin keep lookin' out while you're hangin' onto the calf I was alius a good milker, 'n' I'll fill up these canteens in a couple o' minnits." So they climbed over and leaned their muskets against the fence. Shorty seized the calf and held it with a firm grip, in spite of its struggling and bleating. The cow seemed ROBBING THE CALF. 'Twon't take more 372 A DAiv<>EROUS TEMPTER. disposed at first to resent the interference, but Si's persua- sive "So, bossy ! " proved effectual in calniinj^ her fears, and she stood placidly chewing her cud while Si, spurred on by a guilty conscience, milked with all his might. The canteens were soon filled, and, without stopping to drink. Si and Shorty hurried back to their post of duty. All was quiet, and no harm had resulted from their brief absence. "I told ye 'twould be all right," said Si. "Nowwe'll jest empty one o' these canteens — here, take a swig — 'n' v^e'U carry the other to camp. It'll be jest bully ter have milk in our coffee agin ! " Then they betook themselves to duty with redoubled vigilance, to atone for their derelictions. After watching an hour without seeing anything. Si said he would take another little turn around the place. Boldly advancing to the house, which was some distance in front of their post, he was met by agoodlookingyoung woman. To Si's ardent imagination she was like a vision of surpassing loveliness. She greeted him pleasantly — for Si was a comely youth — and if the truth must be told, he actually forgot for the moment all about his duty. When she said she would get him up a good dinner, and invited him into the house to sit while she was preparing it, he just went right along. But his conscience began to thump so loudly that after a few minutes he told her he gtKssed he'd have to go, but would be delighted to return in a little while and enjoy her hospitality,' "May I bring Short^^ — he's my pard — 'long with me?" be timidly asked. "Certainly!" she replied with a sweet smile; and Si went away, his nerves tingling with pleasant emotions. "Shorty," he said as he came up to the latter, "I've struck it this time. Over to that house there's the purtiest gal I ever " CAUGHT m THE WEB. 373 •'Wha-a-a-a-t !" interjected Shorty, with a look of aston- ishment; for he knew something about the girl Si had "left behind him," and he was surprised at his comrade's trea- sonable utterances. Si easily divined his thoughts, for something of the same nature had already caused his own heart to throb in a re- proving way. "Of— c-c-course — I d-d-don't mean th-th-that, Shorty," he stammered ; "but she's a nice girl, anyhow, 'n' she's git- tin' up a dinner fer me 'n' you. Bet ye it'll be a tip-top lay- out, too!" Shorty did not ^eel quite at ease in his mind about leav* ing the post again, but Si assured him it would be all right. The peculiar circumstances of the case had sadly warped his judgment. So they went to the house and were cordially greeted by cheir fair voung hostess, who was flying around putting- the finishing touches to the meal she had prepared for them. "Jimin}^ don't that smell good ?" said Si to Shorty in an undertone, as his sensitive nostrils caught the savory odors that arose from the nicely-spread board. The young Hoosiers stood their guns on the floor in a corner of the room, preliminary to an assault on the edibles. "Ugh !" exclaimed the young woman, with a coquettish shiver, "be them awful things loaded ?" "N-no!" said Si; "they won't hurt ye if ye don't touch 'em!" Si was learning to fib a little, and he wanted to quiet her fears. The boys were soon seated at the table, bountifully sup- plied with ham, chicken, eggs, bread and butter, honey, and all the accessories of a well-ordered repast. They fell to with an eagerness that was, perhaps, justified by the 374 A CLOSE RUB. long time that had elapsed since they had eaten a "square meal." While they were thus engaged, without a thought of im- pending danger, the girl suddenly opened the door leading into an adjoining room. A young man — who proved to be her brother — in the uniform of a rebel officer, dashed in and presenting a cocked revolver, demanded their uncon- ditional and immediate surrender. They were in a tight place. But Si proved equal to the sudden and appalling dilemma. It flashed through his mind in an instant how the girl had "played it" on him. He made up his mind that he w^ould rather be shot th an be captured under such circumstances. He sprang up, and the ^ rebel, true to his word, jj^\) fired. Si dodged, and ■'^- the ball only chipped a piece from his left ear. There was not time to get and use his gun. With the quickness of a cat Si sprang upon him, and with a blow of his fist laid him sprawHng upon the floor. Disarming him, he placed the revolver at his head and triumphantly exclaimed : "Now, gaul durn ye, you're my prisoner. I'd like ter blow the top o' yer head off fer spilin' my dinner, but I won't do it this time. But you jest git up 'n' come 'long w^ith me ! " With this complete mastery of the situation. Si's confi- THE TABLES TURNED. 'leg-bail. 375 dence returned, and Shorty, wlio had recovered himself, came to his assistance. But at this instant their ears caught the sound of horses' hoofs galloping down the pike. Shorty's quick perception told him that it was a. dash of rebel cavalrymen, and that a few minutes later escape would be impossible. "Grab yer gun an'^/t/" he said. Si cast one ferocious glance at the terrified girl, who stood, white and speech- less, contemplating the ,^. • scene. Si and Shorty dashed (Ut of the house and started for the reserve, at the highest speed of which their legs were capable. On clattered the horses, and a few shots from the carbines of the swift-riding horse- men whistled through the air. Six feet at a jump, with thumping hearts and bulging eyes, the fu- gitives almost flew over the ground, throwing:! quick glances back at their pursuers, and then ahead, in the hope of catching a glimpse of succor. "Shorty, if we— only git— out o' this—" but Si found he hadn't any wind to spare to finish the sentence. The reader's imagination must supply the good resolutions as to his future conduct that were floating in Si's mind at this critical juncture. He saw the awful consequences of yielding to the influence of that alluring young woman and her seductive dinner. What he had read about Adam THE VALUE OF GOOD LEGS. 376 AN EXCITING RACE. and the trouble Eve got him into, in pretty much the same way, flashed before him. It was a good time to resolve that he wouldn't do so any more. Shorty, long and lank, was swifter on his feet than Si. Hardtack and bacon had not yet reduced the latter's sur- plus flesh to a degree that enabled him to run well. Shorty kept ahead, but would not desert his comrade, slowing up for an instant now and then to give Si, who was straining to the utmost every nerve, and puffing like a locomotive on an up grade, a chance to keep within supporting distance. The soldiers of the reserve, taking the alarm, came out at a double-quick, and were fortunately able to cover the retreat of the fugitives. The half dozen cavalrj^men, upon the appearance of so large a force, turned their horses and galloped away. "Hello, Si," said the orderly of Company Q, "yer ear's bleedin'. What hurt ye ? " "Fell down and scratched it on a brier!" said Si, as soon as he was able to speak. That night Si and Shorty sat on a log by the campfire, talking over the events of the day. "Don't ye never blow on this thing," said Si. "It 'd be a cold day fer us if they'd find it out." "There ain't no danger o' my tellin'," replied Shorty. "But, say, ain't that a 'nice' girl out there?" "She 's a mean rebel, that 's what she is ! But that was a smart trick o' hern, wa'n't it ? " "Come mighty near bein' too smart fer us!" replied Shorty. "I don't want no more sich close shaves in mine. You 'member the story of the spider 'n' the fly, don't ye ? Wall, she was the spider 'n' we was two poor little fool flies!" "Shorty," said Si, "I'd a mighty sight ruther be an an- gel 'n' have the daisies a-bloomin' over my grave than to ha' been tuk apris'ner in that house. But that dinner was good, anyhow — what we got of it ! " CHAPTER XXVIII. Santa Claijs Fails to Connect With Corporal Klegg, Whose Onl^ Christmas Present is an Order to March. CC T T'S purty nigh Christmas, Shorty," said Si one day |_ in December. " Goin' ter hangup yer stockin's ?" "Stockin's be bio wed!" replied Shorty. "What's the use o' doin' that here ? Old Santa Claus '11 never come nigh the army. He's no fool !" "I'm 'fraid you're 'bout right!" said Si, sadly. "But I seen Pete Jimson this mornin'. You knowed him, didn't ye ? He's bin trampin' 'round an' carryin' a musket goin' on two years. He told me we'd be all right Christmas, anyhow, as the guvyment always gives the soljers a bully dinner — roast turkey, 'n' cramberry sass,'n' eyesters, 'n' mince pie, 'n' sich. Ye know when the fellers come 'round speechifyin' ter git us to jine the army they told us this was the best guvyment in the world !" "Pete Jimson was only a-stuffin' of ye!" said Shorty, with a smile of derision. "Don't ye b'lieve it. Si ; fer I tell ye he's foolin' ye ! " A shade of sadness crept over Si's face, as the thought that what Shorty had said might be true clouded his bright visions of a Christmas feast. "Wall, I dunno," said he, musingly, "mebbe that's so. But me 'n' Pete Jimson used ter go ter Sunday-school to- gether, 'n' I wouldn't s'pose he'd lie ter me 'n that way." ** Ye'U git yer eye-teeth cut arter a while, and then ye'll 377 378 A HOME REMEMBRANCE. know more 'n ye do now !" said Shorty, with a glance of pity at Si for his simplicity. "Wonder 'f I'll git so I kin lie like Pete Jimson by the time iVe been in the army 's long 's he has?" observed Si. "I reckon ye will," answered Shorty; "I guess they all does." For some time the 200th Indiana had been lying in camp. That night the mail brought Si a letter from home. His sister Maria wrote that they were filling up a big box with lots of good things which they were going to send him for Christmas. In the letter was a slip from Annabel, telling Si how glad she was to have a chance to send him something. She had made another big fruit cake, all her- self, for him, and she hoped the mean "grillas" she had heard about, whatever they were, wouldn't get it. If she really believed they would she'd fill it with "kyen" pepper, or "pizen,' or something that would make them w^ish they had let it alone. Si told Shorty, with a good deal of emotion, about the box he was going to get, running over a list of the "good- ies " that would be in it, and which he would be so glad to share w^ith him. "I ain't goin' ter open the box 'fore Christmas momin'," said Si, in jojrful anticipation of the dawn of that auspi- cious day. "I don't much think ye will, myself, " replied Shorty. " I 'low ye'll be mighty lucky 'f ye git a chance ter open that box at all. The grillas gathers in a good deal of that trash, and what gits past them is gobbled up by the mule-whack- ers." But Si had an undying faith that his box would get through all right, however disastrous might be the fate of others. As Christmas drew near he began to watch for it daily. The regiment was camped tw^o or three miles out from the city. Si watched every train of wagons that brought supplies to the camp, and whenever he got an A BOGUS SANTA CLAUS. 379 Opportunity he sent to town to see if he could get any tidings of it. Once or twice he got a "pass" himself, and hunted the city over for that box. The day before Christmas the brigade to which Si's regi* ment belonged was ordered out on a reconnoissance. It was a rainy day. The brigade went charging over the fields and tearing through the woods and thickets, some- times on the double-quick, trying to catch a squad of rebel cavalry, and then creeping up to gather in some of the enem\^'s pickets. Late in the evening the brigade returned to camp. Si thought he had never been so tired before in his life. All day his drooping spirits had been cheered by the hope of finding his box when he got back. But it had not come, and he was inconsolable. * "Ef I was 3'ou I wouldn't open yer box 'fore Christmas mornin'," said Shorty, as he and Si stood around the fire, getting supper. "And what d'ye think now about Pete Jimson's turkey 'n' mince-pie? " Si didnt say anything. His grief was too deep for utter- ance. He didn 't care whether the spangled banner had an^' stars left at all or not. Wet. weary, footsore and thor- oughly disgusted, he went to bed and \vas soon asleep, dreaming of Christmas at home, and mother, and Annabel, and turkey-stuffing, and plum-pudding. "Hello, Si, wake up here! Merry Christmas to ye! " It was Shorty, routing out Si, soon after da3dight. As soon as Si opened his eyes he saw his stockings full of some- thing or other, pinned to the tent just above his head. He Jumped to his feet with as much eagerness as when, in his juvenile days, he used to find candy apples and jumping- jacks sticking out of his w^ell-filled hose. The average army stocking was wonderfully made. A new one, after being worn a couple of days, looked more like a nose-bag for a mule than anything else. Si soon found how the boys had conspired against him^ They all knew about the box which he had so anxiously 380 THE SAD FATE OF SI S BOX. expected, and which none of them beheved he would get,, So, after he went to sleep that night, they slyly pulled oflf his stockings — for Si slept with them on, as did nine-tenths of the soldiers — filled them with wormy hardtack, bacon- rinds, beef-bones, sticks, and bits of old harness, pouring in beans and rice to fill up the chinks, and pinned them to the tent above him. The greatest mistake a soldier ever made was to lose his temper on account of a harmless joke. Si was wise enough to take it good-naturedl}^ as he emptied the "nose- bags "* and drew them on his feet. It was a raw Decem- ber morning, \vith a keen, nipping air. As Si skirmished around for his breakfast he re- alized that all his festive anticipations of a few \ days before were doom- ed to utter and irre- mediable disappoint- ^V,ment. r<^ ' ' It's tough, fer Christ- !mas, ain't it, Shorty?" said Si, as he gnawed his hardtack. If his box would only come he might yet be happy, so to speak; but hope had given way to despair. It was more than four weeks after that time, w^hen the debris of the battle had been cleared away, that Si's Christ- mas box found its way to the front. Its contents, what was left of them, were in a condition to make angels weep. The teamsters had pried it open and rioted upon the savory- dainties that loving hearts and hands had prepared for Si. A small section of Annabel's cake w^as left, and the rava- CHRISTMAS MORNING. MARCHING ORDERS ONCE MORE. 381 gers, with a refinement of cruelty, had written on the paper wrapped around it : " This is bully cake. Try it !" Almost everj'thing in the box had been eaten, and what remained was a hopeless ruin. Rough handling, that would have done credit to a railroad baggage-master, had broken bottles of pickles and jars of fruit, and the liquids had thoroughly baptized the edibles that the mule drivers had spared. It was a sorry mess, and Si's heart ached as he gazed upon the wreck. The forenoon of Christmas day was dull enough. The boys were let off from drill, and spent the time chiefly in writing letters and chas- ing the pensive pediculus. Soon after noon the ser- geant-major of the 200th was seen rushing along the line of the officers' tents' with orders. He had the^ air of a man who bore,^^^ important tidings. In a few minutes it was known ~ through the camp that the commanding general had issued orders for an ad- '^^^ ^^'^^ o^ ^^'^ ^<^^- vance, and the army was to be ready to move at daylight next morning. Tents, wagons, and everything that men did not choose to carry on their backs were to be left behind. "Wonder 'f we're goin' ter have a fight this time?" Si said, with some solicitude. "Looks that Avay!" replied Shorty, The quiet of the morning was followed by the bustle and confusion of getting ready to move. There was hurrying to and fro. Feet and hands and tongues were busy. The 3S2 A BUSY CHRISTMAS. officers made the usual fuss, and kept everybody in a stew. The orderly sergeants had their hands full, as they always did at such times. There ^vere "rations to be drawn and issued — for the men were to march with full haversacks; cartridge-boxes to be inspected and replenished; the sick to be sent to hospitals in the city ; needed articles of cloth- ing to be supplied ; all camp equipage and personal bag- gage to be packed and sent back; frequent details of men to be made for this, that and the other duty ; and all the numberless things that appertained to the beginning of a campaign. So it was that during that Christmas afternoon and evening fifty thousand men were busily engaged in prepara- tion. While he was hustling around Si thought how dif- ferent it was from all his previous Christmases, and even from the one he had hoped to have this time. But he was fast learning to be a good soldier and take things as they came. It was late that night when the work was finished. Then the soldiers wrapped themselves in their blankets to get a few hours of sleep before the reveille should awaken them for the march to battle. This was the way Si Klegg and all the other soldiers of that army spent that Christmas, Si managed, as did most of the others, to snatch a few minutes to write a brief letter or two. A great mail started northward the next day. Many a poor fellow never wrote again. The soldiers did not suffer during the night from the gripings of indigestion, in consequence of having over- loaded their stomachs with turkey and mince-pie. It is unquestionably true that their abstinence from these time- honored accessories of the festive day was not vol- untary, but was due to circumstances over which they had no control. While nightmares were prancing around upon the prostrate forms of their friends at home, the soldiers OMINOUS PREPARATIONS. 383 quietly slept, wrapped- in army blankets, in their camps that fringed the far-off southern city. Nor did they sleep any the less soundly because they were under orders to march. At four o'clock they must spring at sound of bugle and at daylight the foremost bat- talions must file out upon the roads leading southward. The army was soon to look into the very eye of its an- tagonist, and engage it in deadly conflict. All the arrangements for an active campaign of a great army had been carefully made. The troops were thor- oughly equipped and provisioned. Longtrains of wagons loaded wi-th ammunition of all kinds, for infantry, cavalry and artillery, gave unerring indication of important events in the near future. The presumption that the enemy would be equally, or at least sufficiently, well provided in this respect was shown by the suggestive array of ambulances, stretchers, medical stores and hospital supplies. Surgeons were summoned to their regiments, and put their instru- ments in order for the ghastly work before them. All who could not march and fight or be otherwise useful were left behind, the army being stripped of everything that could impede its movements or impair its efficiency. A day or two before this. Corporal Klegg, while walking just outside the camp, saw an enterprising idiot nailing a large placard to a tree. He naturally stopped and read it. It bore this legend: EMBALMING THE DEAD AT LOWEST RATES. BODIES CAREFULLY PRESERVED AND SHIPPED NORTH, Satisfaction Guaranteed— Caskets a Specialty. Coffin & Graves, Undertakers. 384 A COMFORTING ADVERTISEMENT. Si read this gratifying announcement two or three times, as if to catch its full meaning, and then turned away with a low whistle. The man — who wore crape on his hat and looked like the head of a funeral procession — had gathered up his roll of hand-bills and was starting for another tree when Si addressed him : "Say, Mister, who is it 3'er guarantees satisfaction to — the corpse ? 'Cause ef yer kin make him feel satisfied 'n' comf 'table-like it'll be a fust-rate thing." "Young man," said fl/ifA''^'', the undertaker, " this is a serious business, and your levity is un- seemly." And he went on to explain to Si his beautiful system of em- balming, as if he thought- he had succeeded in rob- bing death of half its ter- rors. But Si had never for a moment imagined that he was going to be killed, and the remarks of the melancholy man did not make the im- pression upon him that might have been ex- pected. "Mebbe ef ye'd git yer gun 'n' come 'long with us," he said, "ye might have a chance ter find out yerself how yer embamin' works, 'n' what sort o' satisfaction a man feels when he's all fixed." "I would advise you to read these," was the solemn reply ; and the man handed Si a package of tracts. "I'll hand 'em 'round ter the bo^^s," replied Si. The 200th Indiana had passed through the fir^t stage A CHEERFUL LEGEND. HOW THEY FELT ABOUT IT. 385 of army life and experience, with tlie result common to all regiments. A lew months of active campaigning, without decimation by battle, always weeded out the two classes of those who were but an incumbrance to an army. There were the men of whom it might be said the spirit was will- ing but the flesh was weak. Thej'' were ready to do and dare, but physically unable to endure the fatigues and hardships of the service. The other class was composed of those who could march and eat well enough, but were deficient in "sand." Ever^'- company had such men at first, but they did not stay long. This inevitable shrink- age had left the 200th with five hundred or six hundred soldiers — men who were to fight its battles and follow its flag. The prospect of meeting the enemy had a varying effect upon the soldiers. Many of those who at that time were entitled to be called veterans had already breasted the storm of battle. The ardor begotten of a desire to engage for the first time in the deadly fray, and to hear the whist- ling of bullets, the bursting of shells, and the awful roar of conflict, had given place to a courage far more enduring. The truly brave man was not the one who rushed into battle "like the unthinking horse," but rather he who knew and appreciated the danger, and yet, at the call of dut}', stood willingly face to face with death. This was the feeling that pervaded the older regiments as they girded themselves for the trial that was before them. The bulging patriotism of the new troops manifested itself in the usual way. All the blood-curdling pictures of slaughter the\' had ever seen, and the harrownng tales told b}' their veteran comrades on the march and around the camp-fire, could not stanch the overflow of their bubbling zeal. Most of them could be satisfied with nothing but an opportunity to charge up to the very muzzles of belch- ing batteries, and to plunge their 3'et unstained bayonets into the quivering bodies of the foe. This frantic desire 386 ANNIHILATION — BY FIGURES. melted away when their eyes and ears had been once shocked by the sights and sounds of battle. Their silence on this t^abjedl ever after was oppressive. Corporal Klegg and Shorty were typical representa* lives of two extreme phases of feeling. Si was in that condition sometimes described as "spoiling for a fight." In imagination he saw the whole country moved with admi- ration for the heroic deeds of Corporal Klegg, and it was with a feeling of glad and impatient expectancy that he awaited the long-delayed clash of arms. Shorty took a more conservative view of the matter. He was some years older than Si and had lost the exuber- ance of youth. Prosy and calculating, with an eye to the results that were likely to follow, he was not dazzled by the splendor of martial glory. He was no more a coward than Si. His " pard " v/ould alw^ays find him at his elbow, whatever of danger might betide, but he did not pant for it as Si did. The prevailing idea among the members of the 200th Indiana was that if the rebel general only knew that their regiment was coming he would be wise and give up with- out a fight. They hoped, however, that he wouldn't hear of it, because they wanted to annihilate his army and end the war. "Seems to me," said Si, as he was talking it over with Shorty, "we ought ter use 'em up purty qtiick. I ain't much on figgerin', but I've worked it out 'n this way: We've got a hunderd rounds o' catridges apiece. There's 'bout six hunderd on us, and that'll make sixty thousand catridges. I reck'n the rebs '11 be so thick 't we kin hit a man every crack. We kin load 'n fire once every two minits, easy 'nuff, 'n' 'twon't take us more 'n three hours er so to kill off the hull army. I can't see why the 200th I njianny hadn't orter cook their goose fer 'em." "What dye s'pose the rebs '11 be doin' all that time?" said Shorty. "D'ye think they're goin' ter stan' there like OFF TO THE FRONT. 387 SO many rows o' wooden men 'n' let us shoot 'em down 'n their tracks ? Ye don't want ter fergit 't they've got guns, too, 'n' they know how to use 'em jest 's well 's we do.'' Si really had not thought of this. He saw the force of Shorty's suggestion, however, and that it would be nec- essary for him to revise his calculation. "Wall, I don't care how ye fix it," he said, "we're goin' ter lick 'em, anyhow ! The 200th Injianny 's goin' to walk right inter that town there, and we're goin' ter plant the fust flag on the court-house." "I hope ye're right," said Shorty, "but ye can't some- times tell. We'll know more "bout it arter the racket 's all over." CHAPTER XXIX. The 200th Indiana Marches to Battle, and Si Klegg Experiences THE Thrilling Emotions that Precede the Conflict. FAR and near sounded the reveille through the camps of a hundred regiments, that covered field and hill- side. It was two hours before dawn, but by the dancing light of the fires the final preparations for the advance were made. Every officer and man was busy. There was no time for loitering or for sentimental meditation . Horse- men dashed hither and thither with orders, and men sprang at the word, in willing and prompt obedience. All bag- gage and equipage were loaded upon wagons and sent to the rear. At the appointed hour the "assembly" was sounded. Companies, and then regiments and brigades, were quickU^ formed. The men carried full haversacks and cartridge-boxes, with sixty additional rounds per man in their pockets. Nearly all chose to be unincumbered bv 38S AT THEIR OLD TRICKS. their knapsacks, and left them with the baggage train. Each man had his overcoat and blanket rolled up with the ends tied together like a great doughnut, and thrown over his shoulder. The bugles sounded "Forward," and the long columns, with swinging step, filed out upon the roads and stretched away to the southward. The seasoned veterans of '61 still availed themselves of every opportunity to "nag" the recent levies. Troops were always "new" until they had been through a battle, and by good be- havior earned the right to be called soldiers. Then the good-natured jest and gibe were heard no more. As the 200th Indiana filed past one of the old regiments it received the inevitable fusillade: " Hey, 3'ou paper-collar Hoosiers ; had ter leave yer trunks behind, didn't ye ?" READY FOR BUSINESS. " Ben measured fer yer coff 'ns \'et ? " " They won't none on 'em git killed ; can't git 'em up close enough I " "How they'll climb fer the rear 's soon 's the bullets be- gins ter zip!" Si Kleggfelt his angry passions rise at these imputations upon their valor. He would have resented them then and there had he not a vivid remembrance of his experience upon former occasions, under circumstances somewhat similar. So he bottled his wrath and kept his eyes fixed on his file-leader. He comforted himself with the thought that PUSHING FORWARD. 389 sometime he would be a veteran, and otlier new troops would appear in the field. He would square the account by taking out his revenge ujDon them. The advance occupied three or four days. Much of the time the weather was wet, raw and dismal. Iliere was no trouble in finding the enemy. He made himself consjDic- uously obnoxious day and night, stubbornly yielding to the pressure of the long lines of blue, and falling back from one position to another. It was one of those jerky, exasperating marches that put the temper and patience -^ of the men to the ex- /'(/Y^l.l.' ■ tremetest. On the pikes \-^tlfi////Vc-' • the columns advanced and halted alternately, reaching out a little way and then gather- ing themselves up, inch- ing along like huge worms. The men, wet and weary, stood around and shivered in the cliilling air. An occasional cannon shot or a sputtering fire of musketry kept all on _ the alert. they stop for nothing. Between these columns the stretches of field and wood were swept by heavy lines of skirmishers, supported by brigades and divisions moving in battle array. These forded streams and plunged through dripping thickets, throwing down the fences that stood in their way. Now and then, when the enemy grew saucy and did not seem disposed to take a hint, there would be a dash, a A^ell, and a scamper. In this way passed the days of holiday week. The 890 SI STILL IMPATIENT. nights were spent in abortive attempts to sleep, lying upon the muddy ground, with sodden clothes and blankets, or dozing around the feeble fires, half-blinded by smoke. Strong picket-lines extended entirely around the army, and watchful eyes kept vigil through the slowly-dragging hours. More than once each night straggling shots were heard, and instantly all the soldiers in that vast bivouac seized their arms and sprang into line. The 200th Indiana had its full share of duty in all its diversified forms. Si and Shorty, with soaked and muddy garments, and hands and faces begrimed with smoke and dirt, were always at their post, and in the front when the regiment had the advance. The occasional whiz of a bullet or the bursting of a shell contributed a sufficient flavor of danger to keep Si in a state of effervescent excitement. "If them raskils 'd only quit runnin' 'n' give us a fa'r stan'-up fight!" he exclaimed, asthe200tli dashed through a piece of woods, only to see the gray troopers galloping in the distance. "Don't be in a stew, Si, 's I've told ye before, "said Shorty. "I don't b'lieve ye'll have ter wait much longer 'fore ye'll git 's much 's ye kin hold. Them Johnnies is only fallin' back to jine the main army, and we're goin'ter bump agin suthin solid purty quick. Now you mind what I'm a-tellin' ye, 'n' jest hold yerself level, fer ye're goin' to have all the fightin' ye want this trip !" But it was difficult for Si to restrain his impatience. The forward movement of the army w^as all too slow for him. His heart beat high with ambitious expectation, undis- turbed by a thought of the danger and the awful scenes that were soon to destroy the bright illusion. After days of creeping along and picketing and skirmish- ing, the army struck "something solid," as Shorty had predicted. Then another day was occupied in making the necessary dispositions for battle. Arms were cleaned and put in order. Cai'tridges w^ere carefully inspected, and GETTING READY FOR THE FIGHT. 391 -/ mblem of liberty and the unity of a great Nation. The soldiers cheer as they look upon it. Brave men wounded unto death, turn their eyes to its graceful folds and faintly shout, with the last gasp of swiftly -ebbing life. Ah ! you who have never stood beside your country's flag amidst such scenes as this can know little of the emo- tions that thrilled the throbbing heart of the patriot volunteer ! He never looks iipon it today that it does not recall the valor and the heroic suffering of those who fol- lowed it during those fearful years of fire and blood and death ! The steady and well-directed fire of the 200th and the other regiments of the brigade to which it belonged has held the enemy in check. There are signs of weakness in the opposing line and a charge is ordered. "Battalion— Cease firing!" shouts the colonel of the 200th, dashing to the front. " Fix— Baj^onets !" "D'ye hear that. Shorty?" says Corporal Klegg, as he quicklv responds to the command. "Now w^e're goin' ter go for 'em. That jest suits me!" There is a click and a clatter for an instant, and the line bristles with points of steel. "Close up on the center!" The line is but half as long as when it formed in the morning. "Charge — Bayonet ! Forward — Double-quick— March !" The men spring at the word, and sweep forward with loud shouts. A minute or two and they are looking into the very muzzles of the enemy's guns. During that brief period many more have fallen, but the rest rush on like a "CHARGE bayonet!" 413 resistless tide. The hostile line trembles, quivers, and then, ivithout waiting to meet the shock, breaks in confusion. The men of the 200th dash after them with wild yells, picking their way among the dead and wounded that in- cumber the field. Si and Shorty engage in the charge with the utmost en- thusiasm. None are farther to the front than they. One of the enemy's color-bearers stands bravely at his post, but on either hand the line is fast melting away. Swiftly leaping over the ground Si and Short}^ present their bayo* THE CHARGE OF THE 200tH INDIANA. nets and demand surrender. There is no alternative, and the flag and its bearer are theirs. At length the eager men are recalled from the pursuit. Back they come with glad shouts of exultation, bringing many prisoners as trophies of their valor. Whatever may have been the fate of battle elsewhere along those rniies of lighting, the 200th Indiana has won its victory. A member of Company Q. a friend of Si, is one of the last to fall, in the moment of triumph. As the regiment is ordered to withdrav/ Si bends over his wounded comrade. 414 VICTORY FOR THE 200TH. "How d'ye feel, Bob?" he asks, with kindly sympathy " Ar' ye hurt much?" "Purty bad, I'm 'fraid," is the answer. "I guess that bullet busted my knee. But we licked 'em, didn't we, Si?'* "Course we did! I knew we was goin' to all the time. You're a brave bo}^, Bob, 'n' I ain't goin' ter leave ye lyin' here. Shorty, jest take my gun, 'n' you march our pris'- ner. Let him carry his flag, 'n' I'll take Bob on my back. Here, Bob, take a swig out o' my canteen.' A draught of water refreshes the sufferer. " Hyar, lemme give ye a lift," says the rebel color-bearer. { "I 'low we're all human bein's if we be fightin' an' killin' each other. He's wounded an' I'm a pris'ner. We ain't none of us cowards an' we kin be friends now." Shorty and the cap- tive gently lift Bob and place him on Si's back. ' ' Grip \'er arms 'round my neck 'n' hang on!" says Si ; and away he ffoes bearino- him to the ;^ V — ^4 A COMRADE IN DISTRESS. rear. The 200th is relieved by a regiment which, thrown into confusion by the attack in the earl^' morning, has been rallied and reformed, and is again ready for battle. The 200th is ordered to the rear for rest and refreshment, and to replenish its cartridge-boxes, that it may be readj' if again called into action. Its wounded are tenderly cared for, but there is no time now to bury the dead. For the present they must lie w'here they fell. The day wears away. All along the line the fierce as- saults of the enemy have been successfully resisted. The A FEARFUL NIGHT. 4-15 threatened disaster of the morning has been averted. More than a third of the men in both armies have been killed or wounded. Some companies and regiments have been for the time almost blotted out of existence. The deepening shadows of that awful night settle down upon the bloody field — upon soldiers weary and worn, blackened by smoke and grime, but yet undismayed — upon great hospital camps filled with thousands of torn and mangled men, whose sufferings tender hearts and willing hands are striving to allay — upon other thousands of W'Ounded who yet lie among their dead comrades, chilled bj' the cruel December frost. It is New Year's eve. CHAPTER XXXI. Scenes after the Battle — Calling the Roll and Burying the Dead. WHO that carried gun or sword through that fear- ful day can ever forget the horrors of the long night which followed ? It was keenly, bitterly cold. The ground and everything upon it was whitened by a frost so heavy that it seemed almost as if snow had fallen. Those w^io had met instant death upon that bloody field were more fortunate than some of their comrades who, desperately wounded, were left far out between the hostile lines, bej^ond the reach of succor. The biting frost supple- mented the dreadful havoc of bullet and shell. Lyingthere under the stars, mangled, bleeding and helpless, the flicker- ing spark of man}^ a life went out in agony. After the fighting of the day had ceased the commander of each army gathered his shattered battalions and estab- 416 SI GROWS SENTIMENTAL. lished his lines for the night, in readiness to meet any emergency. The soldiers of the 200th Indiana — they had nobh- earned the right to be called soldiers now — were ordered to lie upon their arms. No fires were permitted. Hardtack and raw bacon, without coffee, comprised their evening refreshment. Like all the rest, Si Klegg and Shorty were greatly fatigued after the exertion and intense excitement of the day. In the heat of battle they had no thought of weari- ness, but after the fight was done, when mind and heart and body were relieved from the strain, there followed a feeling of extreme exhaustion. They lay down upon the hard, cold earth, between their blankets, and tried to sleep, but could not. The appalling events of the day were be- fore their ej^es in all their awful vividness. The hours since morning had flown as if they were but minutes. Amidst such scenes the senses take no note of time. And yet, look- ing back to the morning, it seemed an age. Occurrences of the previous day were but dimly remembered, as if they belonged to the half-forgotten past. "Shorty," said Si, as they lay shivering with the cold, "w^onder f I killed anybody today! - I tried ter — ye know that — when I was in the fight, but now^ it 's all over I don't like ter think 'bout it." "Them raskils tried hard 'nough ter kill 3'ou 'n' me, Si," said Shorty, '"n" they come purty nigh doin' it, too. How's yer head?" "It's a little bit sore, but that don't amount ter nothin' — only a scratch. It '11 be all right 'n a day er two. But I tell ye," continued Si, taking up the thread of his thoughts, "fightin' 's mighty tough business. I ain't much of a ph'los'pher, but I don't b'lieve all this murderin' 'n' manglin' 's right. Ef I sh'd kill a man up in InjiannyI'd git hung fer it, 'n' it 'd sarve ine right. When ye git down ter hard-pan I can't quite see why 'tain't jest 's cruel 'n' MORE OF SHORTY S PHILOSOPHY. 41? v.'icked ter put a bullet through a man's head or shoot ofi his leg in Teunessee 's 'tis n Injiannj.'' "Ye 're a good, brave bo\'," said Shorty, "'ii'yer gizzard is chucJv full o' sand, but ye want ter git over them squeam- ish notions. Them fellers begun this row, 'n' weVe got ter fight 'em till they quit. Yer idees 's right 'nuff, but ye can't make 'em fit war times. Y^e'll have ter hold 'em a while: they'll keep." "I s'pose that's so, Short^^ Course I ain't goin' tet stan' with my hands 'n m\^ pockets 'n' let a reb shoot me down 'n my tracks 'f I kin help it. The Guvyment s got ter be defended, but I tell ye it's mighty rough on them as has ter do the defendin'. I understand how that is, but I can't git it out o' my head that there's suthin out o' j'int somewhere when people 't pertendsto be civilized, 'n' some on 'em thinks they's Christians, gits up sich a shootin' match 's we had today, when everybody 's bio win' men's brains out 'n'punchin' bay 'nets inter their bodies. I know when ye git a war on yer hands ye've got ter fight it out, 'n' somebody '11 have ter git hurt, but seems ter me there ortn't ter be any war, cept 'mong dogs, 'n' tigers, 'n' heathens. Ma^ notion is that there wouldn't be none, nuther, 'f the men 't got it up was the ones that had ter do all the marchin' 'n' fightin'. If the}^ did screw up their courage to tryit, one day like this 'd cure 'em, I'mthinkin'." "Ib'lieve ye. Si," replied Shorty, "but 's I said, ye've got ter git over bein' so chicken-hearted. I ain't afeard ye won't stan' up ter the rack, fodder or no fodder, after seein' how ye behaved yerself toda}^ but j^e'll feel better jest ter go in on yer nerve 'n' do 'em all the damage ye kin. That's what 3'e're here 'cr. If ye'd been bumped around in the world like me ye'd 've had the senterment all knocked out o' ye same 's I have. Fact is, 1 couldn't hardl}^ tell ^-e what I 'listed fer, 'cause I don't know myself. I s'pose almost every man's got some o' what they calls patri'tism, but I'm more 'n half thinkin' 't when they distributed it 'round 418 PLUCK AND PATRIOTISM. I didn't git quite my sheer on it ; an' ithait?'t growed any sence I've bin soljerin', nuther. I reck'n ye've got more on it, Si, n I have. I can't see 's it makes any diif 'runce ter me, indivijly, whether this country 's cut in two or not. But I'm in fer 't 'n' I'm goin' ter keep peggin' away all the same 's if I was 's full o' patri'tism 's them red-hot speech- ifiers up North that goes around sloppin' over — but they're mighty keerful not to jine the army theirselves. I'm goin' ter try 'n' keep up my eend o' the barg'in, 'n' 'arn my thir- teen dollars a month. There's jest one more thing I w^ant ter say, Si. Ef either on us has got ter git killed, I hope "twon't be you, 'cause you've got lots o' friends 't 'd feel bad. I ain't o' very much ^count, noway, 'n' I don'f; b'lieve anybody's eyes 'd leak over me!'' It was a singular companionship — that of Si and Shorty — their dispositions and characteristics were so differentv but they had been drawn together and held in an ever- tightening clasp that only a fatal bullet could sever. Shorty was a type of the volunteer soldier that w^aa found in every company. All his life he had been buffeted about on a tempestuous sea. A " pilgrim and a stranger," he had few ties of kinship. His intercourse with the world had not tended to the growth and development of the finer sensibilities of human nature. His heart had not known that glowing heat of patriotic ardor that was the impel- ling force of so many who shouldered musket or buck- led sword. He had enlisted, iniluenced, perhaps, in some degree by an impalpable sense of duty, but, as he told Si, hardly knowing why lie did so. He cheered the flag when the others did, very much as though that were part of his duty as a soldier. And yet, notwithstanding all this, there w^as no man in the ranks of the 200th Indiana who would prove more patient and faithful and brave than Shorty. Si's state of mind at this time was a natural condition. It did not indicate any weakening of his patriotic resolu- A CRY OF DISTRESS. 419 tion to do his duty well and faithfullj'. It was the inevi- table reaction after the intense strain of the day upon his mental and physical resources. It seemed to him, as it did to thousands and hundreds of thousands of others,, that war, in the abstract, w^as monstrously cruel and barbar- ous, and to reconcile it with the teachings of his boyhood was no easy task. Many others found the same trouble with this question that he did. After lying for an hour Si and Shorty arose and moved about to warm, by exercise, their benumbed and stiffened limbs. They walked out a short distance to the front, where the watchful pickets were keeping guard. Si's at- tention was arrested by a sound that came from beyond the line. " Hark!" he exclaimed, "d'ye hear that, Shorty?" They listened, and there came to their ears a low moan of pain. Si's tender sympathies were instantly aroused. "Shorty,"said he, "let's seeif wecan't help that poor suf- ferin' man. He'll freeze to death 'fore mornin'. You wait here t'll I go 'n' ask the cap'n, 'n' we'll see 'f we can't bring him in. We don't know how soon we'll be wantin' some- body ter do it fer us." "I'm with 3'e, Si," said Shorty. "Like as not them ras- kils over thar '11 fire at us. If we sh'd be killed, mebbe, if there is anybody up above that keeps the account, he '11 give us a credit mark for tryin' ter help a feller-bein' 't 's in misery; 'n' perhaps it '11 offset a little o' what he's got charged agin us on t'other side. Go ahead. Si, 'n' bring yer blanket with ye. I'll stay here t'll ye come." St hurried back to where the remnantof Company was lying, and made known his wish to the captain. The lat- ter accompanied him to the colonel, who, after commend- ing in the highest terms his gallant conduct m the battle, consented that he might carry out his desire, at the same time warning him of the danger to which he w^ould be exposed. 420 A MISSION OF MERCY. fe^C,- Seizing his blanket Si returned to his comrade. Caution- ing the pickets, so that they might not be fired upon by their friends, the two good Samaritans went upon their errand of mercy. Carefully and stealthily they picked their way — for the enemy's videttes were but a short dis- tance off— guided by the groans that grew more distinct as they approached. Dropping to their knees they crept over the frost-covered ground, among the stiff and whitening forms of the slain. Over that field which a fe^v hours before was the scene of the battle's roar and carnage, now hung the awful silence of night and death. The object of their search la}' in an open spot, beyond which, through the dim starlight, Si and Shorty could see the picket-posts, behind which they knew the hostile sentinels were watching with sleepless eyes. The}' "FOR GOD'S SAKE, HELP ! " could scarccly hope to accomplish their purpose without being discovered. But they shrank not from danger. Slowly they made their way toward the sufferer. "Oh, help, help! For God's sake won't somebody come ! " "Hello, pard!" said Si, in a suppressed tone. "Keep up BORNE SAFELY BACK. 421 yer nerve! We're comin' arter ye, and '11 be thar 'n a minnit !" Flat upon their faces they worked themselves along, with hand and foot, and at length reached the sufferer. There he lay upon the cold earth, a brave boy no older than Si, chilled by the frost, ^weak and fainting from hunger and loss of blood, in an agony of pain. "Good Lord in Heaven bless 'em, both of 'em!" he moaned, as they crept up beside him. The prayer of the penitent thief upon the cross was not more fervent and sincere. "Nevermind that, pard,'' said Si; "all we want now is ter git ye out o' this." With tender touch they raised him gently from the ground and laid him upon the blanket. There was a blaze from one of the enemy's pickets, the sharp crack of a rifle rang out in the clear night air, and a bullet Avhizzed past them. They dropped upon their faces for a moment. "Seems to me," whispered Si, "that Satan hisself wouldn't fire on us 'f he knowed what we was doin'." After a brief pause Si and Shorty started upon their re- turn. For the safety of their charge, as well as their own, they could not arise to their feet and bear off their burden, as they would be certain to draw the enemy's fire. Upon hands and knees they moved him along, a foot or two at a time. It was a slow and laborious task, but they toiled on patiently and perseveringly. Two or three times they were fired upon, but the balls passed harmlessly b}- them. Reaching cover, they were able to walk erect, and were soon within the lines. They bore the wounded soldier to the nearest hospital. There he received the care that might save a life which, but for the rescue, would have expired before the day dawned. •Si and Shortv took the cold hands of the sufferer and bade him good-b}-. 4:22 HEARTFELT GRATITUDE. ' ' I don't s'pose 1 11 ever see je ag'in, ' ' said Si ; " but I hope ye '11 pull through all right, n' I b'lieve ye will. What riji- ment d'ye b'loiig to?' "Hunderd 'n' seventy-fifth Michigan," was the faint reply. "Then we're neighbors when we're to home. I live in In- jianny, 'n' I'm in the bully 200th. I s'pose you've heern tell bout her; she's the boss rijiment." The wounded boy gazed into the faces of Si and Shorty w^ith a look of unutterable gratitude. It was clearly his opinion that if all the members of the 200th were like them, the regiment might well deserve the designation Si had given it. "If ye git well 'n' come back," continued Si, "ye must be sure 'n' hunt up me 'n' Shorty, 'cause we'll be glad tersee ye. My name 's Klegg and my pard's — well I most fergot what his other name is ; we jest calls him ' Shorty.' I hope ye'll find us 'live 'n' kickin' yet." "Ye've been mighty good to me!'' said the young sol- dier. " Ye've saved my life, and I'll never forget ye if I live a thousan' years. God bless ye !" Si and Shorty went back to their post with hearts aglow with pleasure at the thought of what they had done. The night wore slowly away. There were frequent alarms on the picket-line that kept the soldiers in constant trepidation. Regiments and brigades were being moved from one point to another, in preparation for the combat which it was expected would be renewed with the break of day. Themeasured footstepsof the marching battalions creaked upon the frosty ground. Few eyes were closed in sleep, and those only in short, fitful naps that gave little rest to wear}' bodies. For three days the two armies lay like wounded lions, glaring and growling each at the other, with occasional A FERVENT DOXOLOGY. 423 fighting at one point or another on the long and tortuous line. Then, "between two days," the rebel army " Folded its tents like the Arabs And as silently stole away." With the dawn of Sunday morning came cessation of the toil and turbulence of the week. No shot sounded on the picket-line; no cannon thundered its morning alarm. An advance of skirmishers revealed only the de- serted works and camps of the enemy. Victory, so long hanging in the balance, had at last been decided for the Union arms. As if borne upon the wind the glad tidings spread through the army. The air was rent with wild huzzas. Whole regiments united, with a fervor and zest that words cannot describe, in singing to the tune of " Old Hundred :"" • " Praise God from whom all blessings flow." It was not prompted by any sudden ebullition of piety, but to those rejoicing hearts it seemed appropriate to the day and the occasion, and thousands of voices swelled m grand harm on}' till the woods rang with the inspiring sound. For the first time in a week the soldiers, wearied and worn with marching and fighting and nightly watching, stacked arms, threw' off their accouterments, built fires. and disposed themselves for needed rest and refreshment, without fear that crack of musket or scream of shell would summon them to battle. After breakfast Company Q, of the 200th Indiana, was drawn up in line for roll-call, for the first time since the havoc of the fight. One of the lieutenants had been killed and the other wounded. Only the captain remained of the officers. The company looked a mere squad when contrasted with the full ranks with which it went so bravely into battle. There were sad faces and aching hearts as the men thought of loved comrades w^ho had 424 THE SAD ROLL-CALL. tnarched by their side, whose famiHar touch they would feel no more. "Call all the names," said the captain to the orderly, " and let the men answer for their comrades who are not here to speak for themselves. " ''Sargeant Gibsqn." "Killed ; shot through the head! " "Sargeant Wagner." "Here!" "Sargeant Thompson." "Wounded in the thigh while holding the colors. " " Corporal Brown " "Mortally wounded; died the morning after the fight!" "Corporal Klegg. " "Here!" Si's response was clear and full, as if he was proud to be "here." There was a perceptible tremor in his voice, how- ever, for his heart was full of tender memories of those who had gone down before the storm. "Private Anderson." "Here!" "Aultman." " Dead ! fell by my side and never spoke a w^ord !" "Barnes." "Right arm torn off by a piece of shell ; in hospital." "Bow^ler." "Here!" "Connolly." "Killed in the charge when we drove 'em !" "Day." "Here." And so it went on through the list. Little wonder that the captain wept, as he stood with folded arms listening to the responses, and looking with feelings of mingled pride and grief upon what remained of his gallan'^; company! Little w^onder that tears trickled down through the dust BUKYIXG THE DEAD. 425 and grime, over the faces of men strong and brave ! Little wonder that lips quivered and voices trembled with emo- tion, and the words, in answer to the call of the orderly, found difficult utterance ! After the roll was finished the captain tried to speak a few words of compliment to his men, but heart and voice failed him. Vainly striving to control his feelings he bade the orderly dismiss the companj^ and turned away with streaming eves. Later in the day an order was issued for a detail from each company to go upon the field where the regiment fought, and discharge the last sad dut\' — that of gathering and burying the dead. As yet the slain of the army were lying where they fell, scattered over miles of field and copse and wood. The orderly of Company called lor volunteers, and the necessary number stepped proniptU' to the front, Si Klegg and Shorty among them. Picks, spades and stretchers were supplied, and the detachment from the 200th. in charge of an officer, started upon its mournful mission. A suitable spot was selected and a long trench dug, seven feet wide and three feet deep. Then the mangled and stif fened corpses were borne thither upon stretchers. The}- were wrapped in the blankets which they had carried over their shoulders when they went into the fight, and which still encircled their lifeless bodies, reddened by the blood of those who wore them. The men laid their dead comrades side by side in the trench. Then theearthwas shoveled in, and those familiar faces and forms were hidden from the eves of the living. At the head of each was placed a bit of wood, perhaps a fragment of a cracker box, with his name, company and regiment penciled upon it for future identification. Few words were spoken during these sad rites. Hearts were too full. "Shorty, ' said Si, as they marched back to the bivouac, that's the bsst we could do fer the poor boys, but it 'd t.26 "T AIATTERS LlTTl.E. make me feel bad ter think I was goin' ter be buried that way, huiiderds o' miles from home 'n' friends, 'n' 'thout even anybody to speak a prayer. I think a man't willin'ly gives his life fer his country as they did — an' ye know that's jest all a man kin do — desarvessuthin better 'nthat kind o' plantin', like so many pertaters in a row." '*Ye keep gittin' sentermental, Si," replied Shorty. "That's all well 'nough, but it don't matter much what they do with ye after a bullet 's gone through yer head. I'd 's lief be buried oneplace 's nuther. Anyhow, it's apart "we carved not a line, we raised not a stone." o' war. Ye git killed 'n* they dig a hole 'n' tumble ye in. V that's all 't military glory 'mounts to I " That evening the word was passed around that a mail would leave the next morning, and everybody addressed himself to the work of writing brief letters to friends at home. The necessary materials were scarce, but bits of pencils were hunted up and used by one after another in turn. Messages were written on leaves torn from diaries and odd scraps of paper picked up here and there Any- body who had postage stamps divided them around among SI WRITES AGAIN. 42 < his comrades. Uncle Sam ought to have "franked" the letters, but he didn't. By the flickering light of a fire Si wrote — on paper that had found its way to the front as a wrapper for cartridges —a short letter to his mother, and another that ran in this \vay: jan the 4 1860 3 Deer Annie I spose youve saw in the papers bout the awful fite wehad. Yude better blieve we lictem too. Of course taint fer me to brag bout myself an I aint going to but ile jest say that me an Shorty was thar all the time an we dident git behind no trees nuther. I tell ye it washottem a camp meetin. Wun bullet scraped the hare ofifn my hed an nuther nocked the but of my gun into slivers an nuther cut the strap of Shortys haversack thats the bag he carcys his grub in but w^e got out all rite. I had a idee yude be kinder glad to no i dident run and hide in a mewl wagin when the bullits began ter zip. I want yer to think as mutch of me as ye kin an I no a gurl likes a feller wat tries ter be brave an do his dewty bettern she does wun wats a coward. If enny of cumpny Q as was wownded gits hum on furlo I aint afeerd ter have ye ask em how Si klegg stood the rackit. Shorty an me capcherd a rebble flag an the man wat was carryin it. It was mity billyus an i dident bleeve ide ever see ye agin. Maby i wunt cause i spose weve got ter go threw sum more fites but ittle make me feel awfle bad if i dont fer ive tliot a heap of ye durin these days. I hoap ye think bout me as oflen as i do bout yu. But Sciy Annie i doant want ter fite haf as bad as i did afore taint funny a bit. Rut the 200th is a bully rijiment an ime goin ter stick by her jest the saims ime goin ter stick by yu. Thares lots o things ide like to rite but i cant row as i haint enny more paper an i got this oflfen a packidge of catridges. if yu luv me as i luv yu kMO nife can cut ower luv intu. Yourn frever Si Klegg- CHAPTER XXXII. The 200th Indiana has a Protracted Turn of Fatigue Duty— Si Wrestles with Pick and Shovel and Tries to Outflank THE Doctors. 4 i T""^ VERY man must be ready tomorrow mornln' for t ^ fatigue duty!" said the orderly of Company Q, one evening. "There ain't goin' to be any playin' off, fer everybody's got to turn out!" What the nature of the duty was, or how much "fatigue" there would be in it, the orderly did not say, if, indeed, he knew. It Was always characteristic of soldiers during the first few months of their service that they wanted to know about everything that was going on or that was expected to happen. The proverbial curiosity of woman dwarfed into insignificance beside the consuming desire in the breasts of the raw soldiers, to find out what the generals were going to do next. Whenever an order was given, a volley of conundrums was fired at the officers — where were they going and what for? what was to be done, and why? The answers were generally so unsatisfactory that they knew even less about it, if possible, than before. They came gradually to realize that the whole duty of a soldier was contained in the single word "obey" — without asking any questions. They would find out soon enough what- ever was necessary for them to know^ 428 SHORTY HAZARDS AN OPINION. 429 •'Wonder what's up now!" said Si Klegg, as he and Shorty walked back to the tent after the company was dismissed. "I ain't sartin," replied Shorty, "but IVe an idee they're goin' ter put us to diggin'. When I was out with the de- tail after wood yisterdy I seen a lot o' ossifers surveyin' 'n' squintin' 'round 'n' drivin' stakes, 'n' I hearn 'em talk 'bout fortifyin' ; so I shouldn't wonder 'f we w^as 'lected fer a job. Looks 's though spades d be trumps fer a while ! ' ' Si and Shorty talked the matter over before going to sleep and made up their minds to go along the first day without any fuss and see what kind of work they had on their hands. If it proved to be heavy and continuous they could, from timetotime, make judicious use of their ability to"playoflf." "Guess we kin stan' it fer one day," said Si, as he rolled over, pulling the blanket from Shorty, "but I tell ye what, I ain't goin' ter make a nigger o' myself 's long's my name 's Si Klegg. Talkin' bout niggers, there's thousands on 'em lyin' 'round doin' nothin'; why don't the Guvyment make them do the diggin' ? I ain't no statesman, but it looks ter me 's though 'f anybody 's goin' ter have any good out o' this war the niggers '11 git the most on it. Ef I had my way I'd make 'em help some way er ruther!" " 'Tain't no use ter phlosofize or argefy 'bout the war 'n' what's goin' ter come of it," replied Shorty, drawing the blanket over his lean limbs. "In the fust place 3'ou 'n' me don't know nothin' 'bout sich things, 'n' in the next place 'twouldn't make a diff o' bitterence 'f we did. We hain't got nothin' ter sa\% nohow; so don't \q bother yer head with what b'longs ter the poll\'tishuns. That's wdiat they're fer. Mighty few on 'em comes down here ter git shot at. Now let's dry up 'n' go ter sleep !' In the mornins breakfast call sounded early. As the 430 "playing off." bugle notes floated over the camp the boys joined in with the well-known words : The order for fa- -V — N-#-hi — i-\ — I *i — s — ^-*-^ tigue duty seemed to have an Unfavor- Hard tack and sow-bel-lee! Hard tack and sow-bel- able effect upon the r-^r-r^^-^— ^r .— ^-^r-^- liealth of the com- — j — J- -* T— N — ^-i— • N — ^ — i-i-0--j-0— -N — ^-;-#— I mnv At 1eflvith coffee and sugar, and away they went. The cracker boxes were quickly "busted" and the ravenous soldiers were told to help themselves. "Thar!" exclaimed Si, as he and Short}' flung down a box of hardtack with such force as to break it open, "them rebils thought they had a purty good hand, but we've made 'high, low. Jack' a-readj^ 'n' in a day er two we'll give 'em a lively tussle fer the 'game." We've jest got the keerds ter do it with nov^!" While Si was indulging this patriotic outburst he had stuffed his pockets full of hardtack and slashed off" a liberal supply of bacon. Shorty in the meantime had filled two tin cans with sugar and coffee, and they at once set about active preparations for the first "square meal" they had had in many a day. With a cracker and a slice of raw bacon, from which they took alternate mouthfuls, in one hand, they kindled a fire with pieces of the box, and in ci few minutes had a quart or two of steaming coffee. Each man preferred to make his own, as this could be clone so much more quickly than to boil a camp-kettle, with a supply for the company. ^' Don't that coffee taste good, Shorty?" said Si, as he quaffed the fragrant elixir from an old cup that was black with long usage. "An' them hardtack, I don't keer 'f they was baked B. C, they goes right to the spot." Shorty attended strictly to the business in hand, leaving most of the talking to Si, who could talk and eat at the same time without prejudice to either. It took a good while to fill the vacuum that had so long existed under their blouses. At length they could eat no more. Si arose with a feeling of internal comfort to which he had long been a stranger. "Look at them britches. Shorty," he said, with a broad smile of satisfaction, as he tenderly placed his hand where his body was distended by the large deposit of commissary ON THE OUTPOSTS. 4G5 supplies, "this 's the fust time 'n a month 't I've come anywheres nigh a-fillin' of 'em. They've been flappin' 'round me 's if I was a scarecrow stuck up 'n a cornfield. I'd a-had ter take a reef in 'em 'f the grub hadn't come. My legs 'n' arms 's purty thin 'n' I reck'n my face 's a leetle peaked, but 'twon't take me long ter fill 'em out 'f they keep the cracker-line open. I hain't had no glass ter look at myself lately, 'n' I'm glad on it, but I c'd feel the bones stickin' out." There was feasting all through the camps. The con- sumption of rations exceeded anything that had ever before been known in the history of that army. Men on duty were not forgotten by their comrades, who supplied them liberally with food and flagons of coffee. The next morning it was Company Q's turn to go on picket. With plent}^ of rations in their haversacks, the men marched with light step to their posts of duty. Si was stationed on the bank of a stream, on the opposite side of wdiich were the rebel pickets. By tacit agreement a spirit of comitj^ prevailed along the outposts, and the sentinels refrained from firing at one another, so long as no active military operations were in progress. The shoot- ing of a picket under such circumstances was barbarous. It coidd have no possible effect upon the result of a cam- paign, and was simply murder, without the excuse that actual conflict gives to man to kill his fellow. This prin- ciple w^as generally recognized on both sides during periods of inaction, and rarely was it violated. The two or three men who were with Si had scarcely more than disposed themselves behind the little barricade — built for a protection in case the other fellows should break the implied contract — when a call from the other bank was heard.* * '^he dialog which follows, between Si and the Confederate, is sub- stantially the same as the writer listened to one day in 1863. It is as nearly a reproduction as memory can recall. It illustrates the state of ^6b A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES. "Hello, Yank!" " Hello, Johnn}^ !"" responded Si. "I 'low you-all ain't goin'fer to shoot a feller this mornin,' ar'ye?" "No, not 'nless 3^ou goes to pepperin' vs. Ef you begins It ye'd better look out, fer we've got some fresh catridges — sure pop every time !" "All right, Yank, that's a go. Lay down yer shootin' iron 'n' come outen yer hole. Squat down on the bank 'n' less talk it over." In such cases a sol- dier's word could be taken with s a f e t y , whether he wore the blue or the gray. Si was in good spirits, and in the humor for a little chaffing. He at once went out and sat down at the edge of the stream, which was not wide, and a Confederate soldier, unkempt and un- ' ^^ 'v-'^.- shaven, clad in "but- "hello, johnny!"— "hello, yank!" ternut," came out on the other side. The latter opened the interview : "Got plenty o' grub now, hain't ye?" "Bet yer life!'' said Si.- "Been pinched right smart 'long back, I reck'n." "Wall, we could ha' et more 'f we'd had it. but we man- feeling that under sucli conilitions existed between men who at other times sought to take one another's life in the fierce conflict of battle. It was one of the anomalies of the war. YANK AND JOHNNY. 467 aged to wiggle through. I think it was mighty mean of you fellers ter cut our cracker-line 'n' keep it cut so long. We don't mind bein' short a day er two once 'n a while; it jest gives us a good appetite fer army grub. But ye spread it on most too thick this time, pard !" "Oh, it's all fair 'n war, ye know; we-uns 'lowed ter squeeze you-all t'll ye'd have ter cave in er climb out o' that. We had ye foul, 'n' we'd ha' done it 'f ye hadn't brung down them other Yanks to help ye out. I heerd the gin'ral say myself 't ye couldn't stan' it much longer. I reck'n it sort o' sickened him when he heerd the ke-yars a-tootin' y istuday. Some o' the boys was savin' that you- all was gittin' reinforced big, 'n' when the whistles blowed we knowed the jig was up. But all the same w^e're goin' ter git a twist on ye one o' these da^^s." "Don't be too sartln o' that," said Si. "The boys 's purty mad 'cause ye cut off their s'plies 'n' ye hain't seen no sich fightin' yet 'n this 'ere war 's they'll show ye nex' time they gits a hackle at ye. We're goin' right through ye." "Wall, now, 'f I railly b'lieved that I'd think 'bout startin' now! But say, don't you Yanks do a heap o' blowin'?" "Mebbe we does, but we alius gits thar arter a v/hile. Ye know that, yerself. Ye don't do jest 's we want ye ter sometimes, but ye keeps backin' up all the time." "We've only jest been drawin'ye on. We've got ye right whar we want ye, now, 'n' we ain't goin' ter git back no furder. You put that 'n yer pipe 'n' smoke it. But I'd like ter know what you-all come down here ter fight us fer, anyway, 'n' tryin' ter steal our niggers. What good '11 they do ye when ye git 'em?" "Now, pard, ye can't git me inter no argyment 'bout that, 'cause I ain't no politician. All I know 'n* all I want ter know is, that 3^ou rebels 's fightin' agin the flag o' ver country, 'n' anybody 't does that 's goin' ter git wal- 4<68 COMMERCIAL INTERCOURSE. loped mighty bad. Abe Lincoln didn't set yer niggers free t'll arter he'd gi'n ye fa'r warnin'. Ye niout a-had 'em yet 'f ye'd laid down yer arms 'n' behaved yerselves. Now ye've got ter take the consekences." "That's all right, Yank. You're on one side 'n' I'm on t'other. We both thinks we's right. Ther' didn't nary one on us have anything ter do 'th gittin' up this war. Them as did stays ter home 'n' don't do no fightin' 'cept Avith their chins. You 'n' me don't want ter have no hard feelin's^ 'cause we kaint help it. Our cussin' 'n' 'discussin' don't 'mount to nothin', nohow. Saj^, ye don't want ter sling over a hardtack, do ye? We don't have none only what we gobbles f m you-uns, 'n' I'm gittin' dog-goned tired o' livin' on corn-dodgers!" "Wall I declar', Johnny, ef ye hain't got more cheek 'n a mule, arter cuttin' off our rations so 't we didn't git but one cracker a day, 'n' mouldy 'n' full o' worms at that. Ef a bullet ever hits ye 'n the face 't won't hurt ye any. The hide on it 's thicker 'n a 'noceros. I can't spar' 'em very well now 'cause I've been empty fer a good while 'n' I hain't got filled up yet. But ther' ain't nothin' mean 'bout me. What ye got ter trade fer one ?" "Nothin' but terbacker. I'll throw ye a hunk o' that." "I don't chaw!" said Si. "Ye don't! What kind of a soljer ar' ye 'n' don't chaw terbacker?" " Some likes it 'n' some don't, 'n' I hap'n ter be one o' them as don't. But ye may toss 'er over; my pard, Short}-, he chaws 'nuff fer both on us, 'n' he'll be glad ter git it. Terbacker 's bin mighty skeerce, 'n' he's been doin' some tall growlin'." "Look out, here she comes !" The Confederate threw over a good-sized lump of ' 'twist," and Si sent a 4-inch hardtack sailing through the air. "I'm bleeged ter ye, Yank. If ye ever git 'n front o' my gun I hope it'll miss fire, 'n' 'f I ever take ye pris'ner I'll SI HAS SOME MORE " VIEWS." 4-69 treat ye tip-top. I'd like powerful bad terhave some coffee 'n' some salt. Ye hain't got a leetle ^^e kin tie up "n a rag 'n' throw over, have ye?" "'Pon my word I hain't, pard,ner I hain't got no rag less I tear off" a piece o' my shirt. I guess ye'll have ter wait t*ll some other day. I reckon we'd better dry up now er the ossifers '11 git after us. Good-by, Johnny." ''Good-by, Yank." CHAPTER XXXV. Corporal Klegg Bears the Flag of the 200th to Victory and is Wounded. i i C^ I, are ye hungry fer 'nother fight?" asked Shorty a ^.^3 f^^v evenings later, as he sat by the fire, frying- pan in hand, carefully preparing a mess of " lobscouse " for supper. "Wall," replied Si, "I dunno 's I've ever felt 's though I was reely starvin' fer a battle sence that fust big one w^e had. That sorter took the edge off'n my appetite fer fightin', 'n' I reck'n it w^orked the same way with most o* the boys, 'cause they don't sa}' nothin' more 'bout han- kerin' arter it. I heern more o' that sort o' talk in one hour, right away arter we j'ined the army, wdien we was trampin' 'round the country tryin' ter find the Johnnies, than I does now in a hull month o' Sundays. Ye know 'tain't nat'ral ter w^alk right up w'har j^e're likely ter git killed the next minnit. When a feller 's heerd the bullets a-buzzin' 'n' the shells a-bustin' right smart fer once, he can't very well help feelin' 's though he'd had 'nuff. Ther' don't nobody like ter have holes 'n his hide 'f he c'n git out of it. Ther' 's a few o' the boys 't alius manages to wiggle 470 SI AND HIS "double." out o' goin' inter a fight, 'ii' I don't blame 'em 's much 's I used ter, 'cause I know how I feels myself. Course I don't think s' much 'bout it ^rter I'm in 'n' gits purty well ex- cited, but I tell ye. Shorty, every time I begin ter hear them pesky things a-zippin', I'd a heap ruther be hoein' corn 'long 'th dad." "I hain't never seen ye act 's though ye felt that way," said Shorty. "It's the fust time I've ever told ye 'bout it, 'n' I s'pose ye've alius thought I was brave 's a lion, but I ain't. When we're goin' inter a fight, seems 'sif ther' was twoSiKleggs. One on 'em wants ter run mighty bad, 'n' ef I sh'd do 's he says I'd more 'n scoot out o' thar, every time. But I know we can't never lick the rebils that way, 'n' so I jest says to that other Si, 'Now ye've o-ot ter face the music, 'n' I won't have no more o' yer white-livered nonsense. Ye can't git out of it, 'cause ef ye try I'll jest blow yer brains out, ef ye've got any.' That settles it 'n' I don't have no more trouble t'U the next time, 'n' then it's the same thing over ag'in. 'Pears like I never could make father feller — I mean the one 't ain't me — behave his- self I reck'n 't sometimes the wrong part 's the biggest, 'n' that's what's the matter 'tha few o' the boys. They's made that way 'n' they can't help it. Ye know how I hates a coward — I mean one o' them critters that's so a-purpose, 'cause he don't wa/3tterbenothin'else — but some o' them as hain't got the sand I'm sorry fer. They don't mean ter do it but that t'other feller jest carries 'em right off. My sand'd ha' run out 'fore this 'f I'dha'/et it. There was that poor fellow 't they court-martialed and shot t'other day fer flingin' away his gun 'n' runnin' in that last fight. I don t reck'n ye've fergot it — I know I shan't right away — our bein' drawed up 'n a holler square while the detail o' soljers riddled him 'th bullets. I s'pose they've got ter have sich things in Vx^ar, but I tell ye the shootin' o' that boy 'n cold blood was the hardest thing HOW SHORTY LOOKS AT IT. 471 I've looked at sence I've been soljerin'. I couldn't help thinkin' 't might ha' been inc, 'f I'd weakened a leetle bit that day o' the battle. Pity they couldn't ha" shot jest that part that made him run, 'n' there d been 'nuff on him left ter make a fust-rate soljer. I'm glad he didn't b'long ter Company Q, 'n' I'm gladder yet "t I wasn't one o' them as had ter shoot him. I'd ruther fight rebils fer a month hand-runnin' 'n ter ha' done that. It'd be a fust- rate notion 'f they c'd diskiver some way ter tell them as has got sand, when they're 'xaminin' 'em fer 'listin', and then bounce all them that's short. It 'dbe better 'n wait in' ter find out by tryin', after feedin' 'n' clothin' 'em so long. I'm afeard it 'd ha' been a tight squeak 'th me 'f they'd had a machine o' that kind the time the doctor made me peel mj^self." "Look out, thar, pard," said Shorty, "ye're lettin' the coffee bile over while ye're a-speechifjan'. S'posin' ye give us a rest now 'n' less eat supppr. This 'ere stuff 's done." "Ye was wound up fer keeps, w^a'n't ye, Si; I thought ye'd never run dowm!" continued Shorty, as they filled their cups with coffee, and made a simultaneous attack upon the heap of "lobscouse" which Shorty had emptied upon a tin plate that looked as if it had been dug out of the ruins of Babylon. "I didn't s'pose ye had s' much phlos'phy inside yer clothes. Lemme tell ye, Si, 'tain't nothin' agin a man ter be afeard, pervidin' he don't let it git away with him. That's the kind of a man you be, 'n' I tries hard ter be that v/ay myself. 'Cordin' ter my no- tion it's a brave man 't knows ho^v unhealthy 'tis 'mong the bullets 'n' shells but has got the spunk ter go right up into 'em w^hen the orders says so. That's the kind o' men 't makes stayers. The gin'rals goes 'long 'th the bo\'s — that is some on 'em does — but I tell ye they don't love them whizzin' things no more 'n you 'n' me does. But 's I was sayin' Si, I shouldn't be s'prised 'f we had a big scrimmage termorrer er nex' day. " 4'72 TICKLING THE ENEMY'S FLANKS, "Well, I'm ready!" said Si, with quiet soberness. It was rarely that the men knew, save from their own intuitions, when a battle was about to take place. Some- times a fight was brought on suddenly and unexpectedly even to those in command. It was no doubt best that a soldier should not know beforehand that he was to engage the enemy. He was, perhaps, not always fully prepared to die, from a theological pomt of view, and yet he must be read}'— and willing — to meet death at any moment. The uncertainty of life, even under the most favorable condi- tions, was vastly increased in the army. Looking back to those awful years, v^hen companies and regiments were almost annihilated by successive fiery tempests, memory recalls with amazement the stoical indifference to which the soldier schooled himself. He came to look unmoved upon the ghastliest scenes, and in the excitement of battle the peril to his own life was scarcely remembered. When deliberate preparations were made for battle, the signs of the impending conflict were clear enough to those who kept eyes and ears open. Shorty had noticed these indications for a day or two and had readily formed the opinion he expressed to Si. It proved to be correct; nor had they long to wait. Even while they were talking the Union forces were moving on the extreme right and left to "feel of" the enemy. "Jest listen at that!" said Shorty, as a sharp rattle of musketry was heard in the distance, soon followed by the booming of artillery. "They're ticklin' 'em on the flanks to stir 'em up. You see 'f we don't git orders t' night that means business !" "We're goin' ter make them Johnnies skedaddle this time," said Si, as he jumped at the sound of the guns and began to put on his accouterments. " We're goin' ter git even with 'em fer keepin' our haversacks empty so long." Moved by a common impulse the men, w^ithout waiting AN ARMY SUPERSTITION. 473 for orders, seized their arms and fell into line, to be ready for whatever might happen. Si took a " deck " of cards from his blouse pockeb and gave them a fling, scattering them far and near upon the ground. "What ye doin' that fer?" asked Shorty, who had none of the sentiment that prompted the action. Indeed, when called upon to give a reason Si was unable to reply in a manner satisfactory even to himself, so he simpK' said he didn't know. "If ye'd kep' 'em in yer pocket 'n' a bullet sh'd hit ye thar them keerds mout ha' saved yer life," said Shorty, who looked at the mat- ter in a practical way. Even this suggestion failed to impress Si and he made no attempt to gather them up. He told Shorty that they were about worn out, anyway, and after the fight was over he would buy a new pack from the sutler. He was afraid his comrade would laugh at him if he should tell him that he did not want to be killed with cards in his pocket. Like thousands of other good boys, Si did not know the difference between an ace and a ten-spot when he went to the army. He had never turned truant when his father set him to digging potatoes, by stealing away to a neigh- bor's barn and playing seven-up in the hay-mow. He never gambled in the army, save when, only once, he was beguiled from the path of virtue by the seductive allure- A MISDEAL. 474 SOLDIERS WITH PRESENTIMENTS. ments of "chuck-a-luck;''' but he learned to play caids purely as a diversion, to while away the tedious hours. On this ground he satisfied his conscience; yet he never came to consider a pack of cards as a means of grace. Si was not the only soldier to whose mind the sound of guns brought such feelings. Often the ground in rear of a line moving to battle was as thickly strewn with well- worn cards as if they had snowed down. Many of the boys waited until they were sure there was going to be a fight, only flinging away their cards when there was no longer a reasonable doubt on that score. It was a good thing for the sutlers. After a battle, trade was lively in this article of merchandise. But there was really no occasion for Si to throw away his cards so soon, for the 200th Indiana was not called upon to do any fighting that night. As darkness settled down over the armies the firing on the flanks ceased. The pickets were reinforced and doubly cautioned to be vigi- lant. All through the camp orders were given for the men to lie upon their arms. Muskets and accouterments were carefully inspected, cartridge-boxes filled, and extra rounds issued to each man. Haversacks and canteens were replenished, brief letters were hastily written to far-away northern homes, and the army lay down to rest. There were always some who had, or thought they had, presentiments of death just before going into a battle, and it was their habit to place money, watches and other valuables in the possession of comrades who, they seemed to think, would be more fortunate, although in every respect as likely to fall as themselves. They did not on this account shrink from danger. Indeed there was no more sublime courage than that which carried a soldier with unfaltering step into the enemy's fire when he believed he was marching to his death. It is not probable that those whose minds were clouded by presentiments sulTered WATCHING FOR THE FOE. 475 any greater ratio of mortality than those who \vere free from such forebodings.* There was another class the opposite of these, who did not believe — at least they said they didn't — that any mis- siles had been or could be made that would hit them. There were many times when to be fully persuaded of this \vould have been extremely comforting. The truth is, however, that the cruel bullets of the enemy made sad havoc with these pleasing hallucinations. But when a man was pos- sessed of this belief it was easier for him to be brave than for his comrade who was continually standing in a ceme- tery'- and looking into an open grave. Si Klegg did not belong to either of these classes. His mind was not shadowed by constant visions of death, nor did he delude himself with the belief that he bore a charmed life. In common with most of the soldiers, his first battle had given him a full realization of the danger, but he was ever ready and willing to meet it at the call of dut\\ It was this spirit of entire self-abnegation that made a man a soldier, with all that the w^ord implies. Long before daylight the army w^as up and in line of battle, standing at arms in the trenches. The men, elbow to elbow, grasped their muskets more firmly as a shot was heard now and then on the picket line. They heeded not the damp and chilling air as they peered with eager eyes into the darkness, to catch the first sign of the enemy's possible approach. Along the lines of the besiegers, * The writer was twice made the custodian of the effects of a comrade who was always sure he would be killed. The third time he had a pre- sentiment that the writer would be killed, too, and put his watch and money into the hands of another. The latter was tctken prisoner and the valuables were "ijobbled" by his captors. After that th«' comrade had no more presentiments and acted as his own treasurer. Pie went throvigh every battle in which the regiment participated and was not even touched. 476 CALCULATING THE CHANCES. Upon the hills and ridges, the vigilant foe was watching. No fires gleamed on the crests. In the darkness and silence the two armies waited for the dawn that should usher in another bloody day. "Shorty,"" said Si in a low voice, as the first faint light revealed the neighboring heights, crowned with earth- works and bristling with cannon, *'ef we don't make thera fellers git off'n thar today I ain't no good at guessin'. They've been a-havin' things purty much 's they wanted 'em fer a while back, 'n' now it's owr turn. All we wants is fer the gin'rals ter jest give us a chance." "We'll wait 'n' see," replied Shorty. '"Twon't be no easy job, I c'n tell ye, ter go up them hills 't they've been fortifyin' all the time we've been lyin' here, 'n' the Johnnies swarmin' 'n the works 'n' pourin' down bullets 'n' grape. We'll try it ef the gin'ral says so, but I hain't no longin' arter that sort o' thing. Ther' '11 be a good many on us 't wont git ter the top 1 ' ' Si did not answer, but stood, with serious face, looking earnestly toward the heights on which lay the hostile army, as if calculating the probable result of a mighty rush upon the foe. " Half an hour for breakfast !" The daylight had fully come, and one wing of each regi- ment at a time was directed to retire a short distance for the morning meal. '"Eat hearty, boys," said the orderly of Company 0. "Looks like we'd got business on hand, an' we may not git nother chance 'fore night." Hastily, but quietly, coffee was made, and bacon toasted on sticks and ramrods. The men sat down in little groups, drawing crackers from their haversacks, and with keen appetites proceeded to strengthen themselves for the duties of the day. "I wonder how many of Company Q '11 be makin' coffee tomorrow mornin' !" said one of the boys. Although FOREBODINGS REBUKED. 477 nothing was known of the contemplated movement ex- cept by inference, it was well understood that a great battle was pending. "Now, pard, don't go ter talkin' that way," said Si, '"cause it makes a feller feel kind o' streaked, 'n' 't don't do no good, nohow. Soljers has ter fight er they wouldn't be soljers; 'n' some on 'em has ter git killed. Like'y 'nufif it'll come 'round ter my turn today, but what's the good o' stewin' 'bout it ? Comp'ny Q 's goin' ter git thar 'f any on 'em does, 'n' I calkerlate to be up 'mong the boys 'nless suthin stops me. The 200th Injianny hain't done nothin' yet ter be 'shamed of, 'n'ldon'tb'lieve she w^ill -when we go fer them raskils 't cut our cracker- line." Si's words of cheer and hope were not without their effect, and the dismal in- quiry suggested by his comrade was not pursued. Before they had finished their breakfast every ear was startled by the boom of cannon, with sharp successive volle3'^s of musketry two or three miles to the right and left. The movement had begun simultaneously on both flanks. "Thar goes the music!" exclaimed Shorty. "Choose yer pardners fer the dance !" "I jest hope we c'n make them rebils sashay ter the BREAKFAST BEFORE THE FIGHT. 478 "we're drivin' 'emI" rear I" said Si, as he poured down the last of his coffee and seized his musket. To the right and left the firing each moment grew heav- ier, telling that the storm had burst. The men hurried back to their places at the front, and stood with every nerve and sense strained to the utmost. Nothing could surpass the intensity of eargerness with which they watched for tidings of the conflict. "How s it goin'?" was asked by a hundred voices of an orderly who went dashing by. "They say weVe drivin' 'em !" was the answer. "I knowed it !" said Si, as he swung his hat and joined in the yelling that followed this announcement. Whether true or not it raised the spirits of the soldiers to a high pitch. Si yelled and shouted whenever he saw or heard any- thing that stirred his emotions. He had never before felt so strong a personal interest in any battle. Aside from his devotion to his bleeding and distracted country, his sufferings from hunger, during the weary weeks, for which the rebels were responsible, were to be avenged. "Now they're goin' fer 'em!" he shouted, when the sharp firing indicated hot work. "Give 'em — " In his ex- citement Si came very near uttering a word that always seemed to fit in such cases — the "Revised Version" had not yet softened it into "gehenna" or "sheol" — but remember- ing the teachings of his early j^outh and switching off his tongue just in time, he only said: "Give 'em Hail Colum- bia!" This was patriotic, and on the whole satisfactory as an expression of his feelings. Now the order was passed along the line to be prepared for an advance at a moment's notice. There was little occa- sion for this, as every man in that impatient army was ready and eager to go forward at the word of command. The increased roar of artillery and the sharp rattle of musketry told of fierce fighting on the flanks. As the THE BUGLES SOUND "FORWARD." 479 direction of the sound indicated the steady advance of the Union forces, cheer after cheer swept through the compact battalions that formed the center. "Look there, boys, quick ! ' exclaimed Si, his eyes flash- ing with excitement, as he pointed to the loftiest height that had been long occupied by the besieging host. In an instant all eyes were fixed upon the point. The scene was one to make the blood leap through a sol- dier's veins. On the summit could be seen the smoke of battle and the rebels giving way before the victorious blue-coats. Flags were dimly discerned that the soldiers knew were the stars and stripes. Forty thousand men looked upon the glorious spectacle, and fort^^ thousand voices joined in a shout of gladness that rolled in billows along the lines, filling the air with its mighty volume, and echoing from the surrounding hills. Now is the time for a general advance. Never were sol- diers in fitter mood for deeds of supremest valor. A bugle sounds at army headquarters. Through all the divisions and brigades men who have long stood waiting for this signal raise their bugles to their lips and the shrill notes ring out upon the air. ** Forward!" is the word. It Is the only thought in the breast of every soldier. The men leap over the works, and the long line, with flags waving and muskets flashing in the sunlight, moves steadily and grandly on. " Battalion — Double-quick — March! " shouts the colonel of the 200th Indiana. The regiment, in prompt obedi- ence, advances rapidly until the proper distance is reached, when it is hastily deployed into a heavy skirmish-line, covering the brigade front. Half a mile away are the enemy's pickets. Beyond, skirting the foot of the range of hills, are the rifle-pits, behind which, with loaded muskets, the rebels are awaiting the onset. The high ridge is surmounted by works that many thousands of men have been weeks in building. A 480 LIE DOWN hundred cannon, double-shotted, peer angriJy through the embrasures. Behind them, swarming in the trenches, is the main body of the Confederate army. "Halt— he down!" Half the distance to the enemy's pickets has been trav- ersed. The final disiDosition of the troops is not fully made and a brief halt is necessary. The men of the 200th throw themselves flat upon the ground. The bullets from the enemy's guns are already singing through the air. Now there are flashes of flame and puffs of smoke on the crest of the ridge. The rebel artillery has |; opened with omi- nous roar. Shells come screaming through the air, and, bursting with ter- rifying crack, send their ragged frag- ments whizzing among the pros- trate soldiers. "Steady, men, steady!" Few things that ever fall to the lot HUGGING THE GROUND. of man arc more severely trying than to lie, idle and helpless, under an artil- lery fire. At such a time the stoutest heart quails and the steadiest nerves twinge. The inexperienced reader may think this ought not so to be, particularly after he is in- formed that long-range artillery firing rarely sheds any blood. But let him not form a theoretical opinion as to how soldiers ought to demean themselves under such dr. cumstances. If his life passes without bringing to him an UNCOMFORTABLE MOMENTS. ^Sl Opportunity to lie and quietly enjoy himself in reading or smoking or sleeping while shells are bursting and tearing up the earth around him, let him be satisfied to accept the unanimous verdict of those who have learned froin actual experience and observation. Si wriggled uneasily and fairly ground his nose into the dirt as the swiftly-flyingmissileshurtled about him. When one of them struck uncomfortably near and sprinkled him with earth, he w^as for the moment on the verge of demor- alization. It was not that he was "afraid, "but he did not relish the idea of being under fire without any chance to shoot back. "I'd a mighty sight ruther go ahead,' hesaidto Shorty, "'n' pitch inter them fellers than ter lay here like a log w^hile they're heavin' their old iron round so promisc'us like. I sh'd think they mout ha' got things fixed 'fore w^e started so s we wouldn't have ter stop arter we got up in range o' them pesky guns." It was not to be expected that Si could comprehend all these mysterious ways. Such things often happened. The artillery fire was not wholly ineffectual. Some of the fragments did their ghastly v^ork, and here and tiiere lay a comrade, mangled, quivering and bleeding — dead ot writhing in pain. A staff officer dashes up and says that all is ready. "Attention — Battalion!" shouts the colonel of the 200th. Every man springs to his feet, impatient for the charge. '•'Men, I don't want j^ou to stop till yougetthose rifle-pits. Don't halt to fire, but jump right into 'em with cold steel. Fix — Bayonets! Go!" Now the soldiers are themselves again. There is no shrinking nor dodging, though faster and thicker come the bullets and shrieking shells. In the onward rush the alignment of the regiment is broken. The more eager ones dash forward, regardless o^ company formations, intent only upon reaching the enemy. 482 A SUCCESSFUL FLANK MOVEMENT. They know that when such a job is in hand " 'twere well 'twere done quickly." Others do not get over the ground quite so rapidly. Perhaps the\^ are not less brave than those w^ho are forging ahead, but they do not see the use of being in such a hurry. Then, some men can run faster than others — when they want to. Si's legs are nimble and he is among the foremost, with the faithful Shorty at his side. On they go with flying feet, unmindful of the spiteful zip of bullets or the shells that burst above them Now and then a comrade falls, but none can stay to staunch his wound or receive his last words. The enemy's pickets are powerless to check the on- ward sweep. Some break for the rifle- pits, others stand to their posts until, overwhelm- ed by the tide, they yield them- / <)^^\ YIELDING TO THE INEVITABLE. y{ selves prisoners. In front of Si and Shorty is a fortified post oc- cupied by two plucky rebels who are determined to hold the fort to the last extremity. The shouts of the charging troops are answered with loud yells of defiance. "Flank 'em, pard," says Shorty. Si dashes one way and Shorty the other, and in an in- stant their bayonet^areat thebreasts of the little garrison. "S'render, will ye?" yells Si. There is no escape, and they throw up their hands in token of submission. FORWARD TO THE CREST. 483 "Now 3^ou git back ter the rear, lively. We're goin' fer some more o' you fellers 't cut off our s'plies. Come on, Shorty!" Away go the "Johnnies," while Si and Shorty join the grand sweep for the rifle-pits. Here the struggle is short but fierce. For a few minutes there is a stubborn resist- ance. The rushing tide flows over the embankment and down into the very trenches. Men plunge with their bay- onets and beat one another with the butts of their guns, their voices mingling in wild yells and imprecations and sharp cries of pain. Not long can such a scene continue. The rebels abandon the hopeless contest. Many surrender and others fly. The dead and wounded — blue and gray — are thickly mingled. There is a brief halt, while all along the line the air re- sounds with the shouts of triumph. The objective point of the order to advance has been reached. Shall the men stop here? There are no orders to go further. The pause has given them breath, and now, animated by a single thought, the impetuous soldiers again dash for- ward with a yell. On they go, up the steep side of the ridge, in the face of a hail-storm of bullets and canister from the enemy on the crest. Can mortal man breast this fiery tornado and live? Men fall by scores and hundreds before the deadly blast, but still on and up sweeps the audacious line. Shells are lighted by hand and tossed over the works, to roll down and make havoc among the assailants. Here and there the soldiers waver, but it is only for an instant, and again they push for the summit. How fares the 200th Indiana? It has kept its place at the front, and its fast melting ranks are far up the rugged height. The color-bearer falls. dead. Another carries the banner aloft, but in a moment he, too, is shot down. Now Corporal Klegg slings his gun over his shoulder an:l 484 THE CHARGE UP THE RIDGE. THE VICTORY WON. 455 snatches up the blood-stained staff. With a royal will he waves the flag, shouts to his comrades to follow, and fairly leaps toward the crest. A missile strikes his arm and for a moment there is a keen sensation of pain. But he stops not — heeds it not. The standard is riddled by bullets, but it waves farther up the hill than anj^ other. It will not lose its place so long as Corporal Klegg is able to bear it. Inspired by his example, the men of the 200th who have not been stricken down follow close after. Behind them, and far to the right and left, thousands of brave men are crowding upward. The 200th reaches the top with aloud shout as Si plants its flag on the rebel parapet. The men climb over in the very faces of the rebels. The latter, dazed by the au- dacity of the charge, are seized with a panic and break in confusion. It is folly to fight against men who can go up that ridge in the teeth of such a fire. The day was grandly won. Prisoners and cannon in large numbers were taken. With \^ells and shouts the men pursued the fleeing enemy until exhaustion compelled them to halt. Si was rejoiced that Short}^ had not been touched. They embraced each other and tears of gladness flowed down their cheeks. The colonel came up to Si, shook his hand warmlj^, and complimented him in the highest terms for his gallantry. "I am proud to command such men," he said. Noticing blood on Si's arm, the colonel asked him if he was badly hurt. "Wall, I declar'," replied Si, "I'd fergot all 'bout that. I felt it comin' up the hill, but we was too busy fer me ter bother with it then. I reck'n 'tain't nothin' very serus." The clothing upon the arm was saturated with blood, and a hasty examination showeda serious wound. "You've behaved like a hero, mv bov,'' said the colonel. 4-86 SI AT THE FIELD HOSPITAL. " but you must go at once to the hospital and have your wound cared for." Si had always dreaded the w^ord "hospital," but there was no choice, and he consented to go. As he turned away he said to the colonel : "I rayther guess we got even with them rebils for shuttin' off' our hardtack ! " CHAPTER XXXVI. Si Spends a Night in the Field Hospital and Sees Some of the Horrors of War. SI spent the night as a patient in the field hospital. When he reached that place lie was met by the sur- geon of the 200th Indiana who had been detailed for duty there. Everybody in the regiment, from colonel to mule- driver, knew Corporal Klegg. "Well, Si, they've winged you, too, have they?" "I had ter take m}^ turn gittin'hit. I'm thankful 'tain't no wuss." And Si laughed good-naturedlj^as he looked at his arm. "Say, Doc," he continued, with that eas}' familiarity that characterized his intercourse with high and low, "this ain't nothin' but a scratch. You jest tie it up in a rag 'n' let me go back with the boys. That's a bulh' old musket I've got, 'n' if there's any more fightin' goin' on I want ter keep her blazin' away. I'd like ter pay up the raskils fer pluggin' me." "You're a good bo}'. Si/' replied the kind-hearted sur- geon, "and the 200th Indiana is proud of you, but you had better take my advice and lay up a while for repairs. You will come out all right, but your arm will be sorer THE doctor's verdict, 487 than you think. You have been a good, faithful soldier > and I guess we had better send j'ou home for a few days." Home! The word touched a tender chord in Si's heart. Tears moistened his ej'es in an instant, as before them came a vision of that "dearest spot on earth,'' and thoughts of father, mother, sister and the one that made his slippers. How many long months — years they seemed —had passed since that tearful parting, the day the com- pany left for the war. His lips quivered and his voice trembled as he said : "I'd like ter be to home fer a bit, more 'n I can tell ye, Doctor. It 'd be almost 's good 's goin' ter Heaven. But I don't like ter go back on the old rijiment. Ef I knowed the boys wouldn't be doin' nothin' while I was gone I wouldn't keer so much, but I shouldn't never git over it to have the 200th Injianny gittin' any more glory 'n' me not there to do my sheer." "There's no danger that you will not do your part. Cor- poral. What we want now is to get your arm cured up. You'll get well in half the time at home. And I guess you won't object to having something good to eat for a change. You'll come back as fresh as a pippin." During the conversation the surgeon had carefully cut awaj^ the blood-soaked garments and made an examina- tion of the wound. It was an ugly hurt. The rough, eruel iron had torn away and mangled the flesh down to the bone. "I didn't know 'twas so bad," said Si, as he surve^^ed the injured part. "I didn't feel nothin' but a thump when that thing struck me. I reck'n I was a leetle excited 'bout gittin' ter the top o' that hill 's soon 's any other feller did, 'n' I couldn't think o' nothin' else." "I heard all about how you got there, "said the surgeon. *'Now don't let this knife frighten you. Si. That piece of shell made bad work and I'll have to do a little cutting to get it in shape so that it will heal." 488 DRESSING THE WOUND. " All right, Doctor, slash away ; only so ye don't cut my arm off; I can't spar' that, nohow. I knew some o' the boys has ter, but I'm goin*' ter keep mine hangin' to me 'slong 's I kin. 'Pears ter me it 'd be a great scheme 'f they c'd raise a crop o' men fer soljers with three or four arms'n' legs apiece. Then a feller mout let some on 'em go 'n' have 'nuff left so he c'd git along. No, Doc, I don't want no chloryform ner nothin'. I'll jest see 'f I've got 's much spunk 's I think I hev." And as the surgeon began operations Si clenched his fists and his teeth. The surgeon trimmed off the ragged fragments of flesh, washed the wound tenderly, and bound it up with soothing remedies. " There, my boy," he said, as he fastened the bandage, "that's the best I can do for you now. You are in good health and spirits, and nature will do wonders for you. Many a poor fellow dies just because he gets down in the mouth." Who that marched and fought and endured does not know that a lightsome, plucky spirit was a perennial foun- tain of life and health. Fortunate indeed was he who pos- sessed it, and could meet with cheerfulness the privations and dangers and sufferings incident to a soldier's life. Nothing but the piercing of a vital part could kill such a one. He would fight off the grim monster and recover from frightful wounds, while his gloomy and desponding com- rade, who had received but a mere scratch in comparison, IN THE surgeon's CARE. A PICTURE OF iirDEOUS WAR. 489 would pine away and die There were those who could be cheerful and laugh and even jest while enduring unspeak- able agony of body and in the immediate presence of death. Such men were worth more to their fellow-sufferers than a whole college of surgeons. The warmth of a few genial natures would diffuse itself through a regiment while on the weary march, in fierce heat or drenching storm or winter's cold, or suffering for want of food, and drive away the "blues" — the soldier's greatest enemy — from hundreds of aching hearts. Such a one was Si Klegg. His droll ways and cheery nature were a well-spring of happi- ness and health to himself and a perpetual blessing to those around him. The surgeon arranged a sling in which to carry the wounded arm, and Si began to look about to see if he could render assistance in alleviating the sufferings of others. He had never before seen the awful picture of w^ar presented by a field hospital just after a battle. The horrors of the conflict of arms, and the deadly work of hissing bullet and screaming shell are not realized by the participant, when every nerve is strained to its utmost; when every thought and emotion is dominated by the one overmastering passion of the struggle for victory ; when ihe e\'e looks only toward the foe, and the ear hears not, amidst the roar of musket and cannon, the cry of agony and the moan of expiring life. It is when the calm succeeds the storm, and the ghastly harvest is garnered in the hos- pitals, where, amidst the dead and the dying, the probe and knife and saw, plied by a hundred skillful hands, are busy during all the dragging hours of the night ; while on every hand are heard the screams and groans that pain extorts from the bravest hearts — it is then, and then onl}^, that there comes a full realization of the hideous barbarity of war. Si's sympathies were deeply stirred. His own wound was becoming painful, but he scarcely felt it as the strearH 4-90 AMONG THE WOUNDED. of sj'nipatliy flowed out toward those whose wounds w^ere so much more severe than his owm. All about him they lay, on cots and on the hard earth. The great hospital tents were filled, and mangled and bleeding men covered the ground without. Huge fires were burning at frequent in- tervals to aid the attendants in their work, and to take away the chill from the damp night air. The glare of the flames lighted up the dreadful scene. The surgeons and their assistants moved about with instruments and rolls THE FIELD HOSPITAL. of bandages and cordials. There were amputating tables — some built of rough poles laid side by side, the ends resting upon cross-pieces supported by forked sticks driven firmly into the ground — to which, one after another, were borne those whose limbs were so shattered by the battle's mis- siles that they could not be saved. Around them stood the operators, with hands and arms bared and bloody, in- tent upon their horrid \vork. Here a hand has been torn b}^ a bullet. Bone and mus- cle and tendon are crushed and severed. It has pulled KNIFE AND SAW. 491 trigger for the last time. If it could heal at all it would be but ragged and shapeless, and it were better off. A cloth saturated with chloroform is held to the nostrils, and in a moment the wounded man is unconscious. There is a quick movement of knife and saw, the arteries are closed, the skin is sewed over the quivering flesh, dressings are applied, and the soldier awakes to find that he is crippled forever. He gives place to the next — a brave lad, jDale andfaintfrom loss of blood. A rough fragment of shell has crushed his foot, to the ankle, into a shapeless mass. There is nothing to do but to cut it off. Again the chloroform, the knife, the saw, the needle and the banda^-es. Five minutes suffice for the operation, and the boy opens his eyes to find that he must hobble through life upon crutches. Here is a man with a shattered right arm. He pleads piteouslj' with the surgeons to save it. They tell him it is impossible, and their judgment must direct. He refuses to breathe the stupef)ang anaesthetic, and with his other hand he pushes away the cloth that an attendant attempts to throw over his face. "I don't want none o' that!" he says. "I've got the nerve to stand it, and I'd rather have m}' eyes open and see what's going on. Saw awa}', Doctor, if 3'ou've got to!"' While the gleaming instruments sever bone and flesh he sings in a clear, steady voice, " Yes, we'll rally 'round the flag, boys, rally once again!" Men who lie upon the ground writhing with pain, wounded even unto death, catch the spirit of the brave suf- ferer. Here one joins in the song w^ith tremulous voice; there another greets with a feeble huzza the cheerful, patriotic sacrifice. The surgeons are accustomed to scenes of suf- fering and death, but their hearts are touched and their eyes moisten. In a few minutes only a stump remains. Here comes one borne upon a blanket. Handle him tenderly ! A bullet has plowed its cruel way through his 492 THE GHASTLY WORK GOES ON. thigh. It is a desperate case. Amputations so near the body are accompanied with extreme danger. He is an officer, who fell at the head of his company as he led his brave men over the crest of the ridge. The surgeons hold a hurried consultation. The bone of the limb has been pierced and shivered. The doctors shake their heads dubi- ously. They tell the patient that his only chance of life lies in the knife, and that the operation is likely to result fatally. "There is but one choice to make, " he says. "Proceed !" Ten — fifteen • twenty min- utes, for the op- eration is a seri- ous one, and he is carried from the table, weak iand exhausted. There is little hope that his '~ZZ eyes will see the morrow's sun. A man with one of his legs UNDER THE KNIFE. crushcd aud mangled is brought upon a stretcher. The overpowering pain has for the time dethroned his reason. He utters pierc- ing shrieks and yells, and resists with mad fury those who lift him to the table. A cloth saturated with chloroform is held over his face and in a moment he lies as one dead. Quickly the knife and saw do their work, a dash of water restores him to consciousness, and he is borne away to make room for another. And so, hour after hour, the ghastly work goes on, amidst screams and groans and sighs that are wrenched from unwilling lips. There are men with mutilated faces THE LENGTHENING ROW OF DEAD. 493 — an eye gone, an ear torn off, a jaw crushed to frag- ments. Charging through that leaden hail, necks and shoulders were torn b}^ hissing btills. Here are men with pierced lungs — men through whose bodies in every part, bullets have passed. Many of those thus stricken down lie where they fell, on the rugged side of yonder ridge or beside the cannon that belched from its summit. These yet survive their awful wounds. A few — here and there one among them — will recover in a measure, and will live through 3^ears of suffering, and yet ever}^ moment in the presence of death. To the rest, upon whom the surgeons exhaust their skill in the hopeless effort to give relief, the final muster-out will come in a few hours or days or weeks. Far into the night the \vounded continue to arrive from the battle-field, borne upon stretchers or blankets or carried in the succoring arms of their comrades. They are chilled by the dews, and their reddened garments are as if starched by the stiffening blood that has flowed from their wounds. One by one they pass under the hand of the surgeons and are laid in rows upon the ground, where the nurses can serve them with food and water and remedies to allay their pain. One needs not to be told to tread with gentle feet as he passes through the tents and between the long lines of prostrate forms without. Death is all around. Here, there and yonder the breath comes feebly, and the heart beats more faintly with each passing moment. Ever and anon the flickering spark of life goes out in a breast that a few hours ago was bared to the battle-storm. The dead are removed from among the living. Here lie their pulse- less forms, each covered with a blanket. Tomorrow the spade will perform its sad office. A long trench will be dug and thev will be laid in, side by side, without shroud or cotfin, and the earth will be heaped above them. At roli -call their comrades will answer "Dead!" They have made the supreme sacrifice for country's sake. 4.94 A WELL-KNOWN VOICE. Willing hearts and hands find plenty to do in attending to the needs of the patient sufferers. Men who bear arms cannot be spared for this. Their post of duty is at the front. Here is work for the non-combatants — chaplains, musicians, clerks and others. Their duty in time of action is to bear the wounded from the field and care for their wants, under the direction of the surgeons. Many of the injured who are not wholly disabled render such ser- vice as they can to their more severely wounded comrades. One of the most active and efficient among these was Corporal Klegg. Giving little heed to his own wound, hour after hour he passed from one to another, performing his kindly offices. There were many from his regiment, and to them he naturally devoted his efforts. His pleas- ant face and v^ords of encouragement brought cheer to many a sad heart. "Hello, Si!" It was a familiar voice, that Si would have recognized among a thousand. Turning quickly around he looked into the glad face of his friend Shorty. "I declar', old pard, I'm glad to see ye," he exclaimed, and his manner left no room to doubt the sincerity of his words. '*Whar 'd ye come from. Shorty? Seems 's though I hadn't seen ye fer a dog's age. Whar's the riji- ment at? Did ye have anj^ more fightin' arter I left ye?*" ' ' I kin answer j-er questions better. Si, ef yell fire 'em one 't a time, and not shoot off a hull volley of 'em to oncet," said Shorty with a laugh. "I s'pose ye warn't expectin' ter see me, but I couldn't stan' it 'thout findin' out how bad je was hurt, 'n' how ye was gittin' 'long. 'Tain't more 'n a couple o' miles to whar the rijiment 's lyin'. Ther' ain't no scrimmagin' goin' on; I reck'n the Johnnies got 'nuff today to last 'em over night. I axed the cap'n 'f I mout hunt ye up 'n' he said he didn't have no 'bjections pervidin' the colonel was willin'. I made bold to ax him 'cause I knowed he alius had a warm A CALL FROM SHORTY, 495 side fer ye, 'n' I didn't b'lieve he'd think any less on ye fer carryin' the flag o' the old 200th Injiannj^ up to the top o' that blazin' ridge. Jest 's soon 's I told him what I wanted he said right away, the colonel did : ' Certingly, my man, 'n' when ye git back' says he, 'come .straight ter my tent 'n' tell me how badly Corp'ral Klegg 's wounded. He's a brave fellow, is Klegg.' That's jest what he said, Si. Then he give me a pass 't he writ with his own fingers, so nobody wouldn't pick me up fer a straggler, slinkin' back ter the rear. I had a hard time findin' the right place, but I stuck to it 'n' here I am, yer most 'umble sarvint. Now how's yer arm ? That's the fust question I've cjot ter ax vou .'" Shorty's tongue was much like Si's in its tendency to run on, when once it got fairly started. By this time, f^ however. Si was get- ting well wound up, and was impatient for his turn. He will be readily pardoned for the undisguised pleas- ure with which he had listened to Shorty's recital of what the colonel said. "Ther' ain't very much the matter o' my arm. Shorty," he replied. "I tried 's hard 's ever I could ter have the doctor tie it up 'n' lemme go back ter the comp'ny, but he woukln't do it, nohow. He said I'd have ter lay up fer a while and he guessed he'd send me hum. P'r'aps ye c'n form some kind of an idee how glad I'd be ter go, 'n' yet I tell ye I'd ruther stay 'long with a'ou 'n' the rest o' Com- THE TWO 'PARDS.' 496 ''two hearts that beat as one." panj Q. I don't want the 200th Injianny ter do anything 'thout I'm thar ter help do it. Ef I do go, the boys ner the colonel won't think I'm playin' off, will they, Shorty? Ef I thought they'd feel that way I wouldn't budge an inch fer all the doctors this side o' Texas.'' "Course they won't, Si; ye needn't be noways 'fraid o' that. They've seen ye stan' up to the rack often 'nuff ter know better 'n that. I 'low ther' 's lots on 'em as wishes their gizzards was as full o' sand as yourn. Ye've arned a furlough, 'f anybody ever did, 'n' I'm glad ye're goin' ter git one. It'll be kind o' lonesome 'thout ye, Si, 'n' I'll be watchin' fer ye to come back. I shan't take no other pard under my blanket. That's your place, 'n I'll keep bachelor's hall t'll ye come." Si and Shorty were really so delighted to see each other that for the moment they gave no heed to their surround- ings. During their conversation they had walked a little way from the hospital ; but what their eyes saw and their ears heard soon brought them to speak of what was around them. "I'm 'fraid Company Q 'n'tlie rest o' therijimentgot cut up purty bad, didn't the^^ ?" asked Si. "Ye know," he con- tinued, "we didn't have no time ter look back 'n' see who er how many o' the boys went down ; 'n' ye know arter we'd got thar 'n' the rebs was runnin' every which way, the colonel jest made me come back ter the hospital. A good deal o' blood was runnin' out 'n' made my arm look w^uss 'n it reely was. I'm ever so glad you didn't git hit. Shorty." "Like enough it'll be me next time," replied his comrade. "I'd ruther keep a whole hide, but a feller can't expecl to be that lucky when the bullets is flyin' so thick. The wonder is 't anybody gits through 'thout bein' 's full o' holes 's a sieve." *'It does seem that way when ye stopfer think 'bout it," said Si, "but how 'd the rijiment come out?" shorty's good advice. 497 "The boys is thinned out a good deal. The line ain't more 'n half 's long 's 'twas when we started fer the ridge. I 'xpect there 's agoodmany lyin' up thar on the hill, fer we hain't had no chance ter bury 'em yet. I s'pose'f we don't have ter fight some more we'll do that in the mornin'. I don't know all of Company Q that 's killed, but it was a heart-breakin' roll-call 't w^e had tonight. Some o' the wounded 's here, ain't they?'' "Yes, plenty on 'em," said Si. "I know 3^011 ain't so chicken-hearted 's I am, but I can't keep the tears f'm comin' in my eyes when 1 see how the poor bo\'sis suiferin'. Some on 'em 11 be glad ter see ye, Shorty." They passed among the wounded men and spolce words of greeting to their comrades. Shorty had been cautioned that he must not be long absent and felt that he must re- turn to his regiment. It might be called upon to mo\e at any moment. Before leaving he asked the surgeon about his comrade's wound, telling him that the colonel was solicitous about him. **Si is a noble boy," said the surgeon. "Yes," replied Shorty, "he's my pard, 'n' they don't make no better soldiers 'n him." "We all know that," said the doctor. "You may tell the colonel that Si has a bad arm and we're going to fur- lough him. He'll come back in a few wrecks as good as ever. Do you know that ever since I dressed his wound and got his arm into a sling he has been working hard helping to take care of these poor fellows ?" "Jest like him!" said Shorty. The latter rejoined his comrade and told him that he must say good-by. "Now, Si," he said, "when ye start back ye mus'n't let *em load ye down as they did t'other time. Tell 'em to keep all the good things t'll ye gits hum ter stay. I don't s'pose ther's anybody up thar 't cares a pinch o' snuff 'bout 498 "TOM." me, but 'f ye sh'd happen to hear 'em axin, ye c'n tell 'em I'm a stayer. Good-by !" " Good-by, Shorty ! Tell the boys that I'll give a good le- portof'em, 'n' fer 'em ter keep my place fer me, 'cause 'twon't be long t'll I'll want it." Shorty vanished in the darkness, and Si returned to his self-imj^osed work. There was one of his bojdiood companions, a member of Company Q, who lay desperately wounded. Abullet had en- tered his breast and passed entirely through his body. The surgeon had dressed his wound, but it was apparent that he had little expectation of being able to do more than afford temporary relief. When Si asked the doctor about his com- rade, he shook his head and told him that there was but one chance in a hundred that he would I've beyond a few- hours. "We'll do all we can for him, 3i,"said the surgeon, **but there isn't much hope. If j^ou can cheer him up it will do him more good than medicine.'' Si's heart went out in sympathy for his friend. He de- voted himself assiduously to doing all in his power to re- lieve his suffering. He almost forgot that one of his own arms was lying helpless in a sling. "Cheer up, Tom," he said, as he placed a canteen of fresh water to his lips. "Ther' ain't no use den^-in' 't ye've got a bad hurt, n' if my bein' sorry fer ye 'd do any good ye wouldn't be long gittin' out o' this. Ye must keep yer spirits up; that'll do more fer ye 'n anything else. Men gits well sometimes after the doctors has give 'em up, jest 'cause they says they will. The doctor told me ye had a chance, 'n' I want ter see ye make the most on it. It was mighty hot up on that ridge, but didn't we go fer 'em? I tell ye ther' ain't nobody needs ter be 'shamed 'cause he b'longs ter the 200th Injianny. Here, Tom. take a aip o' this." And Si gave him a spoonful or two c{ '*CHEER UP, comrade!" 49^> brandy which the surgeon had left with him for that pur- pose. "As I was sayin','' he went on, "ther' ain't none o' them rijiments any better 'n ourn, ef some on 'em has been goin* it longer 'n we have. Ye mind how them old soljers used ter poke all sorts o' fun at us when we fust come out? Mebbe ^^e've noticed lately 't they don't do it no more. I reck'n it's 'cause we've showed 'em 't we've got jest 's much grit 's they have. Ye behaved like a hero today, Tom, 'n' yer folks '11 be proud o' ye when they hears 'bout it. Now cheer up, 'n' ye'll beat the doctors yet, 'n' git home to tell 'em how bravely ye went up that hill." Si rattled on without expecting any reply or giving his comrade any opportunity to talk if he had wanted to. Tom lay with closed eyes, breathing heavily. Now and then a half-suppressed groan escaped his lips. At length he spoke, in feeble tones. Si bent over him to catch his words. "You're good to me. Si," he said. "I can't tell ye — how thankful I am to ye. It's the next thing to havin' — mother or — sister. Seems to me almost as if I — might have a show if they were here. I feel as though the touch — of their hands would ease this awful pain. It hurts more and more an' — I'm gittin' weaker all the time. I'm afeard, pard, I can't — hold out much longer." "I don't like ter hear ye say that, Tom, 'cause I b'lieve ye're goin' ter pull through. Ye'll feel better tomorrow." "Tomorrow — tomorrow," said Tom in a whisper, as if his thoughts sprang unbidden to his lips, "what — where will I be?" " Tom," said Si, "ye mustn't talk that way. I hope God 11 let 3^ou git well fer the sake o' yer mother. It 'd break her heart ef \'e shouldn't. But ye'd better let me do the talkin' fer both on us. You lie 's quiet 's ye kin 'n' mebbe that pain won't be quite so bad. I wish I c'd help ye b'ar it. You've got more 'n yer sheer." 500 THERE IS NO HOPE. At this moment one whose suffering had just ended was carried by to be laid in the fast lengthening line of the dead. Tom opened his eyes for an instant and caught a glimpse of the body and those who bore it away with solemn tread. His eyes closed again, and an involuntary shud- der passed over him. Si, who was holding one of his com- rade's hands in his, felt the tremor. He knew what had caused it. "Si,"' said Tom, in a low voice of unutterable sadness, **you saw 'em — go by just now — didn't 3'e?" Si did not reply. "They'll carry me out — like that — an' it can't be — very long. Perhaps they'll have to — take me next !" The surgeon stopped, while making his round, to see if aught could be done to stay the hand of death. He felt the feeble pulse, and laid his hand upon the clammy brow. Si looked at him inquiringly, but the doctor shook his head. There was no need of words. Si knew, as he had feared, that his friend would ere long be beyond the reach of pain. "Tom," he said gently, with a soft pressure upon the hand that lay within hi? own. The flickering firelight played upon the face of the dying soldier, who looked full upon the faithful watcher as he asked : "Did — the doctor say — I was — any better?" Si turned away his head, that his comrade might not see the tears that dimmed his eyes. "He didn't say nothin', Tom!" The wounded man summoned all his fast w^astlng strength to communicate to his companion the thoughts that had been running through his mind. "I knew it — would be so," he said. "I've felt it comin' ever since they — brought me down from that hill where — we fought so hard. I hoped it mightn't be that way —not 'cause I ain't willin' to — give up my — my life as so many FAREWELL MESSAGES. 501 others do but — for the sake of them that '11 feel bad VThen they hear I'm — dead. I'd rather have lived to go back to 'em. But it's — all right. It may as well be me — as any- body else. Most of the boys has got — mothers an' sisters. You'll get — home in a few days an' I'm glad of it. I'm glad 3^e didn't — git hit no harder 'n ye did." "It 'd make me happier 'n ye can think, Tom, ef you could only go 'long with me." "It 'd have to be in a — coffin, an' they don't have any coffins here. Let me talk for a few minutes, Si — while I've got strength, for there's one or two things — I'd like to say before I go. You can tell 'em whether I done my duty or not — how I was lookin' right into the muzzles of the rebel guns when that — ball struck me. You was right there, too. An' be sure an' tell em that — we drove the rebels off that ridge an' captured the cannon. I b'lieve it '11 comfort 'em some to know — I wasn't a coward. Here's my watch; I'd like ye to take that home an' — give it to father. 1 haven't got anything good enough to send to — mother; but here's some money left from last time we was paid off. Give that to her an' tell her — to buy a ring or something she can always keep. You'll remember all I tell ye — won't ye, Si ?" "Of course — I will, Tom — every word," said Si, in brO' ken tones, struggling with his emotions. "An' I'll tell 'em-" " Wait a minute. Si ; I ain't quite through yet. My time 's short. I can't get my breath — much longer. I want you to take this pocket-knife. It's all I've got to give ye. You deserve something better, but it '11 do to remember — yer old comrade by. And, Si, there's one thing more. This — locket I've alwa\'s wore. Perhaps ye've got one yerself, an' if ye have ye know what a blessin' this has been to me. I don't need to tell ye who gave it to me — the day we left home. You'll know as soon as ye see the pic- ture in it. I want you to give it back to — to her, Si, an' 502 IN THE D\Riv VALLEY. tell her, if ye think it's true, that she needn't be 'shamed of the boy 't carried it on the march and — into the battle, I see red stains on it. You needn't — rub 'em^off. Mebbe she'd rather have it that way, 'cause — it shows 't I was up in front. Tell her I was thinkin' about her at — the last minute, while I was bein' — mustered out. An' when ye git well an' come back to the regiment, Si, I want ye to— tell the boys of Company Q good-by for me. Perhaps some of em '11 be a bit sorry 'cause — I had to leave 'em — this way. Tell the capt'n — " The effort to talk had been too much. There was a spasm of pain, for the pang had .reached at last the very source of life. The weary eyelids closed and there was a labor- ed struggle for breath. Si pressed the nerve- less hand of his com- rade and felt the weak- ening pulse. The surgeon passed that way and Si beck- oned him. A glance told him that the end was very near. "Caij't you do some- thing for him, Doc- tor?" said Si, in a low voice, choked with smothered sobs. "I would do it most gladly if it were possible, but he is beyond human power." Once more, for an instant, the eyes opened, glowing with a wild, strange light. In the last moments the mind wan- dered. "Come on — boys — right up— the ridge -there's our flas; ^-we'll get — the gmisl'' DEATH OF POOR TOM. % MUSTERED OUT. 503 At the instant of dissolution there was a flash of con- sciousness, and the quivering lips parted. " Good-by — pard ! Good-by — Doctor !" Very still he lay, and a restful look fell upon the whiten- ing face. The surgeon's fingers touched the pulseless wrist. "Poor, brave Tom is discharged," he said, as he brushed a tear from his eye. "You cannot do anything more for him. Si." By the light of the gleaming fires they bore away the bod\^ and placed it beside those lying cold and motionless under the sheltering trees. Si walked sadly after — a solitary mourner. He tenderly folded the hands across the quiet breast, drew the blanket over the face of his dead friend and pressed it gently around the inanimate form, as if to guard him from the chilling dews while he slept. And still went up to heaven that agonizing chorus of moans and cries; still moved about, hither and thither, the ministers of relief, intent upon their work of mere}'' ; still one and then another was carried to the place appointed for the dead. Over all the firelight shed its sympathetic glow^ ; while above and beyond was the deep darkness of midnight, as if it would hide the awful scene of suffering and death. CHAPTER XXXVII. Si Gets a Furlough, and is Surprised Beyond Measure to Finb Himself Famous. IT was long after midnight when Corporal Klegg, ex- hausted with the labor and excitement of the day and night, wrapped a blanket around him and lay down upon the ground, in the hope of getting needed rest. It was but little that he slept, however. He had felt and seen and heard enough to keep his thoughts occupied a lifetime. The scenes he had witnessed were yet vivid before his eyes, his mind was busy recounting the incidents of battle and hospital, with occasional pictures of home and friends, and his nerves were yet strung to so high a pitch that even his fatigue was not sufficient to quiet them. His wounded arm was becoming more and more painful, and he was just beginning to realize that he was badly hurt. His resting- place was under a tree a short distance from the hospital, whither he had gone that his ears might not be pained by the cries and moans of the suffering hundreds. He tossed about uneasily, dozing fitfully, and now and then starting up, affrighted by the distorted visions that disturbed his unquiet slumber. He was glad when daylight came. The chirping of the birds in the trees seemed a mockery, as he thought of the pain and woe and death that were so near. He got up and w^ent to see how his comrades were faring. Several more of them had died, while others were apparently 504 WITH THE AMBULANCE TRAIN. 505 doing as well as their wounds would permit. For each of these Si had a pleasant greeting and words of sympathy and encouragement. Early in the day a long train of ambulances drew up at the field hospital, to convey to the rear such of the wounded as could be moved. They were to be distributed among the permanent hospitals, where they^ could receive better care than was possible in the field ; and the army at the front would be relieved of the incumbrance. As fast as the\^ were able to go large numbers of the wounded would be furloughed to their homes, where their recovery would be much more certain and rapid. The vehicles were soon loaded and started upon their journey. Si said he would take it afoot and let some one ride who was less able to walk than he. After a farewell word to those of his comrades who remained behind, he trudged off in rear of the train, with a few hardtack in his pocket to eat by the way, and a canteen of water at his side. The distance to be traveled was but a few miles. The surgeon of the 200th Indiana was one of those de- tailed to accompany the ambulances. As he rode slowly along he accosted Si : "I'm glad to see you doing so nicely, Corporal. I have something to tell 3'ou that I think may please j^ou. This morning I made application for immediate furloughs for half a dozen of the regiment, and yours was one of the names. The man I sent v/ill take the application right through brigade, division and corps headquarters to 'the general commanding the army ; and if the red tape doesn't get kinked anywhere I think you will get your furlough tonight. Ifit comes you can start home as soon as j-ou have a mind to." "I'm ever so much 'bleeged to ye. Doctor," said Si. "As I was tellin' ye last night, I'd a heap ruther stay by the rijiment 'f I c'd do any good, but it looks 's though I wouldn't be wuth nothin' ter handle a gun fer a while, 'n' >06 VISIONS OF HOME AND HAPPINESS. I s'pose I mout 's well git out o' the way. 'Tain't 'cause 1 doii't want ter go home, fer ther' never was anybody gladder to go 'n I'll be. D'ye think I c'n make a raise o some clothes when we git ter town. These old duds looks purty hard, 'n' I don't like ter go home lookin' like a scare- crow. I flung away my knapsack, so 's I c'd git 'long faster, when we was chargin' up that ridge yisterdy, 'n' I hain't got a stitch o' nothin' 'ceptin' what I'm wearin'. I'd like ter look sort o' scrumptious like." "We'll fix it so that you can draw a new suit, Si, and send you home in fine style. I'll just say to you that I haven't the least doubt that j^ou 11 get the furlough. I wrote that you were the man that planted the flag on the works. The colonel of the 200th will give it a good send- SI GETS HIS FURLOUGH. 507 off, and I'll miss my guess if the general doesn't set the clerk to making out the papers in a hurry.' Si had been thinking that he ought to write a letter to his mother and one to Annabel. They would know of the battle and be anxious to hear from him. Now that there was a prospect of a furlough he thought it would be a nice thing to surprise them all. Should he be so fortunate as to start at once, he would be likely to reach home as soon as a letter. So he made up his mind not to send any word that he w^as coming. Before the slowdy moving train of ambulances reached its destination a galloping horseman overtook the party. It was an orderly bearing the furloughs that had been asked for. "Here you are, Si," said the surgeon, handing him one of those documents that a soldier so often wished for but so rarely got. " You deserve to have a good time and I hope you will." "Thankee, Doctor, "said Si. He could not say more than that. For the first time he knew- that he was going home. Up to this moment it had been only a dim unreality. He had so fully identified himself with the 200th Indiana, and so completely given himself up to the discharge of his whole duty as a soldier, that he had been perfectly sin- cere in the expression of his preference to remain wnth the regiment. It had been deemed best that he should go, and now a flood of tender thoughts rushed upon him. There were symptoms that his emotions would get the mastery for the moment, and he dropped back a little till he should recover his composure. As he came to a full realization of the privilege he was to enjoy, a happiness filled his heart that he had not felt for many a month. When the town was reached and the \vounded had been temporarily cared for, the surgeon made the necessary ar- rangements to enable Si to "draw" some clothing, and 508 HE ^OULD NOT WAIT. the latter was soon arraA^ed in an entire ne^Y outfit, fr<^m sole to crown. "I don't suppose," said the doctor with a suggestive wink, "that 3'ou care to take 3^our old clothes home do you?' "Not much!" said Si. "If mother sh'd examine 'em with her specs on she'd go crazy. I'll jest burn 'em up. That's all they 's fit fer." Si learned, upon inquir}', that a train would leave that evening and he told the surgeon he believed he would start right off. "You had better get a good sleep and go in the morn- ing," said the doctor. " You need the rest and you'll have a hard time of it bumping around in those rough cars all night." "I won't mind that a bit." replied Si, "'s long 's I'm goin' to'rd God's country. It '11 give me that much more time to hum. It's a chance a feller don't have very often, 'n' I'm goin' ter git all ther' is in it." The surgeon admitted the force of this reasoning and made no further objection. Carefully dressing Si's wound, he gave him a liberal supply of such things as it was likely to need during the long journey. He told him that any- body w^ould help him whenever he \vanted to change the dressing of his arm. Then he replenished Si's haversack and bade him a warm good-by. The train was composed of empty freight cars that had come down loaded with supplies for the army. The only passengers were the usual detail of guards and a few furloughed men and officers who, like Corporal Klegg, were impatient to be off. The severely wounded who had come in the ambulances would rest till the following day and then be loaded in cars of the same kind and sent northward. Si and a dozen others, mostly wounded men, were as- signed to a car. and by assisting one another they man- THE NEWSPAPER MAN. 509 aged, after much effort, to clamber in. The car had been ased, at no remote period, for the transportation of cattle, and little had been done in the way of disinfection. An over-fastidious person might have been disposed to grum- ble at such unsavory accommodations; but Si Klegg, with a furlough in his blouse pocket and his face turned home- ward, was as happy while breathing the noxious odors of that cattle-car as if his nostrils were being tickled by the "spicy breezes " that " Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle." Just before the train started, a man — whose bearing justified the be- lief that he already had a title, in fee simple, to a good part of the earth, and wanted the rest — jumped into the car and bustled around among the soldiers. With note- book and pencil in hand, he took down the name and regiment of each, and the nature of his wound. "What's your name, young fellow ?" he said, with a patronizing air. " My name's Si Klegg, SJj- " THE WAR CORRESPONDENT. "What ! Corporal Si Klegg, of the 200th Indiana? " "Bet yer life I'm him. " "What ! The man that so grandly bore aloft, amidst the awful carnage, the star-bespangled emblem of liberty and equal rights and planted it on the ramparts of treason, 510 THE DISPATCHES TELL THE STORY, while the roar and smoke of battle filled the circumam- bient air ? "I'd like ter have ye say that over ag'in, Mister, " said Si. "I can't understand yer hifalutin' talk. I'm Si Klegg, of the 200th Injianny, bein' as how ye wants ter know so bad." "Excuse my big words. I haven't got fairly cooled oiF from the excitement of yesterday, and for the moment I thought I was writing dispatches. I'm glad to see you Corporal. I've heard all about you, but they told me you were dead. " Then he said in an undertone as if thinking aloud: "Bj^ Jove! I'll scoop the boj^s on this. It'll make a splendid item ! " "Make a what, did ye say? " asked Si, wondering what it all meant. But he was gone. Si did not know that he was a news- paper man. The journey was tedious, like all southern railroading in wsiv times, but Si was happy in knowing that every revolution of the clattering wheels brought him nearer to "Injianny" which to him w^as but another name for Paradise. Everywhere he found kind and ready hands to bind up his wound and minister to his wants. Si was amazed to find that through the instrumentality of the telegraph and the newspapers his fame was already being spread abroad. He was wholly unconscious of having done anything that was especially meritorious, but his gallant conduct at the storming of the ridge, in bearing the colors of the 200th Indiana to the crest, had been highly commended by the officers, and had reached the ears of the reliable war correspondents of the excellent family journals. His deeds were described in the tele- graphic dispatches, so that at the very time he was tramp- ing along behind the ambulances, with his arm in a sling, thousands of people at the north were reading about what lie did, besides a good deal that he didn't do; for the AND si's fame is SPREAD ABROAD. 511 average war correspondent was gifted with a fervid imag- ination that never failed to supply all the details when authentic information was meager. It was rumored that Corporal Klegghad been wounded, but in the chaos at the front no one could tell how severely, or whether he was even alive or not. So the newspaper men reported him in all the various stages of mutilation and dismemberment. Some of them added to the pathos of their narratives by setting forth that he was killed just after he had planted the flag on the summit. At the first city that was reached, after the all-night ride, the newsboys swarmed around the train crying : '"Ere's yer mornin' papers! Latest news from the big battle! All 'bout Corp'ral Si Klegg!" * ' Wha-a-a-t !" exclaimed Si, unconsciously, as he heard the clamor of the oft-repeated cry. He rubbed his eyes to be certain that he was awake, and pulled his ears to assure himself that they were still there and performing their legitimate functions. Then turning to one of his fellow- passengers he said : "Who d'yes'pose all this 'ere fuss 's 'bout ? I hain't never heerd o'no other Corporil Si Klegg'ceptin'me, but Ihain't done nothin' ter have the papers blowin' me up ! I reck'n it's some other feller, but I hope he hain't done nothin' ter make me 'shamed o' the name! I'm goin' ter find out. Here, you young rascal, gimme a paper!" and Si handed the boy a 10-cent scrip in payment. "I guess you'll find the\^'ve got you into the papers, sure enough!" said the comrade to whom Si had addressed his somewhat explosive remarks. All the chance occupants of the car were entire strangers to Si when he boarded the train the night before. No two of them belonged to the same regiment. But there w^as not one whose acquaintance he had not made before midnight. Si found in the paper a long account of the battle and a 512 WORDS FAILED HIM. liberal paragraph devoted to "Corporal Si Klegg, of the 200th Indiana." "Wall, I swow," he exclaimed, lookingtip from the paper, "'f that don't beat the Jews. I'll make an affidavy that ther' ain't no other Si Klegg in the 200th InjiannA'." And then he thought : "What 'd mother, 'n' sister Marier, 'n' Annabel sa}^ 'f they sh'd see that !" The closing lines of the paragraph were as follows : Our readers will be pleased to learn that the report that Corporal Josiah Kle^g of the 200th Indiana was killed, published inourissueof yesterda3% proves to have been a mistake. The gallant young soldier was severely wounded, but when seen last night b^' our able and discriminating corres- pondent he was as frisky as a spring lamb. Our special telegraphic dis- patches convey the gratifj'ing intelligence that Corporal Klegg was yester- day granted a furlough by the general commanding the army, and left last night by rail for his home in Indiana. He will arrive in our city this morning. All our readers will join us in the hope that he may "live long and prosper." It was not often that Si was unable to find some kind of language to express his feelings when unexpected things happened, but this was one of those exigencies when his usual volubility of tongue failed him. He stared blankly around, without uttering a w^ord, to the great enjoyment of his companions. He finally managed to say that he was completely "kerflummuxed." It is no doubt true that the dictionary, from A to Z, could not afford a word more suitable than this to express his mental condition at that moment. Then he gave a sudden start as athought flashed through his mind. What if the papers in the north should publish the report that he was killed, and they should see it ! As soon as it became known that a train with wounded had arrived from the front, there came a delegation of men and women from the Sanitary Commission, bringing gal- lons of hot coffee and baskets of sand wnches and boiled eggs and all manner of delicacies. Some of the ladies began at once to inquire for Corporal Klegg, whose name had ap- LET ME KISS HIM FOR HIS MOTHER! P' 513 peared so conspicuously in the head-lines of the morning papers. "Here he is," exclaimed Si's traveling companions. In vain he protested and shrank into a dark corner of the car as half a dozen ladies demanded that he come forth. His comrades at length surrounded him and forced him to the door, \Yhere he \vas greeted with boisterous enthusiasm. "Just look at him ; he's only a boy !" "I'd like to be his mother! Wouldn't I be proud of him?" SI FINDS HIMSELF FAMOUS. "I do hope his folks didn't hear that awful story that he was dead!'' Si thought it was about as bad as being under the fire of the rebels. He blushed to the roots of his hair when a matronly dame manifested a desire to "kiss him for his mother." It had been a long time since any female, old or young, had kissed him, either "for his mother" or on her own account. Pleasant as \vould be the touch of the soft lips of woman, he gently but firmly declined the vicarious Dl-i SI "interviewed" by a RfiPORTxiR. salute. He said he hoped to be at home in a day or two, and he had reason to believe his mother would be glad to do it for herself. It was indeed a feast that Si and his comrades enjoyed. The daintiest morsels were sj)read before them with a pro- fusion that was bewildering to soldiers who had been at the front for a year, living on army rations. Not less startling to the ladies must have been the almost unlimited stowage capacity which the men exhibited. The visitors brought with them various appliouces for the relief of injured limbs. There were crutches for the lame, and ingenious devices to support wounded arms. One of the latter was given to Si, and a most comfortable and convenient thing it was — a sort of trough in which to lay the arm, suspended by straps that went around the neck. These contrivances were freely bestowed upon all to the nature of whose wounds they were suited. The all-pervading newspaper reporter was there, armed with pencil and note-book, to "interview" Si and "write him up." Si was well-nigh dazed at finding himself the object of so much attention. He could not understand why so great a "fuss, ' as he called it, was made over him. At first he did not take kindly to the newspaper man. The latter, however, by that persistence so characteristic of the profession, at last succeeded in getting Si's tongue unloosed, and he rattled off, in his quaint, ingenuous way, the story of how the flag of the 200th Indiana came to be the first that floated amidst the flame and smoke on the crest of the ridge. He told it in simple words, ^vithout the least attempt at self-glorification. He was proud of his regiment and of himself, not as an individual, but as one of its members. So far as he w^as concerned he had done nothing more than what he enlisted to do, and what might be expected of him. He did not even ask the re porter to send him a marked cojDy of the paper. CHAPTER XXXVIII. Bad News Reaches the Klegg Family, but it Proves to be Untkdb. FARMER KLEGG was husking com when a neighbor, who also had a son in Company Q, came galloping down the road leading from the village. Tying his horse to the fence he climbed over, approached with rapid steps, and accosted him. The earnest tones with which he spoke betokened the gravity of the message he brought. " Neighbor Klegg, " he said, "I had to goto town this mornin' to git the old mare shod, an' I heerd they had another great battle yesterday. I tried to find out suthiu definite for I couldn't help feelin' anxious 'bout my Tom. All anybody' knew was that our men druv the rebils, capturin' a hull lot o' their cannons an' I don't know how many thousan' pris'ners. What consarns you an* me most is that the 200th Indiana was in the thickest on 't and was cut up terrible. I couldn't git no names yet tellin' who 's killed an' who ain't, but I thought you an* some o' the rest o' the people hereabout would like to know there had been a fight that our boys was in, an' so I jumped on the hoss an' come on a dead run." The first glance into the face of his friend had told Farmer Klegg the serious character of the hasty visit. Dropping a half-husked ear he stood listening intently to the start- ling words. "I must go an' tell mother!" he said gently, and his lips quivered as he spoke. "Then I'll go to town an' see if I 515 516 STARTLING NEWS. can hear any of the particklers. They said the 200th was badly cut up, did they?" he continued, as they walked toward the road. " That's what they told me,'' replied his companion. "If that's true a good many of Company must ha' got hurt, 'cause I don't believe any on 'em was furder in front than our boys. Ye know, neighbor, it's most always the brave ones that gets hit 'Tain't them as is skulkin' back in the rear. If a man is killed | or wounded, it stands ^ to reason that he was somewheres 'round where he ought to be. It 'd be purty hard to see my boy's name in one o' the long lists the newspapers print after every big battle, but even that wouldn't be ''^^ so hard as to have it |^ said that Si wa'n'tno '^^^k^^^ good. If I only know W-'i^^^i— ^^^^^ that he done his duty '^¥^S like a brave soldier I'll >'^ V^ try and-" %K^Si The patriotic old man left the sentence unfin- ished. Something came into his throat that choked his utterance. He drew his rough sleeve across his brown face. "I agree with ye, Mr. Klegg," said the other. "That's jest the way I feel about Tom. I'd rather know he was dead than to hear he'd showed the white feather. But from all accounts we've had I don't think either on 'em is a boy to be 'shamed of" NEWS FOR FARMER KLEGG. FATHER AND MOTHER. 517 At the road thcv shook hands and parted, with dimmed eyes, and voices tremulous with anxiety and foreboding for the absent ones. One turned his steps toward the house and the other remounted his horse and rode away. Farmer Klegg's wife had seen the neighbor ride past at furious pace. She had watched him as he alighted from his horse and joined her husband in the field. She knew, with the keen instinct of a mother, that something unusual had transpired, and that it concerned her bo}'. She stood in the open door and did not take her eyes from them dur- ingthe brief interview. The instant the\' separated she drew her apron over her head and walked rapidly with beating heart to meet her husband. His head was bowed and he was not conscious of her approach until she was near him. "Father," she said — and words and tears came together — ' ' is it bad news ? Si is not — dead ? ' ' He opened his strong arms and clasped them about his wife as she fell, weeping, upon his breast. "There — there— mother ! Don't!" he said, with the utmost tenderness, and with a mighty effort to control his own emotions, as he laid his hand softly upon her fore- head and moistened cheek. "There's sad news for a good many people; I pray the good Father above that it may not prove so to us, dear. The army that our boy is in has had another battle and the report is that the 200th Indiana was in the thickest of it and was badly cut up." "And — tell me quick," she sobbed — and her breath came fast as she looked into his face with her tearful e^^es — "what did— he say — about our Si? " "Not a word, mother. I tell you trul^^" He cast upon her a look that is only born of the affection of half a life- time. "I have heard nothing be3^ond what I have told you. We may hope that all is well with him, and now we will be thankful for that privilege. Cheer up, wife; it'll all come out right." 518 IN QUEST OF TIDINGS. The fact that nothing was known as to how Si had fared in the battle brought to the mother a sense of rehef "I will drive to town," said Mr. Klegg, "and see if I can hear anything more. Be brave and patient till I come back." "I wall go with you," she answ^ered, quietly, "I could not endure it to wait for you. And let us go at once." "Perhaps it may not turn out to be so bad," he said, as they walked to the house. "The first reports are alw^ays the worst." "You know, "said his wife, "there isn't hardly a minute, day nor night, w^hen I ain't thinkin' or dreamin' of Si. I've never thought it possible that anything could happen to him. These are times when people have to make sacri- fices, but it seems as if for us to give up our only son, and he so good a boy as Si, is too much for the country to ask of us." "Now, mother, get your things on," he said, as they reached the house. "I'll have the buggy ready in a few minutes." Little was said during the drive to the village. The hearts of both were throbbing with anxiety for tidings from the absent one. The village was thronged with people on like errands. The news of the battle had spread, as if borne upon the wings of the morning, through the region round about, and the friends of Company Q gathered from all directions. The men at the front knew^ little of the unutterable long- ings, the prayers, the fears, the yearning hopes of those at home who loved them. Farmer Klegg thought it best to leave his wife at the house of a friend, while he hastened to the postoffice and railway station in quest of news. "Hurry," she said, "and come back to me as soon as you can,fov you knowhow much I want to hear from Si." "You had no need to tell me that," he replied, with an THE GREED FOR NEWSPAPERS. 519 affectionate look into her face. "As soon as 1 can learn anything I will come to a'Ou." A short time before he arrived the morning papers from a neighboring city had reached the village. They were seized with the utmost avidity, and the long columns that told of the great victory were read with an intensity of interest that no language can portray. It was too soon for the heart-breaking lists of the dead and the mangled. For these the agon^^ of suspense — scarceh- less hard to bear than the pang of finding the name of a loved one among those of the heroic slain — must continue another da,}^ perhaps many daj-s. Now the moans of the wounded and the sound of pick and shovel in the burial trenches are drowned in the shouts of triumph. When the echoes of the wild huzzas have died away, then will come to aching hearts that cannot be comforted, a realization of how great a price w^as paid for the victory. Though the first hastily prepared report of the battle is barren of the details so eagerly sought, there is yet enough to absorb the thoughts and stir to their profoundest depths the hearts of these people. Such gallantry as that displaj'cd by the 200th Indiana could not pass unno- ticed, even in the furious hurly-burly of the fight. As they read how it led the charge up to the very mouths of the belching guns, and how its ranks were thinned as it grandly breasted the fierce and deadh^ blast from musket and cannon, they know that Company Q was there and many of its brave men must have fallen. Instinctively they look into one another's faces as if to ask. Is it my son? /?2j father? i22j' brother ? /nj^husband? Oh that one might be found who can answer, and put an end to these awful forebodings ! It were better to know the worst. Then a wave of patriotic rejoicing sweeps over that gathering, and before it even the fear and dread and love give way for the moment. Men and women, old and young, with tearful eyes, swing their hats, w^ave their 520 SAD NEWS FOR FARMER KLEGG. kerchiefs, and unite their tremulous voices in a shout for those who so nobly obeyed the call of duty. They are proud of their sons and brothers, even though their man- gled bodies lie stark and stiffened on the field their valor helped to win. But there was one thing in the newspaper report that pierced like an arrow the hearts of that compan3^ Their pulses quickened as they read how Corporal Klegg of Company had borne the flag of the 200th Indiana up the rugged hill and planted it upon the flaming crest, and then — that he was killed. For more than two years they had been reading of battles with their awful scenes of slaughter. They were becoming familiar with death, but this brought it near to them. Strong men shuddered and women wept as they heard the sorrowful tidings. On every hand were heard the most sincere expressions of grief for "Poor Si."' Farmer Klegg, inhis eager quest for news, \valked rapidly toward the railway station. "There comes Si's father!" said one. "Poor man, what a blow it will be to him !" "True enough," said another, "and tomorrovsr the blow may fall on you and me." A moment later Mr. Klegg, flushed with anxiety, joined the throng. He saw at a glance the unwonted excitement, the sad, earnest faces, the crumpled newspapers ; he heard the hum of many voices, talking in hushed tones. He kne^v that information of some kind had been received. He needed not to ask what it was about. There was but one subject, and that filled all minds and hearts. As he glanced quickly into the faces of his friends and neighbors he saw looks of pity, and seemed as if by intuition to divine their meaning. "What news from — the battle?" he asked, hesitatingly, and yet with breathless longing. A BLOW THAT FELL HEAVILY. 521 "It was a splendid victory. The 200th Indiana covered itself with glor}-. We can all be proud of Companv 0." "Yes," he answered, nervously, "I wasn't afraid of their flinchin', but did you hear anything about my — about any of the boys ?" A sad silence fell like a pall over the crowd. Hearts that were racked with alternate hopes and fears for their own dear ones, ached for him, yet none could break to him the tidings. "The paper saysSi was — badly hurt !" said one, timidly. "Let me see it! Give me the paper!" he exclaimed, as with trembling hands he drew his glasses from his pocket and put them on. A paper was handed him. He looked for an instant at the startling head lines, and then his e3^e wandered up and down the long columns. Tears stole down the cheeks of those around as they watched him. "Will some one show me where it tells about my boy?" he asked, struggling to suppress his emotions. A finger was laid upon the paragraph. With what pas- sionate eagerness he scanned it. When he reached the fateful words that told him his brave boy was among the slain the paper dropped from his tremulous grasp, the color left his face, and with his hand pressed to his fore- head and his eyes closed, he stood for a moment like a statue, the embodiment of paternal grief In such a presence the people stood in silent compassion. "Dead ? Si dead?" he said at length, in a choking voice, as if thinking aloud, and unconscious of his surroundings. "God help 3^our poor mother! How can I tell her! And yet I must go to her at once !" Then there came to him thoughts of the heroic manliness of his son, and in the noble spirit of patriotic sacrifice he said in tender tones : "But Si did his duty bravely and died like a true soldier! Better dead — a hero, than living— a coward ! Si was a 522 HEROISM AT HOME. good and dutiful boj. It is very hard to think of him — so ! Oh, if I could only believe it is not true ! I would gladly give my own life if it could bring Si back to his mother.'" Then he added, as if ashamed of his weakness, even under such a crushing burden of sorrow : " May God give me strength to show^ myself worthy of such a son. Ten thousand fathers, whose sons were as dear to them as was mine to me, have been called to lay them upon the altar; why should not I? " An involuntary cheer went up in honor of the old farmer's brave spirit. The people crow^ded around, him with streaming eyes and in turn grasped his hand and spoke words of sympath3^ He heard them, but the kindly utter- ances seemed almost meaningless. "Neighbors and friends," he said, "I thank you all. This nation is going to be saved, and if it's necessary I'm ready to shoulder a gun and take Si's place. I haven't felt the war before. My share of the burden has been laid on me at last, and I'm willing to bear it. The war is going to end right as sure as there's a God in heaven, and when it's over the country will be all the dearer to us for the sacri- fices we have made to save it." The first great shock was over. It was well for Farmer Klegg that he had recovered himself before facing the or- deal of communicating the intelligence to his wnfe. "Si's mother is waiting for me, "he said. " May the good Lord give her the same strength that he has given me." His steps were unconsciously slow as he w^alked back to the house where he had left her half an hour before, and where he knew she w^as awaiting his coming with all the yearning solicitude that a mother's heart can know. He prayed for help, feeling his need of every assistance, human and divine, to meet the sorest trial of his life. Every moment since he left her she had been sitting with her face at the window-pane, gazing wistfully down the street whence he had gone. Minutes seemed hours as she THE STRICKEN MOTHER. 523 watched for his return. When he came in sight her heart gave a great bound. Springing to her feet she flew to meet him at the gate. As he approached, with his eyes fixed upon the ground, a subtle instinct told him she was there. He felt her pres- ence ; and her appealing look, though he saw it not, thrilled his inmost soul, but he could not lift his eyes to hers. "Husband?" He looked up. She read it in his face as plainh' as if the printed words had been stamped upon his moist cheek and quivering lip. With a quick gasp and a convulsive cry she flung herself upon his breast. She would have fallen but for his enfolding embrace. "I will help you to bear it, mother," he said tenderly. "'Let us go into the house." Lifting the fainting woman in his strong arms he bore her across the threshold. Laying her upon a sofa he kissed her white lips and took her hand between his ov.-n. Large hands were his, browned and calloused bv two score years of toil, but to her there was no touch on earth so soft as their tender, loving pressure. Kind-hearted friends gathered around and proffered their services, but he waved them aside. "Leave her to me — and God," he said. He softly smoothed her hair w4th his hand, and spoke to her in endearing words. A flood of tears came, and brought relief to the overburdened heart. "Mother," he said, when calmness came, after the par- ox3\sm had subsided, "Si carried the flag of the regiment up the ridge ahead of all the others, right into the blaze of the rebel guns. I read it in the paper. It was just after he got to the top and victory was close by that he was — that he fell. There never was a braver, nobler boy, nor one who did his dut\Mjetter. It will be a great comfort lo US- mother, to think of this, and to remember what a good 524 TWO MORE BLEEDING HEARTS. son he has always been to us. It isn't ever^^body that has such boys to give when the country needs them." Strength of body and mind came slowly but surely back to the stricken mother, and with it came that matchless spirit of devotion that nerved the women of the whole country, north and south, during those four years of fire and blood. "My dear husband," she said quietl}^, "it is God's will, and I submit. But I cannot talk of it now. We will go home if 3^ou are ready." Almost in silence, with brave though bursting hearts, they rode to the home that would be so desolate now. The light of his presence would never dispel the darkness. During the few hours of their absence the daughter had done little but strain her eyes along the road by which they would return. Nor was she alone. Is it any wonder that Annabel, learning that the farmer and his wife had gone to the village, should put on her bonnet and go over to see if Maria had any news from him ; and then to wait and watch with her ? There were two more bleeding hearts when Farmer Klegg and his wife came. There were bitter tears and convulsive sobs as the dreadful words, like keenh^-barbed shafts, did their cruel work. The next morning Mr. Klegg drove again to the village. All his farm work was forgotten except such periodical duties as necessity required. He was waiting at the rail- way station long before the train was due that Avould bring the daily papers with later accounts of the battle. Others, too, were there, by scores, anxious for tidings from "the front." On all sides were heard words of s^^mpathy for Farmer Klegg, in the great sorrow that had befallen him. When the train dashed up a hundred eager hands were outstretched for the newspapers. In a moment Mr. Klegg had secured one, and withdrawing a little \\ ay from the "ALIVE AGAIN. 525 crush he opened it. Instantly his eye caught, among the flaming head-lines : "brave corporal klegg not killed." Si's preeminent gallantry, coupled with the fact that the 200th Indiana was from that part of the state, had made him a conspicuous object of interest. Farmer Kleggf's heart seemed almost to burst from his body as he read it again, to assure himself that he was not mistaken The sudden re- vulsion of feel- ing, the over- whelming jO}", sw^ept entirely away for the moment the staid dignity of his usual mien. Swinging his hat in one hand and his news- paper in the other he leaped into the air with a great shout. Then he looked again at the blessed words, and as the happy tears trickled dowm his cheeks he rever- ently turned his eyes upward and, with an intensity of pathos, breathed the words : "Father in Heaven, I thank Thee!" 'Jnder other circumstances those who stood by would he ve thought him bereft of reason; but other quick eyes iiad read the tidings, and none wondered at the overflow nf his feelings. "my boy is not dead!" {526 THE FURIOUS HOMEWARD RIDE. He gave no heed to those who gathered about him. He waited not to read the dispatches. His only thought was of mother and sister, who were sitting in the shadow of death, while grief was gnawing at their heart-strings. Dashing through the crowd he went upon a run, nor stopped until he reached his buggy. "What is it. Neighbor Klegg?" asked a friend whom he passed in the street. ''AIv boy is not dead I''^ he answered without pausing in his flight. The strap by which the horse was tied had perversely drawn itself into a hard knot. Without waiting to untie it he quickly drew out his knife, cut the strap, leaped into the seat, seized the reins, and began to apply the whip to the horse's back and sides. "Now, git up, Doll!" he shouted. "Travel for your life! Ye never carried such news before. G'lang, there, why don't ye!" The mare was at a gallop, but it seemed to him a snail's pace, in his impetuous haste. Again and again the lash descended upon the astonished beast. Goaded to despera- tion, the faithful animal seemed at length to realize that it was an extraordinary emergency and fairly flew along the road. The fast-clattering hoofs startled the people in their houses, and they looked with wondering eyes uponathing so strange for Farmer Klegg. Other vehicles, as he ap- proached at furious pace, drew off the road as if to escape from a runaway. But he leaned forward and unconsciously plied his whip, urging his steed to still greater efforts. Men who recognized him tried to speak to him as he went whirling by. "Don't stop me !" he exclaimed. " My boy is alive !" The farmer's wife and daughter had mechanicalh^ per- formed such simple household duties as could not be left undone. Then, with pale faces and tearful eyes, they watched for his return. THREE HAPPY HEARTS. 527 •'There he comes, mother; and see how he drives! Oh, can It be possible that — " Both run out to the gate. Maria does not finish the sentence she began ; she dares not suggest a hope only to see it dashed to pieces, and themselves plunged into even a lower depth of grief. Rapidly he draws near. His hat has fallen off and his thin, gray hair is streaming in disorder about his head. "Mother!" he shouts, as he draws rein upon the pant- ing horse, "our boy - ri/"-\^ ./ni^./V'^:!/* is not dead ! He " -^.;- «tilMfe^,rr^i...^.^„„ ^1 ■ — is — not — dead ! ' ' And the tears start afresh as he ex- claims, " Praise God from w^hom all blessings flow!" He springs from the buggy and in an instant father, mother, daughter, are clasped in one another's arms, mingling their glad tears for him that "was dead and is alive again." "Come into the house, dears, "said Farmer Klegg. "I've got a newspaper that tells about it. I didn't stop to read it. I saw it in big letters that Si wasn't killed and that was enough for me to know till I could come home and tell you. If I've killed old Doll, she couldn't die in a better cause." He tried to read, but his misty eyes refused to perform their office. "Read it, daughter!" he said, handing her the paper, FARMER KLEGG'S DRIVE. o28 SI SURPRISES TH£ VILLAGERS, "there's something wrong with my specs, and I can't see through 'em I' And while their hearts throbbed, and the light of their smiles seemed to make rainbows in their tears, Maria read how Si had been wounded as he bore the flag into the flame and smoke of the enemy's guns. How badly he was hurt the rejDort did not sa}'-, and there were tender long- ings to know all; but their son and brother was not dead, and this knowledge came to them like a sweet benediction from heaven. " God will not let him die !" said the farmer's wife. "Amen!" exclaimed Farmer Klegg. A few minutes later Maria put on her bonnet, slipped noiselessly out of the house and went with hurrying feet to tell Annabel the glad news. They wept together in the fullness of their joy. CHAPTER XXXIX. Corporal Klegg Reaches Home and there is Happiness all Around. liTTELLO, Si!" X X This cordial and hearty greeting fell upon Cor- poral Klegg's ears as he alighted from the train two days later. His face was recognized by a dozen in the crowd, the instant it emerged from the door of the car, and a chorus of voices uttering these words of welcome ^vas the introductory overture to the tumultuous reception that awaited him. It was purely spontaneous, for not even Farmer Klegg had any intimation of his coming. The daily throng of people in quest of news from the battle was unabated. Many of them were the same per- AND IS WARMLY WELCOMED. 529 sons, who had come day after day in the hoj^e of hearing from those who were near and dear. Business and all the ordinary concerns of life \vere almost forgotten in the one engrossing theme of thought and conversation. As Si descended the steps of the car, with one arm in a sling, he glanced hastily around ujion the eager faces, with a glad smile and a cheery ' ' Hello ! " "Three cheers for Si Klegg!" shouted an enthusiastic admirer of the gallant young soldier, and they were given with royal good will. He w^as instantly sur- rounded by scores of people, jostling and crowding one another in their desire to take him by the hand and ply him v^ath questions 'TU have ter ax jc^ ter be a leetle keerful," he said, as they throng ed about him, "fer that arm 's consid'ably dam- idged 'n' it's sorer 'n' any bile ye ever seed." This word of caution had the desired effect, "hello, si; and care was taken that he should have plent}^ of "sea room " on that side. Si was furiously bombarded with words of commenda- tion and inquiries from ever^^one. The whole community was proud of him. The people said that if they had known he was coming they would have turned out the brass band that he might be received in a fitting manner. A dozen at the same time were asking eager questions con- 53J FARMER KLEGG'S HAPPINESS. cerning other members of Company Q, for as yet but few details of the casualties had reached the village. It would have kept his tongue busy for hours to answer all the questions that were put to him in five minutes. For a time it was impossible for Si to make his way through the crowd ; but he looked wistfully about, if per- chance he might see the face of his father or mother or sister Maria. He even thought it barely possible that Annabel might happen to be there. One of his arms was still in serviceable condition, and he was sure it would be able to do extra duty, to make u]i for the other, that must be but an idle witness of the proceedings. His heart and head were so full of these things, and of home and the dear ones there, that he heard little of the confused babble of the crowd around him. An old man came up in breathless haste and began to push his way through the throng. " Let me see Si !" he exclaimed, while tears of joy trickled down his cheeks. All recognized his right, and the crowd gave way on either side that he might pass. ''Oh, my boy!" "Father!" Farmer Klegg clasped his arms about the neck of his son and long held him in a joyful embrace. The eyes of the bystanders moistened- in glad s^^mpathy. Many who looked upon the happy meeting longed, \vith an unspeak- able yearning, to fold their sons and brothers to their hearts. "Let us go home," said Mr. Klegg, leading the way. " There's a couple o'w^omen there as 'd e'ena'most go crazy 'f they knowed ye'd come. I've got the old mar' here an' it won't take long to drive out. She's got used to goin' back and forrard 'tween here an' the farm, these last few days. I reck'n I don't need to tell ye why I've been comin' to town every mornin', as fast as Doll's feet could fly !" "I don't know, 'nless ye was bringin' yer farm truck to FATHER AND SON. 531 market," replied Si, as they walked rapidly away, "but I can't see what ye druv so fast fer ; ye alius told me to be easy with the bosses. Was ye hurryin' 'cause ye was afeared prices 'd drap?" "My dear boy, can't you think how we felt when we. got news of the battle, and .knew Company Q was in it. An' it was a good deal worse 'n that. Si, for we heard you was killed. I read it myself in the newspaper. I ain't goin' to tell ye what a cruel blow it was to j^er mother an' sister. Ye can git some kind of an idee if yell obsarve how glad they are to see ye. It was like a camp-meetin' at our ho'use the next day when I got back from town with the news that ye wasn't dead. An' every day since I hain't done much else besides tryin' to find out how bad ye w^as hurt an' where ye was. I told mother this mornin' that I'd 'bout made up my mind to take the keers an' go down there an' see 'f I couldn't hunt ye up an' bring ye home. An' here ye are, bless yer heart, lookin' jest like ye always did, 'cept that ye're a little tanned an' weather- beaten, which ain't noways strange considerin' the way ye've been livin'. An' how's yer poor arm? an' won't ye be glad to have mother dress it for ye? I read in the paper how ye behaved yerself in the fight ; an' mother an' me was proud that you was our boy, even when we thought ye was dead." From the overflowing heart of the farmer came a rush of happy thoughts, which almost insensibh^ bubbled forth in words. He talked, scarcely conscious of what he was saying, only knowing that he was once more speaking, face to face, with his boy. "I didn't think ye was worryin' so 'bout me,'' said Si. ""I might ha' telegrafted ye a couple o' days ago 't I was all right 'n' was comin' home, but I thought it'd be kind o' nice to s'prise ye like. The fust noosepaper I seen arter I started, had a long lingo 'bout Si Klegg, 'n' I thought it must be there was some other feller 'd got mj name, 632 "oh, mother, it's si!" but everj^bod}' said it was me. I couldn't see what chey wanted to put sich a piece in the paper fer. Ef I'd had my way I wouldn't ha' come home fer this, but the doctor told me I had ter. Ye mus'n't think 'twas cause I didn't •keer ter see ye, but I didn't want ter go back on the old rijiment. I didn't know 'twould feel so good ter git hum. Cant we git over the ground a leetle faster?" They were now well on their way. Si looked at once familiar objects with as much interest as if his absence had been ten times as long. Indeed, he had lived so much since he went to the war, that it seemed like half a score of years instead of one. So completely had the new life absorbed his verj- being that memory gave him only faint glimpses of his boyhood days, though they were but such a little while ago. Now the old scenes were before him, and for the time he was not a soldier, but again the simple- hearted farmer's boy. At home wife and daughter were watching for Farmer Klegg's return, as thej' had done every day since the news of the battle. "Father is coming!" said Maria, whose keen eye recog- nized him while he was yet a great way off. "There's somebody riding with him, dressed in soldier clothes. Ob, mother, Ws Si!" With beating hearts and quickening pulses they flew to the door and out through the gate. With rapid steps they hurried down the road to meet them. They clapped their hands and waved they kerchiefs, while Si swung his hat and shouted, and Farmer Klegg stung the mare's foaming flanks with his whip. A moment later Si clambered out of the buggy, as fast as his wounded arm would permit, and was received into the welcoming embrace of mother and sister. "My dear, brave boy!" said his mother, folding him to her bosom, and smiling through her tears. "My life has never known a greater happiness than this. I believe I IX LOVING EMBRACE. roo )v>0 kno r something of how that poor widow felt when Christ raised her son from the dead. Did you know he was com- ing, father? Wh}- didn't you tell me?" "Mother," replied Air. Klegg, "do you suppose I would have kept back such a joy from you if I had known it? I was just as much surprised as ^-ou was. I hadn't the faintest idee he was comin' till they told me in town, as 1 was hurryin' to the depot, that Si had jest got off the train. An' didn't I make the crowd get out of the way an' let me through till I had him in these arms?" " It was this way, mother," said Si, "I didn't know" myself 't I was comin' t'll jest 'fore I started. While the doctor was tyin' my arm up in a rag he told me he'd get a fur- lough fer me, 'n' I'd got ter come home 'n' re- pair damidges. If I'd thought 3-e was all a-frettin' "bout me I mout ha' sent 3'e a what -d'ye -call -it — I mean a tellygram, but I was stupid 'nuff not to think on it. I 'lowed mebbe ye'd be gladder ter see me 'f I sort o bounced in on ye 'thout lettin' ye know nothin' 'bout it. I don't wonder at yet worr3'iti' since father told me ye heerd I was killed. I seen suthin "bout it in the paper, myself, but I didn't think it had ter be true jest 'cause the noosepaper said so. I didn't b'lieve it, 'n' I didn't s'pose you would ef ye sh'd happen ter see it. But it's all right anyway, mother. I'^a HOME ! 5 Si " MORE SINCERE GREETINGS. here, 's sound 's a hardtack, 'ceptin' where the Johnny rebs chipped off a piece, 'n' that won't be long gittin' well now *t I've got you 'n' Marier to do the nussin'. But say, mother, have ye got any pie?" "Why, bless ye. Si, of course I have, an' if I'd known you was comin' I'd 'a' had a dozen ready baked for ye. I'd ought to thought o' yer bein' hungry, but I couldn't think o' nothin' only that you was here." They had already reached the house and there were not four happier hearts in the world than theirs, as they crossed the threshold. Si's mother inquired with tender solicitude if his arm did not need attention. "We've been makin' bandages and scrapin' lint to send down to the hospitals," she said, "and I've got plenty of 'em. Who'd ha' thought I was gettin' 'em ready to use on my own boy!" Si thanked his mother, but assured her that his stom- ach was just then in much greater need of her kindly min- istrations than was his arm. Remembering the perennial vigor of his appetite, she bestirred herself with a zeal be- fitting the occasion. "Look around a bit. Si," she said, "an' see if things is nat'ral. I'll have a good snack ready for ye right quick." Si wandered about the house and farmyard in a trans- port of delight, as everywhere his eye met objects that had been familiar to him from his earliest remembrance. Every article in the house looked just as it used to, only tenfold more charming, and the well polished furniture seemed to shine with a smile of welcome. Out by the barn Old Spot and Muley .rolled their big eyes and lowed as if in recogni- tion ; the speckled hen and the lordly rooster cocked their heads and winked as much as to say "How are ye, Si;" the sheep came gallopingup at hiscall; and even the swine lifted their snouts and grunted a greeting that was cti- dently sincere, whatever it may have lacked in melody. Si was half inclined to draw the line at the pigs. After CORNER IN PIE. 135 his diet of the past year he felt that he never wanted to see another pig as long as he lived. •'Great Ccesar!" he exclaimed, as he peered over into the sty, "I wonder how many more bar'ls o' pork 'n' flitches o' bacon I've got ter swaller 'fore this 'ere rebellion 's squelched !' But it does taste good 'long 'th the hardtack wh.en a feller's reel hungry. I don't see how they c'd run a war 'thout hogs any more 'n 'thout soljers." "Come, Si!" His soliloqu}^ v^as abruptly ended by his mother calling him to the meal that had been pre- d pared. How sweet- ly her voice sounded in his ears ; and with what alacrity did he obc}^ the welcome summons. The combined ef- forts of mother and sister had produced a royal feast. Ex- haustive drafts had been made upon the family larder, and the table was si's barnyard welcome. spread with everything that appetite could wish. ' ' I'm sorry I hain't got nothin' better for ye, Si, " remarked his mother, in an apologetic way— as the skillful housewife always doesw^hen she is conscious that her culinary efforts have been more than usually successful. ^''Tis too bad, mother, I feel sorry 'bout it, mj'self," said Si, as he began the attack upon a quarter section of pie, "But reely," he continued, "ye don't mean it, fer this is 536 "wish shorty was here!" jest boss. Ye'd think same 's I do 'f ye'd been tryin' ter live on the kind o' grub we have down in Comp'ny Q. Ye wouldn't have a tooth left in yer jaws. I tell ye what 'tis, mother, that feller's head was level 't writ that song 'bout 'Ther' ain't no place like home.' The boys sings it a good deal down in Dixie, 'n' 'tain't no nonsense, nuther.'' Si's talk was not continuous. It was as natural for his tongue to go rattling on as it was for him to eat when- ever he had a good chance. At this time both impulses were strong and he gratified them by turns. The happy combination was not more satisfactory to himself than to his mother and Maria, w^ho sat upon either side listening to his chatter and enjoying almost as much as he did the keen relish and the rapidity v^ith which he disposed of the edibles. His ability to wait upon himself was sadly crippled, but this lack was fully supplied b}^ his faithful attendants, who anticipated his every want, and pre- pared his food in convenient shape for conveyance to his mouth. "Wish Shorty was here so he c'd have a squar' meal fer once," he continued, as he poured a liberal "ration" of rich cream into his third cup of coffee. "I'd like ter send a gallon er two o' this stuff down to the boys o' Comp'ny Q — what there is left of 'em, fer they got cut up awful wher; we went up the ridge. But I ain't goin' ter talk 'bout that now, fer it makes me feel bad jest ter think on it. Ye don't know Shorty, do 3'e? P'r'aps ye don't understand how every soljer 's got a pard. Shorty 's mine, and ther' ain't a man 'n the rijiment that's got 's good a pard 's I have. He ain't so mighty scrumptious lookin', but he's what some folks calls a ' singed cat' — he's a heap better 'n e looks. I couldn't git 'long 'thout Shorty, nohow. An' tne best thing 'bout him is he's got sand 'nuff fer him and me both." "What in the world do soldiers want to carry sand for?" asked Maria. "I should think they'd have load CONCERNING '"SANU." 537 enough without that, an' I can't see what good it can do 'em." "Oh, I don't mean 't Shorty er any o' the boys lugs gravel 'round with 'em all the time," said Si, amused at his sister's literal interpretation. "It's jest a way we has o' talkin' in the army. P'r'aps youd call it 'nerve' er 'spunk' er 'grit,' but we calls it 'sand,' 'n' I don't b'lieve there's any place in the wide world where a feller needs so much on it, 'n' fust qualit}'-, too, 's in the army. When the boys says a feller hain't got no sand, that means he's no 'count. Now I guess ye understand what 'sand ' is, don't ye?" Maria readily admitted that his explanation was clear and ample. "Si," said his mother — and a tear glistened in her eye as she looked into his face, with maternal love and pride — "I'm glad jou've got what you call 'sand.' I shouldn't like to have ye one of the other kind ye was tellin' 'bout." "Well, mother, I jest had to have it, 'cause I wasn't goin' ter do nothin' 't 'd make ye 'shamed o' me. I've had 'nuff ter last me this fur, but I tell ye it purty nigh gi'n out sometimes. 'Tain't safe ter brag any, fer I've seen fel- lers 't you'd think to hear 'em talk they had sand 'nufF ter stock up a hull rijiment ; 'n' when it come ter the pinch they didn't have no more 'n ther' is in the gizzard of a chicken what's jest hatched. Ye can't most always tell t'll ye see a man in a tight place. Mebbe my sand '11 run out some day, but I don't b'lieve 'twill. If it does it'll be time fer Si Klegg ter turn up his toes." When Si had eaten all he could hold, his mother and sister gave their attention to his arm. As they unwound the bandages with gentle fingers and disclosed the ugly gap that had been torn in the flesh by the cruel missile, the tenderest and most emphatic expressions of sympathy and commiseration escaped from their lips. They were unanimous in the opinion that it was "awful." 538 CARRYING THE NEWS TO ANNIE. "Fiddlesticks I" said Si, "that ain't notliin' 't all— jest a mere scratch — compared ter what hunderds o' the bo^^s got. If you'd been where I was the night arter the fight you'd ha' thought I was mightylucky ter git off with that, sayin' nothin' 'bout all them that was killed." While they washed and dressed his wound, Si drew a graphic picture of the scenes he had witnessed at the field hospital. They had read of such things in the newspapers, but they had never seemed real to them before. There were many involuntary shudderings and exclamations of horror during the recital. Si's wound was already beginning to heal, and his healthy condition v\ras favorable to speedy recovery. "That's fust rate!" he said, after his arm was nicely wrapped in clean, white bandages. "I wish the poor boys a-sufferin' down there had 's good nusses as you be. I want ye ter do yer level best on me 'n' git me cured up so I kin go back. My musket 's waitin' fer me." His mother and sister looked sadly at each other, but made no reply. "Si," said Maria, after she had assisted her mother to clear away the "things," "I'm goin' to run over and tell Annie that you've come, and that I guess you'll call 'round this evening. She'll be most as glad to see ye: as / was." "D'ye reely mean that, Marier?" and the rich color mantled Si's brown cheek as he spoke. "Of course I do," replied Maria. "I thought her poor little heart v^as clean broke wdien the awful news came that you was killed. You jest wait and see. Si — if you can muster up courage enough to go over there." "I was thinkin' — that is — I mean — I was goin' ter ax ye 'bout her, soon 's I got a chance," and Si's face kept grow- ing redder. "What a goosey you are, to be sure," said his sister, roguishly. ^^ Ain't you a brave soldier, talkin' so much COMFORTING ASSURANCES. 539 about *sand' an' chargin' batteries an' capturin' flags, an' ye dassent go to see a pretty little girl like Annabel !" Si did not reply to this sally, for he Was painfully con- scious that what she said was true. He felt that it would take more "sand " to go and see Annie than it did to carry the colors of the 200th Indiana up the blazing ridge. "You may tell — Annie — that I'll be 'round this evenin'!" he said at length. Then he put on his hat and went out back of the house to think. He wanted, more than anything else in the world, to go right along with Maria. If the house of An- nabeFs father had been full of armed rebels, he would not have hesitated a moment ; as it was, he concluded to wait till the friendly darkness would cover his movements. If he should go now the eyes of the whole world w^ould be upon him. Si watched eagerly for his sister's return, though it was, of course, wholly accidental that he happened to be stand- ing at the front gate when she came. "What did — she say ?" he asked. "I ain't goin' to tell you nothin' 'bout it," she replied. "It spiles such things to have 'em go drizzlin' at second- hand from somebody else's tongue. She ain't half as 'fraid of you. Si, as you be of her. She tried to hide from me the tears that come into her eyes when I told her you was here. Now don't keep askin' questions, for I shan't tell ye no more, only jest that ye needn't be noways afeard that yell find yerself locked out when ye go there." During the remainder of the day Si strolled over the farm and talked with his father, who was busy in bringing up the arrears of his work. "It's preciouslittlei've done fer nigh a week, "said Farmer Klegg, "'cept drivin' to town arter news, an' things is badly behind. I reck'n it's purty much the same with a good many o' the neighbors that has boys in Com- pany Q." 540 A HAPPY MEETING. "Wish 't I c'd help 3^e. father." said Si, "but 1 can't arn my board jest now." "Si," replied his father, "all I want o' you is jest to stan' 'round where 1 can look at ye. It's a powerful blessin' to these old eyes o' mine!" In the few hours since his return, Si had come to realize, more than during all the long months of his absence, how tender the affection and solicitude, how grievous the cor- roding anxiety, of those who watched and waited and prayed at home. After supper Si fixed himself up, with the help of his sis- ter, put on his hat and w^ent out. No one asked him where he was going, but his mother and Maria exchanged smiles as he remarked, with averted face, that he wouldn't be gone a great while. His heart beat furiously as he drew near to the house where Annabel lived. Perhaps its unusual agitation was due to his rapid w^alk to get there. Be this as it may, he found it necessary to pause a moment and make an effort to compose himself. Then he rapped timidly on the door, as if he were afraid of alarming the whole commu- nity. In fact, like Poe's fantastic raven, "so gently he came tapping" that neither the good farmer, who sat reading aloud the latest war news, nor his wife, who was listening while she mended the family hose, heard it. Old people do not always hear very well. But there was one whose quick ears caught the sound, just as though they had been listening for it. As Annabel rose to answer the summons, her heart was galloping not less rapidly than w^as the one beneath the blouse of the young soldier standing without — and she had not been doing anythingthat might cause such vigorous pulsations. Very softly she lifted the latch and opened the door. "Si!" "Annie!" There was no need for elaborate phrases of greeting. THE CURRENT RUNS SMOOTHLY. 54-1 A whole lexicon could not have expressed more. Obeying her first impulse she threw her soft, round arms about his neck, while he made most efficient use of the one arm at his command. At no time since his hurt had he felt so sorely the need of two good ones. But then, if he had not b^en wounded he would not have had the privilege of see ing Annabel, and half oisuch a loaf was agood deal better than no bread at all. So he was comforted. Up to this time the interview had been so much in the nature of a pantomime that Annabel's father and mother did not know that it was going on. The farmer read on and his wife stitched away with her darning. An instant later there was a sound that the farmer and his wnfe did hear. Si, in his ardor, did not properly gauge the smack he bestowed upon the girl who was trembling in his embrace. It made the farmer drop his paper, and his wife start so that she pierced her finger with the needle. Both greeted Si with effusive cordiality. Fully aware of the childish partiality of Si and Annabel for each other, they had naturally watched his conduct in the army with something more than a mere neighborly interest. He had often been the subject of conversation, and Annabel knew that the faultless manner in which he had acquitted himself had won for him a warm place in their hearts. Nor did they seek to repress her growing fondness for a lad who had passed so honorably through the fiercest test of true manliness. Under these favoring influences the coy sensitiveness which she felt at first had been, in ameasure, gradually dissipated. So it was that at this time the presence of the * ' old folks " — usually considered a discouraging feature of such an occasion — caused no embarrassment to Annabel; v^diile the warmth of his reception at once put Si at his ease. For an hour his tongue was kept busy answering the multitude of questions from the farmer and his wife about the great battle, the neighborhood boys in Company Q, 542 si'^s PLUCK. his wound, and his soldier life in general. There was now and then a word from Annabel, though she was mostly content to sit and listen. Si was supremely happy in the sunshine of her presence. Between their eyes there seemed to be a telegraphic communication, the result of which was mutually satisfying. "I s'pose ye won't go back to the army, now ye've got hurt so bad," said her father. Annabel glanced quickly at him, as if to read his answer before it was uttered. "Of course I will," he rejDlied, "'n' I shan't be a great while gittin' over this pin scratch. As long 's ther' is any Companj^ Q I'm goin' ter stay with the boys, 'nless I ketch it a good deal wuss 'n this !'' Annabel's eyes dropped to the floor, for thethought of his plunging again into battle was painful to her. She could not but admire his pluck, however, and his spirited answer raised him another peg in the estimation of her parents. When Si said he "guessed it was time for him to go" the farmer and his wife expressed the hope that they might see him often during his stay, and he mentally resolved that this hope should not be disappointed. CHAPTER XL. Si Gets a Big Letter From the Governor, Answers it, and Rejoins His Regiment. FOR days Si was besieged by those who wished to in- quire after their friends in Company 0. There were some sad interviews, as he told of one that was killed a^nd another that was wounded in the battle. One of the first to call was the neighbor who brought the news that day to Mr. Klegg, and whose son Tom died of his wounds at the field hospital. Si had carefully brought home the ar- mother's pretty quilt. 543 tides Tom intrusted to his care, and delivered them to the heart-broken father. In reply to the latter's inquiries, Si described the death scene in a simple, earnest way that brought tears to the eyes of all who heard it. Si's furlough was for thirty days, with an assurance that it would be extended if he was not able to return to duty at the expiration of that time. Although the days passed like a happy dream, before the time was half gone he began to grow impatient. His arm was doing nicely, but the healing process, necessarily slow, was by no means fast enough for him. Every time his wound was dressed he examined it with a critical eye, and calculated the chances on his being able to start back at the end of his thirty days. He finally made up his mind that he would go, whether his arm was well or not. He was sure that he could make himself useful at the front in some way, and he longed to be once more in his place among his comrades. "Si,'" said his mother one day, as he sat eating a freshly- baked mince-pie, "ye can't think what a comfort it 's been to me to thiniv of yer havin' that nice warm quilt I gave ye when ye went away. There hasn't been a single eight when it was cold an' stormy that it hain't come to my mind what a blessin to ye it was that ye had it. I reck'n ye've slep' a good deal comfortabler than the poor fellow^s that don't have nothin'but their army blankets — an' some o' them, I hear, is awful shoddy. I s'pose there's lots o' the soldiers that hasn't got mothers to give 'em warm quilts." Si was in a tight place and did not know what to say. He had often thought of that quilt, since it met its cruel fate at one of the halts during the first day's march. Whenever he recalled the circumstance it caused a shock to his feelings to think hov/ glad he was to get rid of it, to ease his aching shoulders ; and it is not to be won- dered at that he had never had the courage to tell his 54-4 SI MAKES A CLEAN BREAST OF IT. mother, in any of his letters, what had become of it. He was sure that if he did she would never forgive him. Now he was in a sad quandary. Something had to be said, and he racked his brain to find a way out of the woods. As he did not reply with his usual readiness his mother ven- tured the remark that maybe it was getting pretty well used up by this time. Si was quick to make the most of the opportunity thus offered, and he promptly answered that he believed it was " about gone up." "Well, it's all right," said his mother. "I was hopin' ye might bring it home with ye when ye was through sol- dierin', for I worked many an hour to make it, but I don't care if ye've wore it out, seein' it's done ye so much good " Then Si concluded he had better tell her the whole story. While he was about it he told her what became of most of the other pretty things with which they equipped him for the war. "I tell ye what, mother," he said, "it went mightily agin the grain ter do it, but 'f I hadn't I'd ha' been dead long ago. rd jest like to seen Fow tryin ter tote the load 't I jdid. No, I don't mean that, nuther, fer I wouldn't fer the world have ye suffer 's I did that fust day we marched. My knapsack seemed like 't was 's big 'n' 's heavy 's a load o' hay, 'n' my gun like a saw-log, 'n' the catridge-box'n' canteen 'n' haversack all a-pullin"n' grind- in', 'n' me a-sv^eatin' t'U I w^as 's wet 's a drownded rat, 'n' everv bone 'n my body achin', 'n' my feet all kivered with big blisters — I tell ye, mother, ef it had been a^ou, j^ou 'd ha' flung them traps awa^^ long 'fore I did. I stuck to 'em 's long 's I could, 'n' Shorty all the time a-tellin' me to git shet of 'em." Si's mother listened with some surprise. She had read about the suffering of the soldiers on the march, but she had never realized it before. Si had said very little about it in his brief and rather infrequent letters, for he wished to "not any more, thank you!'* 545 avoid increasing his mother's soHcitude by letting her know what hardships thej^ were compelled to endure. "Well, I declare," she exclaimed, "how foolish we was, and didn't know it ! We thought them things was jest what ye wanted. Of course ye did right, Si. Ye oughtn't to tried to carry 'em at all. I'm glad ye told me, 'cause I was gettin' a lot more things read}' for ye when ye go back — which Heaven knows I wish ye didn't have to — an' now I low 3^e won't want 'em." "No, mother! I'm ever so much 'bleeged to ye, but a soldier 's better off 'f he hain't got but mighty little 'sides what the guvyment gives him. We thought we knowed it all, but it didn't take long ter find out 't we didn't know nothin'. We don't mind the marchin' now, fer we've got broke in — 'ceptin' once 'n a while when they crowds us extry hard — but yell have ter 'xcuse me f'mtryin'ter make a pack-mule o' myself ag'in. I b'lieve I know when I've got 'nuff. I guess I ought ter have a new fine-tooth comb, but I don't think o' nothin' else." Si was a little more diplomatic in explaining these things to Annabel. In fact he had hung on to the keepsakes she had given him with a tenacity that was the strongest pos- sible evidence of his regard for her. One by one the\' had succumbed to the inevitable, and through the accidents of campaigning had gone to swell the long list of casualties. All he had left was the locket he w^ore aro^md his neck. This had escaped the general wreck, though in a badly tar- nished and battered condition. The slippers he had carried for months, braving the rude jests and gibes which the}' never failed to elicit from his comrades. They were like a poultice to his feet after a day's march, though there was usually so much camp duty to be done that it was only now and then that he had a chance to put them on. One evening he went to sleep with his feet so close to the fire that the heat warped and twisted the soles into wrinkles and scorched the uppers so that they were no longer either use- 546 THE FATE OF THE BIG KNIFE. fill or ornamental. This catastrophe was very depressing to Si, but time gradually softened the poignanc}' of his grief. In one of his interviews with Annabel he told her how much her kind remembrances had done to assuage the sorrows and discomforts of arm}' life. She thought the slippers must be about worn out, and said she would make a new pair for him, but he tenderh' dissuaded her bv the assurance that he wouldn't need any more. One da\^ Si's old Sunday-school teacher, who armed him with the big knife, called to see him. This excellent man had an idea that the brilliant individual record his former pupil had made — of which he was go proud — and the halo of glor}' that surrounded the name of the 200th Indiana, were chiefl}' due to the ghastl}^ havoc of that devastating weapon, as Si hewed his way toward the heart of the South- ern Confederacy. He asked Si about it, and the answer he received caused him great heaviness of heart. Si told him frankly that the knife had not created any need of orphan asylums, nor made any women widows. It had not been without its uses in camp. It was a good thing to chop off the heads of confiscated chickens, and did general utility service as a butcher-knife until its edge was gone. Then its usefulness waned, as grindstones were not issued to the army. Finally he broke it while trying to pr^^ open a sugar barrel, one dark night when he was on guard over a pile of commissary stores. Thus ended the picturesque romance of that knife, as an implement for the rapid extir- pation of the human race. Kind-hearted old ladies from all the region round about called at the Klegg farmhouse. Not one of them would be satisfied until she had seen Si's sore arm, and the pro- foundly sympathetic "m-m-m's" and "a-a-ah's" made him laugh in spite of himself. They wanted to see how a wound looked. Each of them suggested a healing emol- lient that alwavs "worked like a charm," and could not fail to "bring him 'round "in short order. No two of these A CONFLICT OF DOCTORS. 547 remedial prescriptions were alike, but each was a sovereign balm, better than anything in the materia medica of the doctors. The faith of these noble women in the efficacy of their respective remedies was unbounded, based upon forty or fifty years of domestic experience. Si was so anxious to get well that he wanted Nature supplied with all jDossible accessories that might aid her in the work of restoration. One of these good Samaritans extolled the virtues of "goose-grease" — it was "powerful soothin'." She'd send Betsey over with a bottle, right away. Si's arm was copiously anointed with it, and the next morning he said he believed it was a good thing. Then came another matron who inquired with the ten- derest solicitude what he was doing for his wound. When informed of the application that \vas being made she held up her hands in astonishment. "The very wust thing yecould put on it," she exclaimed. "I know who 'twas reckimended that stuff; it was Wid- der Pottleby. She uses goose-grease fer everA'thing, from headache down to a stubbed toe. When folks gits well in spite of it she thinks it's that as does it. The best eint- ment in the world is mutton taller from a Southdown lamb killed at the full o' the moon, mixed ekal parts with cream from a three-j^ear-old Alderney heifer. I've been experimentin' with all the different kinds o' sheep an' cattle an' these mixes the best. I jest made up a fresh lot t'other day an' I'll send ye some." Then the goose-grease was carefully rubbed off and the new unguent was applied, only to give place, the next day, to some other homely specific. Everj- known variety- of salve, ointment, "ile," poultice, plaster, liniment and cata- plasm was urged, and, as the result of this universal sym- pathy, the mantels and \vindow-sills of the house were cov- ered with bottles and boxes, enough to stock a brigade hospital. Si's faith in them was badly shaken by the dis- ^48 FEASTING AND FATTENING. agreements of the numerous woman-doctors, and at length he wisely concluded that he would get along better with- out any of them. He thought his arm would get weli quicker "itself/' an opinion that was fully justified by the outcome. During the whole of Si's stay there was unabated activ- ity in the kitchen. His mother and sister exerted them- selves with a zeal that never for an instant flagged, to satisfy his appetite with everything that their combined skill could produce. He had unrestricted license to forage at will in the pantr}^ and the various cupboards which were used for the storage of pastry and delicacies. It is hardly necessary to say that he made the most of so choice an oppor- tunity, and as a result of his riotous living he fattened rapidly, fully recovering from the shrinkage of flesh that was the natural conse- quence of his hard field service. He went often to the village, w^here every- body met him with warm greetings. The SI AT THE CORNER GROCERY. blushiug maidcns smiled sweetly upon him, as he promenaded the streets, and the small boys regarded him as a more conspicuous figure in the w^orld's history than Napoleon Bonaparte, or Alexander the Great. Whenever he dropped into the corner grocery he was compelled to tell, over and over again, the story of the battle, for the edification of the loungers who sat around on the barrels and crippled chairs. The grocery was the village "clearing-house" for news of all kinds. AN IMPORTANT LETTER FOR SI. S-iO Here weight}- problems of war and statesmanship were solved, brilliant campaigns carried on, fierce battles fought over, and unmistakable conclusions reached as to how the war ought to be conducted. The listener could riot but realize what the country had suffered because these rustic patriots had not been chosen to lead the impatient armies, and pilot the ship of state over the tempestuous sea. Si and Annabel got on famously. He was a frequent visitor, basking in the smiles of the red-cheeked lass. Althotigh no word passed between them on the subject, it required no extraordinary gift of prophecy to foretell that by and by, when the cruel war was over, the parson would be called in. A day or two before Si left for the front there came to the post-office an envelope about a foot long, addressed in a large, bold hand, " Lieutenant Josiah Klegg." The post- mark showed that it was from the capital of the state. The village postmaster served as a kind of substitute for a daily newspaper. Hew-as the great disseminator of neigh- borhood news and gossip, much of which he obtained by guessing at the contents of the letters that passed through his hands. All these he examined and speculated upon with a skill only acquired by long practice. Si's big letter, with its impressive superscription, riveted his attention, and before it was called for half the people in the village knew all about it. Si drove into town that day, and the first person he met told him there was an important letter at the post-office for him. Before he reached the office half a dozen others had imparted the same information. "Hello, Lieutenant," said the smiling postmaster, as Si appeared at the threshold, "I've got a letter for j^ou." "Tliat's what everybody's been a-tellin' me," said Si. "But what ye talkin' that w^ay ter me fer? I ain't no lef- tenant!" "I have an idea that the man who wrote your letter t)50 LIEUTENANT JOSIAH KLEGG.' knows more about that than you do, Si. Of course I don't know what's in it, but folks think I'm pretty good at guessin'. I 'low it 's from the governor." With feelings of mingled awe and bewnlderment Si took the ponderous missive. He turned it over and over, won- dering what its contents could be. He was a little piqued at the burning impatience of the postmaster to have him open it, and intimated that it was his letter, and he would wait until he was ready. When his agitation had sub- sided he wxnt out into the adjacent wagon-shed, and after assuring himself that no one was looking at him, he carefully tore open the envelope. With trembling fingers he drew out an imposing document, with a big red seal and bearing the signature of the gover- nor. He read with amazement that Josiah Klegg had been ap- ! pointed a second lieu- tenant in the 200th Indiana. Accompany- A LETTER FROM THE GOVERNOR. ing it "\vas a pcrsoual letter in which the governor told him that he had been promoted in recognition of his conspicuous gallantry in the recent battle, which had been so honorable to him- self, his regiment and his state. Irnpelled by curiosity the postmaster hunted up Si and found him in a half dazed condition, scratching his head and trying to comprehend it all. "Well, Si,'' he said, "didn't I guess it about right?" "I'm jest teetotally flabbergasted," replied Si. "Ef I knowed of any othci Josier Klegg I slid think it meant HE couldn't go back ON SHORTY. 551 him, but 'pears 's though I'm the feller the guv'ner 's after." "Let me be the first to congratulate you, Si — excuse me, I mean Lieutenant Klegg," said the postmaster. "You have nobly earned your promotion and we are all proud of you. I'm going to start a subscription to buy you a sword." But Si was already off and scarcely heard the old gentle- man's words. He was thinking only of the good people at home and how glad they would be to learn the news. It sounded strangely to hear people whom he met address him as " Lieutenant "—for the gossip of the postmaster had come to be universally believed. Si drove rapidly homeward. All the way he was think- ing of his promotion — as unexpected to him as would have been a stroke of lightning. How nice it would be to wear shoulder-straps, and swing a "cheese-knife." How proud of him his mother and sister Maria would be, and how happy he hoped it would make Annabel. Then it flashed across his mind that if he was an officer he could not have Shorty for his "pard" any longer, and that out- weighed all other considerations. He wouldn't be an officer. Si's face flushed with pardonable pride as he unfolded the commission before the astonished eyes at the farm- house. His declaration that he would not accept it was received with the greatest surprise. Maria told him he ought to be a brigadier-general. At first every effort was made to dissuade him from declining his promotion, but with- out avail. "Well," said his mother, at length, "Si knows best. It's jest as much honor to have had the commission sent to him, an' if he don't want it I s'pose he'll have to send it back." Si sat down and wrote to the governor. It was the most momentous undertakiikg in the way of writing a 552 DECLINED, WITH THANKS. letter he had ever attempted. After a dozen fresh starts he succeeded in conve^ang his message. He wrote : Mr. Guvner Deer frend. i rite these few lines hopin you are enjoyin the blessins of good helth. i waseut expectin a letter from j'-ou speshly such a kind of one as i got today. Ime ever so much bleeged to ye Mr. Guv- ner fer sendin me that commishn but i verj^ respectively incline. In the fust place i aint fit to be no ossifer i dont no enuff cause ime jest nothin but a boy and haint never had much larnin. I can git long faster puttin down the rebelyun, that is helpin do it 3'ew no w^hat I meen, with my muskit than i can with a sord. Ive got used to my gun but I dont no nothin bout a sord an I never seen a sord hurt nobody nuther. Ef the army was all ossifers thout nobody to carry muskits the war wood- ent be over in a thowsan years. Course we needs to have ossifers an weve got some bully ones in the 200th ridgment. When ye want to make a new lot of em ye wont have no trubble a findin plenty thats bettern me an they wants sholeder straps wussen I do. But I haint toled ye the biggest reeson why i send \'e this dockj-ment. Its cause I cant go back on Short^^ Mebbe ye dont no Shorty but lies my pard an lies the boss soljer. Ef ye cood make him fust lewtenant i woodent mind bein seckond an then we cood bunk together sames we alius has. Hes nothin but a privit so i spose ye cant do it an ide ruther be jest Corporil Klegg ef its all the saim to you. Yer umbel sarvent Josiah Klegg P S pleese exkuse bad ritin an spellin. When Si's furlough expired his wound was not fully healed. His friends had urged him to have his leave re- newed but he was impatient to return and would not listen to their advice. Tearful farewells w^ere spoken, and with a handful of trifling remembrances — instead of the wheelbarrow-load with which he started out before — he boarded the train and went whirling awa3\ He was not wholly unincumbered, however, for the mothers and sisters of his company comrades had intrusted to his care for them many tokens of affection ; besides surcharging him, to the very muzzle, with a hundred verbal messages, not one in ten of which he could possibly remember. "When Si reached the camp of the 200th Indiana, still carrying his arm in a sling, he received an effusive welcome. shorty's amazement. 553 "PV'aps I can't do much 'th my gun fer a while yit," he said to Shorty, whom he was overjoyed to meet, "but I couldn't stan' it no longer, 'n' I reck'n I kin find suthin ter do. Ef we git inter a fight I kin bite catridges 's fast 's half a dozen on ye kin shoot." After they had gone to bed that night Si told his com- rade' about the commission he had received from the eov* ernor. Shorty threw off the blanket and jumped to his feet with a shout of delight. "Pard," he said, "I'm gladder 'n I kin tell ye, 'cause I know how well ye desarve it. The guv'ner's head was level when he done that. I'll be mighty proud on 3^e, seein* ye rigged up like 'n ossifer. I s'pose ye got a gorjus out- fit. Why didn't ye put on yer leftenant's traps so the boys could see ye was some punkins ? " Si knew there was no sham in Shorty's words, and on his account almost regretted that he had declined the pro- motion. "Shorty," he said after a moment, "I'm 'feard ye won't like it, but I didn't keep the commishn. I jest sent it back ter the guv'ner." "What!" exclaimed his pard in amazement. "Sent it back ! Ef you ain't the biggest — " "HoF on, pard," interrupted Si, "I know what ye're goin' ter say. Mebbe I am, but wait t'll ye hear the hull thing. It was jest 'cause I couldn't go back on you, Shortv. I knowed I'd have ter take my grub 'long 'th ossifers 'n' I couldn't have ye fer my pard no more. Seemed ter me I wouldn't 'mount ter shucks 'thout you, 'n' that settled it. I writ the guv'ner 't ef he'd make you fust leftenant 'n' me second I'd call it a go." "Si," said Short}^ after giving expression to his surprise in a long, low whistle, "I kin tell j-e one thing; yewouldn't ha' sent that thing back ef Fd been thar! " CHAPTER XLI. i5i AND Shorty Re-enlist and go Home on "Veteran Furlough. " 4 4 ^~^I," said Shorty, one cold night in January, "how ^.J^ d' ye feel 'bout reinlistin' fer three years more?" The 200th Indiana was along wa^^ from its base of sup- plies, engaged in an arduous campaign. For many days the soldiers had been without tents. At this time they were bivouacking in the woods, with no shelter save sucn as they had made of sticks, boughs of pine and balsam, and a few rails and boards that were picked up by scour- ing that desolate region. It was snowing heavily and the biting blasts of midwinter howled among the trees. The men heaped high the blazing fires and hovered closely around them, grimy with smoke and shivering with cold. It was a wild, rough night, that made a soldier think of home in spite of himself. Si was standing before the fire, his front and rear freezing and toasting alternately as he turned himself around at frequent intervals. The smoke, whirled about in every direction by the wind, caused a copious and involuntary cshedding of tears, and steam ascended from his garments, wet by the melting snow. It may be doubted whether his mother or sister Maria or even Annabel could have identified him, in that dismal group. "What's that yeVe saj'in'?" he asked, in reply toShorty's remark. A general interest in the subject was manifested by his comrades, who formed a circle around the fire. 554 A SUBJECT FOR CONSIDERATION. 555 "I was only axin' ye," said Short3^ "liuw ye'd lilve ter out yer name down 'n' be swored in fer three years 'onger o' this sort o' thing. I was over to the 199th Michigan this atternoon 'n' I heerd the boys say the guvyment wants all the old schers ter reinlist. I reck'n f'm the way you fellers seems ter be fnj'yin' yerselves tonight ye'll all on ye jest go a-tumblin' up ter the 'cruitin' office — in a horn." "What's the idee o' their talkin' that way," said Si, "'s k)ng 's we've got a good bit ter sarve yet 'fore our fust .v j-j^ three 3'ears is up T sh'd think ther' 'd , be time 'nuff then ^ ter talk 'bout goin' in ag'in." " I don't quite git the hang o' the scheme myself, ' * re- plied Shorty, "but 's near 's I c'd make out this 's the way on 't. Ther' don't nobody know how long this 'ere re- bellyun 's goin*" ter last. Don't seem 's ^ xmomentous question. if we'd made much headway yet puttin' on it down. Looks 's if the war wouldn't quit t'll all the men 's killed off 'n' ther' ain't no people left 'cept the women. Then mebbe they '11 pitch in 'n' keep it up. 'Twouldn't be s'prisin', f'm the way some o' the secesh women talks down here. They're good at fightin' 'th their chins. But ye see what the guvyment wants is ter git the dead wood on these old rijiments. Ye know most o' the fellers that's left in 'em has got purty 556 SHORTV S DISCOURSE. tollable tough. They ain't none o' yer spring chickens. They've got used ter the arm}' grub 'n' the hard marchin' 'n' lyin' 'round 'n the mud 'n' they kin stan' it; 'n' when 't comes ter fightin' most on 'em 's got the best kind o' grit. 'Sides that they've got the hull business larned 'n' they alius knows jest 's well 's the gin'rals what 's got ter be did, 'n' they wades right in. When it comes ter reel red-hot campaignin', a hunnerd sich soljers is better 'n five hunnerd tenderfoots. Ye recolleck 't we wa'n't good fer much that fust day we marched, 'n' it's jest so 'th all on 'em when they're green. It takes a long time ter make soljers outen such fellers, 'n' a good many on 'em dies in the makin'. Now 't the guvyment 's got a purty fa'r lot o' the fust-class article it wants ter freeze to 'em." "It's bully w^eather fer doin' that!" said Si. "I guess them big ossifers 'n Washington 'd think so ef they was here 'bout now." "Wall, that's the idee, "continued Shorty. "Ther' 's got ter be a heap o' hard fightin' 'fore this thing 's over, 'n' they want soljers 't they kin bet on every time." The members of Company Q had listened attentively to Shorty's remarks on the situation. The subject of re-enlist- ing had never entered their heads before. The time and circumstances did not seem propitious for such a suggestion. Hardships never came singly in the army. It was during the trying campaigns, when the men were footsore and weary, bivouacking without tents and exposed to the rigor of the storms which always came at such times, that ra- tions were short and hunger was added to the aggregation of human woes. It was so at this time with the 200th Indiana; and as the men stood around the fires, in the driv- ing snow, wet, shivering and famished, it would have been but natural if they had felt like mobbing a man who should come among them to urge them to re-enlist. Corporal Kleggwas the first to speak, as Shorty stopped to breathe. "Wall, boys." he said, plowing his fists into TWO OF A KIND. 557 his eyes and ducking his head to escape a fresh cloud of smoke, "I dunno how the rest on ye feels 'bout re- inlistin', but ef they wants me ter jine ag'in I'm ready ter do it." "I'd go with 3^e, Si, ef I was a nat'ral born fool'" said a lank Hoosier, one of the constitutional grumblers of the company. "Look a-here, pard, ye don't want ter go to insini- watin' 'round like that, 'cause I ain't no fool! You don't have ter reinlist 'cause I do. I hain't axed ye ter jine. Ye kin do jest 's ye likes, but when I tuk a gun on my shoulder I calkylated ter stay t'll arterthe benediction. I never was in the habit o' goin' out t'll nieetin' was dismissed." "That's all right, Si ; 3^e needn't spunk up about it. If ye want three 3'ears more o' soljerin' I hain't no 'bjections, 'n* 'twouldn't make no difference 'f I had. But I b'lieve I know when I've got enough, n' by the time m\^ three 3^ears is up I'll be 's full 's I kin hold." "That's my ticket, "said another. "They don't ketch me fer an\' more o' this. I'm goin' ter sta^^ 's long 's I agreed ter, 'f I don't git killed, 'n' then I'm goin' ter quit 'n' give s'mother feller a chance ter lug my traps a while. The woods up in Injianny is full o' men 't hain't 'listed 3^et, 'n' I'd like ter see 'em take their turn. No, I thank ye ; I don't want no more on it 'n mine. If any on ye reinlists 'twon't be long t'll ye '11 be kickin' 3'erselves fer doin' it." And so the talk went on. At first it seemed that Si was the onl}^ member of Company Q who was willing to enlist for another term. At length one of the bo3^s asked Short}^ who had taken no further part in the discussion, what he was going to do about it. "Wall," he replied, "it don't make much difif'runce ter me. I hadn't reely made up m}^ mind what ter do t'll I heerd Si sav he'd reinlist, 'n' that settled me. I ain't eoin' back on my pard. The 'cruitin ossifer 'd be sartin of a pair ef he sh'd start in tonight. I didn't quite git through 558 NEW FACTORS IX THE CASE. tellir.' ye 'bout the business. The}- say 't every man 't reinlists '11 git a bounty of four hunnerd dollars." "Flow much did ye say?" asked Si, opening his eyes very wide. " Four huiinerd dollars !" "Jirainy, but that's a pile o' mone}^ — more 'n I ever seed 'n my life to oncet. Lemme see; that's purty nigh 's much 's a feller gits fer threej^earso'soljerin'. I s'pose they keeps payin' the reg'lar wages jest the same?" "Course they does !"replied Shorty. " The four hunnerd 's extr3^"" This information gave a new interest to the subject, and had the immediate effect to modify somewhat the general feeling. A disposition was manifested to at least give the matter a fair consideration. "It'll be kind o'nice ter have them four hunnerd dollars !" said Si, "but I tell ye what 'tis, money ain't no objick. All the gold 'nCaliforny wouldn't hire me ter go through three vears o' this thing, same 's Fd hire out ter hoe corn erchop wood." Si could say this with good grace, as he had de- clared his willingness to re-enlist before he had heard any- thing of the bounty. "Right ye are, "said one of his comrades. " Money ain't much account to a feller arter he's planted two foot under ground; ner it don't pay fer havin' his arms 'n' legs sawed off. The bounty 's only the sugar they're coatin' the pill with so we '11 swaller it. Fer 's I'm consarned I'm goin' ter 'pass.' " . "Ther"s jest one thing more, boys," said Shorty, after they had spent some time in discussing the financial phase of the question. "All them as reinlists gits a thirty-day furlough right away, 'n' the guvyment takes 'em home n' brings 'em back ag'in, free gratis. I'll miss my guess 'f that don't fetch some on ye !" That magic word "home' —how it thrilled the hearts of those war-worn and weather-beaten soldiers ! The t : - AN EPIDEMIC IN COMPANY Q. 559 derest chords vibrated at its touch. Shorty was right id his surmise that this would "fetch " many of them. The thought of spending a whole month in "God's country," with mothers and wives and sisters and sweethearts, eat- ing three "square," Christian meals a day, and sleeping under a roof, in a good bed, was something that few could withstand. The desire to re-enlist at once, under such conditions, spread through Company Q like the measles. They would stand by the old flag till the last rebel had laid down his arms — of course they would ! There was little opportunity for sleep that night in the cheerless quarters, swept by the wintry blasts and half filled with the drifting snow. Nowhere except close to the fires could be found the slightest approach to comfort. Far into the slowly-creeping hours the boys shivered and smoked and talked, with chattering teeth, about going home, and what they would have to eat when they got there. Before they turned in for the night most of them had reached the point of being actually afraid the chance to re-enlist would not be offered them. There were still a few who stoutly resisted the blandishments of bount3'and furlough, avowing their unalterable determination to repel all such beguiling influences, which, they said, were only bait to catch gudgeons. They did not propose to bite again, for they knew b}^ experience how keen the hook was. "Three years o' this kind o' sarvis,"said one of them, "ismv sheer. When all the chaps that's stayin' to hum has done that much, 'n' it comes my turn ag'in, mebbe I'll give 'er another whirl, but I don't want no more on it this time, ef the court knows herself, and she thinks she does. Them's my sentiments, 'n' I don't keer who knows em." "You jest wait t'll ye see Company Q gittin' ready ter go home, 'n' ye won't feel quite so cranky ! " said Si, who was getting much warmed up over the project. It is true Si had been home once, to nurse his wound, but 560 SLEEPING OVER IT. he was more than ready to go again. He told the boys that he hoped the army would not move while they were away, for he wanted the 200th Indiana to have a hand in everything that was going on. It is possible that some were not quite so anxious on this point as he was. Indeed there is little doubt that, albeit they were proud of the regiment and of their part in winning its honor and fame, they would be resigned to the dispensations of Providence if it should h-appen that a great battle were to take place during their absence. This was not an unnatural feeling, for there were few who wore either the blue or the gray that did not crave fighting less and less, the more they had of it. At length, when the animated debate had exhausted the subject, and each man seemed to have fully made up his mind what he would do in the premises, they disposed themselves as best they could for rest. Some crept into their dreary "shebangs," wrapping themselves tightly in their blankets and overcoats. Others stretched out upon the w^et ground, as near to the fire as they could and yet be safe from absolute cremation. It was but a choice of two evils, either of which was bad enough. Si and Shorty calculated the chances for sleep and con- cluded to try the fire. Spreading a poncho and a blanket in the slush, they laid themselves down with a single i)lanket over them and a log for a pillow. The capes of their overcoats were drawn over their faces and tucked arotmd their heads, to protect them from the wind and mow and stifling smoke. Si finally went to sleep and dreamed he was eating a pie as large as a wagon wheel, when he was awakened by the warmth of a large coal that the snapping fire had landed apon his blanket, and which was rapidly burning its way through to his body. He sprang up with unusual agility, and for the moment resolved himself into a fire depart- ment. A hasty application of snow proved effectual, and THE DAWN OF AN EVENTFUL DAY. 561 he then went to poking up the fire, \vhich sent a shower of sparks and a scorching blast over the forms that cov- ered the ground. After heaping on a fresh supph' of fuel he went around and put out the sparks and embers that had fallen upon his sleeping comrades, and again snuggled down by the side of Short3^ Scarcely anybody lay for an hour during the remainder of the night without getting up to extinguish his smoking garments and to stir the fire. The reveille sounded at dawn, but the bugler did not blow with his usual artistic excellence. His notes came in a feeble, discouraged way, telling plainly that he, too, had passed a sorry night. Everybody was glad that it was time ^o get up, and rejoiced to see the daylight again. It \vas a forlorn company that straggled into line in re- sponse to the "Fall in for roll-call," of the orderly. They answered "Here ! " in tones which, while fully establishing the fact of their presence, betrayed a wish that they were an^^where else. The first duty was to examine- the arms and put them in order, for such a night was apt to have a disabling effect upon muskets as well as men. It is true there seemed little probability that there would be immediate occasion to use them, for no doubt the "Johnnies," too, wherever they might be, were moping around smoking and spluttering fires, as solemn and lugubrious as so many undertakers. But it was better to be ready a thousand times when the rebels did not come than to be unready once when they did. So the boys wiped their guns with their ragged blouses, swabbed out the barrels, picked open the nipples and snapped caps to be sure they would "go" if they should want them to. The scanty breakfast — consisting of pale coffee, from "grounds" that had been repeatedly boiled over, a few fragmentary, water-soaked hardtack, and a rind of bacon — was quickly disposed of. The regiment was not to move 562 CORPORAL KLEGG HEADS THE LIST. that day, and the boys expected to be ordered out for drill in the snow, but for some reason the officers forgot it. This was an oversight that did not often occur. The topic of conversation the evening before w^as still uppermost in the minds of the members of Company y, and all were eager to know whether what Shorty had told them was true, or was onl\^ another "grapevine." Their desire for official information was soon gratified. The company was ordered to fall in again, and the command- ing officer read the order from Washington regarding vet- eran re-enlistments. The terms and conditions were the same as Shorty had heard, except that a number was fixed as the minimum who must re-enlist in a regiment to entitle it to recognition as a "veteran' organization. It was further announced that, as all could not be furloughed at the same time without manifest injury to the service, the regiment in each brigade which first presented the requisite number of re-enlisted men should be the first to go. When the officer had finished Corporal Klegg swung his hat and led off witha yell, in which alfthe company joined except those who had thus far been proof against the con- tagion. But their wistful eyes showed that they were already contemplating a motion to reconsider. The veteran roll was opened at once. In matters of this kind there is nothing like striking while the iron is hot. Certainly no more favorable degree of heat could be expected than that which at this moment warmed into activity the emotions of Company 0. There was no table or desk or tent in the whole bivouac, but a folded poncho was laid across a log near one of the fires, a paper ready for signatures was placed upon it, a pen and a pocket ink- stand were produced, and the recruiting office was com- plete. Si Klegg was promptly at hand to take the pen and be the first to sign the roll. His fingers were stiffened by the cold, and he had a hard job of it, but in course of time SOME HESITATE — WHAT WONDER? 563 his pictiiresqtie autograph adorned the page. Others fol- lowed in quick succession, and three-quarters of the com- pany were ready to be mustered as veterans as soon as their names could be written. Then the work dragged a little. Those who had so firmly resisted all overtures were seen standing around uneasily, holding silent communion with themselves. The impulsive ones, who had responded so readily, \vere desirous that every man in the company should sign the roll, and plied their ob- durate comrades with persuasive words. Is it an}' wonder that they hesitated ? Was it not rather a wonder that any should con- sent to bind himself to three years more of such hardship and suf- fering? The life of a soldier had long since been stripped of all its fascinating show and tinsel. Fiction and ro- mance had given place to the stern and ghast- Iv realitv. The historv SI STARTS THE VETERAN ROLL. of the war records no grander heroism than that dis- played by the re-enlistment of two hundred thousand men. It was a critical time. The government needed those tried and trusty battalions, and the securing of ihem was its salvation. It was not cowardice that held back the few. None had been better soldiers than they ; and when the slow leaven ohould doits work none would be more brave, patient and laithful in the dim, uncertain future. Thev were of those 564 THE LEAVEN AT WORK. who do not yield quickly to an impulse, but when their minds are made up cast no regretful glance l^chind. "Wall, boys, I'm with ye!'' exclaimed, at length, the leader of the opposition, who the night before had declared his fixed determination not to re-enlist. "Taint none o' yer coaxin' that 's done it nuther. IVe been thinkin' it all over 'n' I've made up my mind that it's the cVect thing fer us to do to see this thing through. I hope that if there 's a God in heaven he won't let this cussed war last three years longer, but I'm. goin' to stay by the 200th Injianny as long as there 's anybody left to carry the flag." This patriotic outburst was greeted with uproarious cheers. The boys yelled with delight as the sturdj^ soldier deliberately marched up and with a firm hand signed his name to the roll. This important accession to the ranks gave a new impetus to the work of "veteranizing" Com- pany Q. The opposition was thoroughly demoralized, and those who had denounced the scheme now scrambled in their haste to get hold of the pen. Some of them said they had intended all the time to re-enlist, but they didn't see the use of rushing things. In a few minutes the last man had put his name to the roll; and then there went up a cheer that would have gladdened the heart of "Father Abraham," could he have heard it as it re-echoed through the bleak and drear}^ woods. With an ami}- of such men, victory was but a question of time. The captain of Companj^ was the first to report at regimental headquarters, and the colonel sent his compli- ments to the men for their prompt and emphatic response to the call of duty. Each of the other companies had the same experience in the process of patriotic evangelization. Many were ready to sign the rolls at once, while others gave to the subject grave and careful thought. A few re- fused to the last to be persuaded. But before night the figures showed that the minimum line had been passed, and the 200th Indiana was ready to be mustered in as a "three years or during the war." 565 veteran regiment. The fact was immediately commu- nicated to the general commanding the brigade, who at once ordered that it should be the first to enjo^^ its fur- lough. It was directed to start on the following day. The men received the tidings of their good fortune wath glad shouts, again and again repeated. When the muster- ing officer came over to catch and string the fish that had been "biting" so freely at the bait, they hurried into line; and when the oath was administered they thrust their right arms up to their full length, evidently determined to make the ceremony as binding as possible. They had swallowed bait, hook and bob. "Say, Shorty," asked Si, after the prescribed forms had been dul}^ observed, "w^hat 'd the must'rin' ossifer mean when he said ' fer three j^ears er durin' the war ' ? S'posin' the w^ar hangs on forty er fifty years ; are we stuck fer the bull business? " " 'Durin' the war' sounds a leetle like that," replied his comrade, "but it means suthin else. I axed the cap'n today 'n' he said the guvyment couldn't hold us longer 'n three years 'thout wereinlisted ag'in. I reck'n tlier' won't be more 'n a corporal's guard left o' the 200th Injianny bv the time we've been through three j^ears more o' such sar- vis 's we've been havin'." "It don't make no partickler diff'runce ter me, nohow,'' said Si, "fer I'm goin' ter stay t'll the eend — either of the war er of me — but I was jest a bit curus to know what 'durin' the w^ar' meant." "I'll tell ye what they put that in fer," said Shorty. "It's so 't ef the war sh'd happen ter wind up 'fore ver three years 's out, 'n' the guvyment don't want ye no longer, 3'e'll ha f ter quit 'n' go home. Don't \'e see 't ef the guvj^ment agreed ter keep ye three years, w^ar er no war, it 'd be 'bleeged ter do it, pervidin' 3'e wanted ter stay 'n' hold it ter the barg'in.'" Si burst into a paroxj-sm of laughter, so loud and long 566 HILARITY IN THE 200TH IND/ANA. continued that his comrade feared he would go into a fit. "What on airth ails ye? " asked Shorty. "Ye struck my funny-bone, pard," replied Si, as soon as he could speak, "with that idee 't we 'd all want ter keep right on soljerin' arter they gits this fuss settled. This 'ere sloshin' 'round, 'thout no tents ner no grubner nuthin' 'cept fightin' — we've had plenty o' that — them big fellers must think it's a heap more fun 'nsleepin' under the kivers to hum, 'n' sittin' down to a fust-class lay-out mornin', noon 'n' night, 'n' hearin' a blessin' axed 'fore eatin'. That wouldn't be no good here, 'cause ther' ain't nothin' ter ax a blessin' on. The guvj-ment thinks we'reallaloto'idjuts, er else it's a mighty big durned fool ter s'pose ther"s any danger 't we'll want ter stay arter the rebils is licked." And Si laughed again till the tears flowed down his grimy cheeks. Not since the night the regiment left Indiana to take the ■field had so great hilarity prevailed in the ranks of the 200th. The men danced and sung and laughed and shouted in such a tumultuous way that an ignorant looker-on would have imagined that they were bereft of reason. One more night in the comfortless bivouac and they would turn their faces toward home. As the darkness settled down it seemed to them that never had fires blazed with such a cheerful glow. The bitter blasts had lost their sting, and before the e^-es of the glad soldiers appeared onh- visions of happy scenes and a brief respite from toilsome march and lonely picket — from hunger and cold and wretchedness. There was no thought of the toil and danger and pain that would come afterward. Si had observed with some concern that his pard did not fully share in the general rejoicing. While trying to imagine the cause of this, it came to him that Shorty had no home to go to — no loving friends to clasp their arms about him and weep for joy at his coming. He instantly decided what he would do. shorty's furlough. 567 "Short J," he said, as he sat on a log before the fire, " whar je goin' ter spend yer furlough ?" For a moment Shorty did not reply. There was a sad look in his face that touched the sympathetic chords of Si's heart. "I can't jest tell ye what I will do with m\'self," he said at length. "Ye know, Si, 't things ain't divided round equil 'n this world. Some has homes 'n' friends 'n' all that, 'n' I'm glad fer ye, pard, 't ye're one on 'em. Then, ag'in, there's others 't hain't, but goes driftin' 'bout like a boat 'fore the wind 'thout no rudder. I'm oneo' them, 'n'p'r'aps it's jest as well that way. I reck'n I don't desarve ter have friends 'n' relations 'n' a place ter go to 't I c'd call home, er else I'd had 'em. It 'd be kind o' soothin' ter sich 's me to b'lieve ther's a place arter w^e git through livin' here, whar things 's evened up. Ye mustn't think. Si, 't I'm grumblin' 'cause I ain't fixed like the rest on ve ; er 't I've sot the blues, fer I hain't, no more 'n I often gits 'em. I reck'n 'tain't only nat'ral ter feel sort o' solemncholy when all the boys is lookin' forrard ter sich a good time 'n' ther' ain't nobody on earth 't keers a picayune whether I'm dead er 'live.'' "Don't ye say that, pard," said Si in a voice full of earn- est sympathy, "fer ye know 't I care a heap. Ef ye was my own brother I couldn't think more on ye !" "Wall I'm right glad ef 3'e do, but I guess 3'e're the only one. I tell ye Si" — and Shorty's lips quivered with emo- tions that had not often been awakened in his starved heart — "it's been a Heaven's blessin'terme'tlever know^ed 3'e. Blessin's has been rayther skurce, 'n' when I git one o' the ginowine article it looks big to me. Fact is I'd 'bout 's soon stay here 's ter go up t' Injianny 'n' lie 'round loose like a wagrant." "Shorty," said Si, looking squarely into the face of his friend, "7 kin tell ye whar ye're goin' ter spend yer month off, 'n' ye'U have a good time, too I'' 568 SI DOES NOT FORGET HIS PARD. ''Then ye're smarter 'n' I am'' replied Shorty, with a look of surprise and inquiry. "Would ye like ter know? Ye're goin' hum 'long 'th me. I want ye ter see father 'n' mother 'n' sister Maria 'n' An — Annie — that's all right 'th you, Shorty, 'cause she's a nice gal 'n' she'll be glad ter see ye. I've writ to her 'n' all the rest on 'em 'bout ye, lots o' times. Now ye needn't go ter puckerin' up yer mouth ter say ye won't go, 'cause I'll go ter the colonel 'n' have him detail a guard ter make ye!" The first tears that had inoistened Shorty's eyes for many a 3'ear glistened in the firelight as he said, warmly grasping the hand of his comrade : "Si, when I fust got yer idee I thought ter myself 't I wouldn't accept yer invite, fer I didn't s'pose yer folks keered anything 'bout me''n'I didn't want ter be spongin' on 'em; but I b'lieve ye was 'n arnest when ye axed me, 'n' I'm goin' with ye. I don't 'low ter stay thar all the time, 'cause 'twon't take 'em long ter git tired o' me. I'm ever so much 'bleeged to ye, pard." So this matter was satisfactorily arranged. Si was over- joyed at the thought of having his comrade go home with him ; and the prospect of spending his holiday as a guest in somebody's home threw^ a ray of sunshine across the clouded pathway of Shorty's life. The boys cared little whether they slept at all that night. Some of them tried to, but most of them huddled around the fires, in merry mood, with song and shout and mutual congratulations. Under the circumstances the strict camp regulations were relaxed, and the soldiers of the 200th -were permitted to do about as they pleased. In accordance w^ith the unanimous desire of the men it was determined to start at an early hour in the morning, as the regiment had to march two or three days to reach a point where railroad transportation would be provided. Breakfast — such as it was — was eaten before davlight, and AN UNTIMELY ALARM. 569 five minutes later they were ready to fall in, for they had no pacKing to do except to roll up their blankets. When the bugle sounded and the colonel mounted his horse, the hoys set up a wild A^ell and hurried into line. It was a trying luoment for the "non-veterans," who, havmg declined to re-enlist, were to remain, temporarily assigned to a comparatively new regiment of the brigade, whose length of service was not sufficient to entitle it to the inestimable privilege of re-enlistment. The members of the little squad gazed sadly upon the preparations of their comrades to start homeward. Sallies of army wit, some of them keen and pungent, were aimed at the forlorn group. A few of the more stout-hearted kept up their "nerve" and shouted back that their turn to laugh would come after a few months, when they would go home to stay. But about half of them couldn't stand it any longer. They held a brief council of war and sent a delegate to the colonel to ask if they might yet be saved, or whether the day of grace was past. The colonel directed that an offi- cer be detailed to have them mustered at once, and by a rapid march overtake the column. The conversion of these men at the eleventh hour was received by the regiment with tempestuous shouts. At this moment every ear was startled by half a dozen shots on the picket-line, a mile away. Then the sound of drums and bugles was heard, regiments were hastily formed, and staff officers and orderlies galloped hither and thither with orders. The men of the 200th Indiana grasped their muskets more firmly and looked inquiringly into one another's faces. Was it an attack of the enemy? Must thc\' go into battle at this most unwelcome moment? Were some of them to get their eternal furloughs, or be borne away on stretchers ? "Ef it don't make any diff'runce ter the Johnnies," said Si to Shorty, "it 'd be my ch'ice ter have 'em wait t'll we git back, 'n' then we'll give 'em all the fightin' thev want 570 MARCHING AWAY. — we'll jest fill 'em up. 'Course we ain't goin'ter run awar long 's ther' 's any sliootin' goin' on, 'n' we'll do all we kin ter arn our furlough 'f we haf ter, but it does go a leetle agin the grain this mornin'." The colonel made a speech to the boys, telling them he knew they didn't feel like fighting just then, and he did not blame them. "I feel a little that way myself," he said, ''but if we are needed I know you will show them that you are worthy to be called veterans, and add new luster to the good name of the 200th Indiana." The boys swung their hats and cheered lustily. The col- onel needed no further assurance of their fidelity. But they were spared the test. The firing ceased and an aide, who had been dispatched to the front at the first alarm, returned with the intelligence that it was only the half-starved pickets firing at some pigs which came within range of their muskets. The loud profanity of the general and the colonels was drowned by the shouts of the soldiers. High above all others was heard the mighty yell of the 200th Indiana. The men of the other regiments crowded around the happy Hoosiers to bid them good-by and God-speed, and to fire a few parting shots. "You fellers got the start of us by gittin' thar first, but weVe all comin'." "I reck'n j^e're purty empt}' in the stumick, same 's we are, but when ye git up inter God's country don't eat every thing up. Tell the folks to save suthin fer the rest on us.'" "Better peel off them old duds 'fore ye git home er yer gals won't know ye. They'll take ye fer a lot o' waga- bonds." The band at brigade headquarters plaj^ed "The Girl I Left Behind Me,'' and then "Home, Sweet Home,'"' as the 200th Indiana went swinging away on its "veteran fur- lough." The steps of those eager feet were longer thac the regulation twenty-eight inches. A GENERAL REJUVEXATIOX. 571 The distance to be marched would usuall} have taken three days; the homeward-bound regiment covered it in two; and no complaint was heard of aches or blisters. The fear that the time consumed in traveling would be taken out of the furlough, was quieted by the assurance of the officers that the full thirty da\'S w^ould be given after the regi*,xent reached Indiana. There w^as a day or two of impatient waiting when the railroad was reached, but at length a motley train of flat, box and odorous cattle :,— -^>- cars w^as provided, and ^^^ -^^^"^^ the men, not forgetting ^^fe ^^^^^^^^^ to yell, swarmed in and upon them. They were not disjDOsed to be hy- percritical about their accommodations. When the first depot jf supplies was reached zhey drew entire new outfits of clothing, from hats to hose. But for their weather-beaten faces, they might have been mistaken for new troops. The practiced eye,' however, could easily detect the firm, confident step and soldierly bearing on thk way to "god's that told of long service. country." Wherever opportunity offered, duringthe homeward jour- ney, extraordinary demands w^ere made upon the hotels, restaurants, barber-shops and bath-houses. The effect of these various regenerating agencies was to so transform the men ot the 200th Indiana into the semblance of civ- ilized beings that their comrades, who w-ere still crowding around the smoking fires in the forest bivouac, w'ould have thought they belonged to another planet. Scraggly beards 572 "red-letter" days. were shaved off; long mustaches were trimmed and waxed ; heads were shorn of luxuriant crops of hair, and what re- mained was neatly combed and perfumed; collars and neckties were put on ; and many indulged in the luxury of white shirts. Part of the bounty had been paid in ad- vance, and mone\' was lavishh' spent. Expense was no consideration when anything was wanted. A little more than a week from the da}^ the regiment left the front Companj^ Q reached home. Si Klegg had hoped to surprise his parents and sister and Annabel, but, as before, the telegraph had tipset his plans. The news that the company would arrive spread through all that region, and the boys were received with great effusion of tears and cheers by a multitude of people. Inamoment Si was imprisoned in the arms of his mother and sister. When they released him he greeted Annabel, who was blushing like a peonj^, with a smack as loud as a pistol shot. He didn't care now who heard it. Then he presented Shorty all ai-ound, and "Si's pard " received abundant assurance that he was welcome. Those were "red letter" days. Farmer Klegg's good wife and daughter cooked and cooked, and Si and Short}- ate and ate. Si frequently strolled over to the neighbor's house, and he and Annabel were unanimous in their opinion as to what they would do "when Johnny comes marching home." Shorty did not carry out his intention to stay only a few days. The proposition to go elsewhere was re- ceived with such disfavor by all the members of the family, including "sister Marier," that he v^as forced to yield, and passed the entire month at the hospitable home. Si even indulged the hope that Shorty and Maria might take a mutual "shine" to each other, but in this he was doomed to disappointment, so far, at least, as outward appear- ances were concerned. Shorty never got any further thai? to remark confidentially to Si that she was "a nice girl." Si had feared that his mother and the rest v/ould re A JUDICIOUS INVESTMENT. 573 proach him for re-enlisting, iDtit the Spartan spirit was stronger than ever in their breasts, and thev lavished upon him only words of love and prayer and lolessing. The happy davs passed swiftly, and yet Si and Shorty grew impatient" to' return. It was with cheerful hearts that they said adieus and went whirhng away to the place of rendezvous. The men were prompt to report, and when the rer^iment was drawn up to take the train a distin- guished citizen, in behalf of admiring friends, presented to it a new stand of colors, with a burst of sanguinary elo- quence. Then, amidst the shouts of the multitude, the 200th Indiana started again for the field of glory. The soldiers knew, by long experience, just what they wanted and what they did not want. They had all im- proved the opportunity to fit themselves out v^nth small coffee-pots and frying-pans, and a few other articles of necessity and convenience; but all the ill-judged though kindly efforts of mothers and sisters and sweethearts to load them down as they did when they first went to the war, were mildly but firmly resisted . The most important investment made by Si and Shorty was in providing them- selves with Henry repeating rifles— sixteen-shooters— and a bountiful supply of ammunition. " I reck'n them '11 make the Johnnies feel tired/' re- marked Si. CHAPTER XLII. 'u WHICH THE Boys are Domiciled in "Pup" Tents— Some Curious Features of Army Life. 4 i C^ -^Y, Shorty, what kind o' contrivance is a shelter O tent?" This inquiry was occasioned by an order from the com- manding general, which had just been read to the 200th Indiana on dress-parade, to the eftectthat the army would move on the following day. A protracted campaign was expected, and all company baggage would be sent to the rear. Tents were included in the order, and everything else except what the men — and officers below the rank of colonel — could carry on their backs. Although the order did not say so in words, there was good reason to believe that the soldiers would bidalast farewell to their comfort- able canvas dwellings, for in their place shelter tents — whatever they were — would be issued immediately, and the army must strip itself down to the lightest marching order possible. Si never had heard of a shelter tent before, and he natu- rally wanted to know" what it was. Shorty was not able to throw any light on the subject, and further inquiry developed a dense and universal ignorance. In fact every- body in Company Q was trying as hard to find out as Si was. They asked the captain and he didn't know — at least hesaid he didn't, and as the officers were never known to tell fibs, what he said was probably true. 574 THE "SIBLEY TENT." 575 In 1861 most of the troops, on taking the field, were furnished with the "Sibley" tent. This was a spacious pavihon, large enough for a good-sized circus to show in. •When pitched it was a perfect cone in shape, the apex be- ing fully twelve feet from the ground. The foot of the center-pole rested upon an iron tripod, the limbs of which straddled out like those of a "daddy-longlegs," covering a great amount of territory. This tripod, with sprawling feet, seemed to have been invented expressly for the soldiers to stumble over w^hen moving about at night. It was admirably adapted to this purpose. The v/riter remembers a burly fellow of his mess coming in at midnight after a trick of duty. The tripod caught him on the shin and threw him heavily across the feet of three or four of his messmates. A stenographic report of the remarks that were made would not be good Sun- day reading. Leaping to his feet in a raging condition, the soldier sought to wreak his vengeance upon the tripod. Seizing one of the legs he gave it a tremendous "yank" \vhlch threw out the center-pole, and the tent came down flat upon the baker's dozen of prostrate forms. The pole in its promiscuous descent struck the head of one of the boys and raised a protuberance that lasted him a fortnight. There were three or four nationalities represented in the mesS; and for some minutes a spirited conversation was carried on in as many different languages. Nearly the whole company turned out to see what the riot was about. The captain came on the run, looking like a ghost in his white underclothing, evidently thinking an insurrection had broken out. At length, when their wrath had some- what abated, the boys fell to and put up the tent. To the credit of the shelter-tent may be placed the fact that after it was in use no catastrophe of this kind was possible. Five or six Sible}^ tents were supplied to a company, and the men were packed like sardines in a box, from fifteen to eighteen in each. At night they lay with their feet mixed 576 IT HAD TO GO. Up with those of the tripod around the center, while their bodies radiated outward to all points of the compass, like the spokes of a wagon wheel, their heads fringing the outer rim. Each man's knapsack marked the • particular section of ground that belonged to him. Before the messes began to be thinned out by the casualties of war, the men slept like a great circular row of spoons, and if one wanted to turn over to give the bones on the other side a chance, it was difficult to do so without creating a serious disturbance in the harmony of the formation. So he would yell out the order to "flop"' and all would go over together, reversing the spoon along the whole line. The Sibley tents were cumbrous things to handle, and enormously bulky. A regiment with sixty of them, and all other baggage in proportion, required a train of wagons sufficient to transport a menagerie. The lumbering ve- hicles, crammed to the top of the bows, with camp-kettles, knapsacks, and odds and ends of all kinds: hung on at every available point, made a picturesque and imposing parade as they filed out upon the road. But the Sibley tent had to "go." The armies grew rap- idly, and it became a grave question whether there were in the country enough mules available to haul Sibleys for a million men. The second year of the war the shrinkage began. In the writer's experience there was a disastrous collapse that was sudden and complete. Caught in a tight place, the tents and baggage of three or four brigades were burned that they might not fall into the hands of the enemy. The_y made a sjDlendid fire, but the hearts of the houseless tramps sank as thc}^ saw them disappear in that great holocaust. During the twelve weeks that followed, of al- most constant marching — amidst the chilling rains of fall and winter, often bivouacking in cultivated fields, with mud" over shoe-tops — those men did not once sleep under the friendly cover of a tent. To justify the writer in giving his own recollections of THE REDUCING PROCESS. 577 the Sibley tent, he puts in evidence the fact that Si Klegg did not shoulder a musket until after the reducing process was well advanced. The Sibley had wholly disappeared from the field, and was only used where troops were per- manently' stationed. A-fter the Sibley came the " A " or " Wedge ' ' tent— the shape of which is, perhaps, indicated clearly enough bj'its name— and the "Bell" tent, which was much like it, except that it swelled out at each end, increasing its capacity'. Five or six men could be comfortably domiciled in the A tent, and from eight to ten in the Bell. A year or so later the quartermaster gave the thumb -screw another turn and squeezed out the unique shelter tent, which \vas as near the point of none at all as it was possi- ble to reach. THE SHRINKAGE OF THE TENT. Early in the morning the members of the 200th Indiana re- ceived their shelter tents. To each man was given a piece of stout cotton cloth, about six feet long and four feet wide. Alono- one edg^e half of them had a row of buttons, and the other half had button-holes to correspond. It took two — One of each kind — to make a tent, in which two men were to live and move and have their being. In the scramble to get possession of the newest thing in war — this masterpiece of militar}^ invention — the halves were distributed in the most miscellaneous way, without 578 SHORTY SOLVES THli x^ROBLEM. any reference to the buttons and button-holes. It will be easily understood that it was indispensable for two men to "go snacks " on the tent business, and that "pards '' must have two pieces that would go together. Si and Shorty found themselves each with a section that was decorated with a row of buttons. They had not yet been enlightened as to the manner in which a beneficent government intended they should be used. "Well I'll be dog-goned, ef that thing don't git me!" exclaimed Si, after he had thoroughly inspected this work of genius, turning it over and around and eyeing it from every possible point of view, longitudinally, transversely and diagonally. "That's the queerest thing fer a tent I ever heern tell of. Got any idee how the old thing works, Shorty?" The latter had also been wrestling with the problem, and his mental processes seemed to have been rather more suc- cessful than those of his comrade. He told Si that he be- lieved he could see through the scheme. Inquiring around among the other members of Companj^ Q, all of whom were similarly engaged, he found that part of the pieces had holes where his own and Si's had buttons. Bringing his reasoning faculties into play he was not long in reach- ingf a satisfactorv conclusion. "I'll tell ye, Si," he said, "ourn don't fit 'cause they've got all buttons. That's what's the dif-/iz-culty. Part on 'em 's got button-holes, 'n' one onus '11 have ter trade with some feller that's got more holes 'n he knows what ter do with, 'n' then we'll see 'f we can't make 'em jine! " A little inquiry developed the same confusion on all sides. There was a general effort to secure a proper adjustment of the pieces, and exchanges were quickh' and cheerfulK'made. "Thar! " exclaimed Shorty, "you begin on that side 'n' let's button 'er up 'n' see what she looks like ! " In a minute their nimble fingers had connected the two pieces. THE "WHAT-IS-IT." 579 "Wall," said Si, "I don't see notliin' yet 't looks like a tent/' And his curious eye critically surveyed the cloth that lay spread out upon the ground. "Jest you wait a bit, 'n' I'll show ye a trick," said his comrade. "We'll try 'n' find out how she goes 'fore we start this mornin', so we'll know whether we're goin' ter have anything ter sleep under t'night. You hunt up a coujjle o' forked stakes 'bout 's high "s yer bread-basket, 'n' I'll squint 'round fer a ridge-pole." Si was not long in finding his part of the outfit, and Shorty soon appeared with a stick an inch in diameter and six or seven feet long. They forced the stakes a little way into the ground and put the ridge-pole in place. "Now stretch 'er over," said Shorty, "'n' we'll have a tent 'fore ye know it." Suiting the action to the word they threw the cloth across the pole and pulled it out each way at the bottom, fastening it to the ground by pegs driven through the loops of stout twine provided for that purpose. "Thar, what does that look like? " observed Shorty, as he cast an admiring glance upon the imposing structure. "Looks to me more like a chicken-coop er a dog-kennel 'n it does like a house fer two men ter live in," said Si. It could not be denied that there was force in Si's re- mark. It was three feet high to the ridge, and the "spread " at the bottom was about four feet. "Git down on yer marrow bones 'n' crawl in," said Shorty, himself setting the example. Thc}^ went in on their hands and knees and squatted upon the ground. Their heads rubbed against the sloping sides. "Beats all creation, don't it Shorty-? Ef we had the man here 't built that thing we'd toss him 'n a blanket t'll he couldn't tell which eend his head was on; 'n' then we'd set the fifes ter playin' the Rogue's March 'n' ride him out o' camp on a rail." This expression of opinion seemed to meet with uni- 580 THE NEW TEXT CHRISTENED. versal approval from the rest of the company, as they gathered around for the purpose of inspection. If the in ventor of the concern had made his appearance at that moment, had he succeeded in making his escape at all from the avenging fury of those exasperated Hoosiers, it would have been in a badly disabled condition. Taunts and scoff's and jeers, and words of harsher sound, were hurled at that poor little tent. It is safe to say that no new thing ever produced on this or an\^ other continent was greeted wnth such a torrent of ridicule and vituperation. Some of the boys crowed and clucked after the manner of fowls, while others whistled at ?' Si and Shorty as if ^J' to call out the dogs from their kennel. It was immediate- ly christened the " pup " tent, and till the end of the war it was known -;?=ir~^ only by that name, through all the armies, from the Potomac to the Rio Grande. Often the ridicule conveyed by this name was intensihed by putting in another letter and making it "purp." There were many names, words and phrases in the free- and-eas}'' language of the soldiers that were universal. It seemed as though some of them had their origin spon- taneouslv, and at the same time, in armies hundreds of miles apart ; or, starting at one point, thej^ were carried upon the Avinds to the remotest camps. Wherever the flag floated, the staff of army life was called "hardtack. " Its adjunct, bacon, was known by that name only on the req- THE pup' tent. THE ARMY " LINGO." 581 uisitions and books of the commissaries. An officer's siioulder-straps were "sardine-boxes "' and his sword was a '" toad-stabber " or "cheese-knife." Abrigade commander was a "jigadier-brindle ; " camp rumors were "grape- vines;" marching was "hoofing it;"' troops jDcrmanently stationed in the rear were known as "feather-bed soldiers;'* and raw recruits were "fresh-fish.'" Among scores of ex- pressions, many of them devoid of sense or meaning except as they were used by the soldiers, were "Grab a root;" "Hain't gotthesand;" " Git thar', Eli;" "Here's yer mule;" "Same old rijiment only we've drawed new clothes ;" "Go for 'em;" "Hunt ^-er holes;" " Bully fer 3'ou." The word "bully" — more expressive than elegant — entered largely in- to the army vernacular; it seemed to "fit" almost an^'- where. Since the war there have been a score of widely different explanations of the origin of "Grab a root!" It was heard in every regiment, and its application was \videl3i diversified. If a comrade on foot made a mis-step, or an accident of any kind befell one who was mounted, a hun- dred men would yell "Grab a root!" The bo^^s usually took great satisfaction in shouting it in the ears of a gay and dashing staff officer, who might be galloping along the flank of a moving column, or between the blue lines on either side of the road during a "rest." If he chanced to be an unskillful rider, and bumped about in his saddle, he was vociferously exhorted to "grab a root." The theory of the yelling soldiers seemed to be that if he would do this he might be able to save himself from tumbling off his horse. The helpless offi.cer usually looked as if he would like to "grab" a whole armful of good-sized "roots" and fling them at the heads of his tormentors. The boys did not often try it on a general — unless it was night, and pretty dark. The soldiers of the ^OOth Indiana loaded upon the wagons the tents that had so long sheltered them, and 582 SI DISCARDS THE KNAPSACK, they never saw them again. The order said they would be sent to the rear "for the present, '' but the boys learned in course of time just what that meant. Henceforward the "puj]"" tent was to be their onl}^ protection from sun and storm. When the call was sounded for the regiment to fall in and take the road, Si and Shorty found that it did not require more than two minutes to "strike" their little tent, detach the halves, and roll them up read}^ for transporta- tion. Each half weighed scarcely more than two pounds and its addition to the soldier's load was bareh^ appre- ciable. By this time Si had reached that stage in his army career when he could wholly dispense with a knapsack. Shorty had parted company with his some time before, and Si had been thinking for a good while about cutting loose from this incumbrance. All the sentimental notions, of which his head was so full when he started out, had en- tirely vanished. With them had disappeared the last vestige of everything that was not a necessity, save only Annabel's well-worn locket — which had a permanent rest- ing place near the spot where he imagined his heart to be located — and two or three trifling keepsakes that bestowed away in the pockets of his blouse and trousers. His knap- sack was about worn out, anyway, and he concluded it was not worth while to draw another. His "dress coat," in which he used to feel so grand at Sunday morning in- spection and evening parade, had long since gone to join "the innumerable caravan" of things which, at first con- sidered indispensable, came to be only a useless burden. In fact he did not have anything to carrj^ in his knapsack worth speaking of Sometimes he had an extra shirt or pair of drawers and sometimes he didn't. He was equally well and comfortable and happ}^ whether he had or had not a reserve supply of these articles. When he had no clothes except those he wore, he found abundant compen- AND IS A VETERAN INDEED. 583 sation for his poverty in the fact that his load was so much the lighter. When his shirt gave abundant evidence that its da3's of usefulness were past he would draw a new one, put it on, and throw the old one away. In short, Si had now "learned his trade." Some had proved more apt pupils than he, for he had been loth to cast awa\' his cherished idols •; but at last he had mastered his lesson. Little by little he had found that there was a great deal besides knowing how to load a gun and push a bayonet that was necessary to make a toughened and thoroughly efficient soldier — one who could be depended upon not only to charge up to the mouths of blazing can- non, but to march twentj'-five miles a day and do picket duty at night, on half rations, in all kinds of weather, for weeks at a stretch. Such men there were, b}- tens of thousands, whom nothing but the deadl}- missiles of war could kill. So when Si, that morning, rolled up his overcoat and half of a pup tent inside his blanket, tied the ends together, threw it over his shoulder, and marched off at a swing^insf gait, he was justly entitled to be classed as a veteran — a soldier, in the fullest significance of the word. He was one of the happy-go-lucky sort, who took things as they came and never had "the blues." To him the rain did not seem so wet, nor the sun so hot, nor the "tack'' so hard, nor the miles so long, nor his "traps" so much as if thev weighed a hundred ounces to the pound, as thej'^ did to those less buoyant and elastic in spirit than he. Blister^ came less often than formerU^ upon his now calloused feet, w^hen they did, he would tramp along just the same. He had "got used to it." "They're gittin' things down ter a purt}^ fine pint, ain't they, Shorty,'' he said, as he trudged along, "makin' us lug our houses on our backs, 'sides the muskits 'n' am'ni- tion 'n' groceries 'n' bed'n. I don't see 's they c'n crowd us any furder 'nless they makes us tote the ossifers' duds. i84 WHAT NEXT? Mebbe they'll pile onto us the hay 'n' corn ter feed the hosses. It's bin gittin' wuss 'n' wuss ever since we fust started out, but I can't 'niagine what it '11 be next. P'r'aps arter we've marched the mules to death they'll hitch us ter the waggins. I reck'n that wouldn't be much wuss 'n some things we have had ter do. D'ye s'pose ye'd ha' 'listed, Shorty, ef ye'd ha' knowed all 't ye had to go through?" "Would jow, Si?" "I — b'lleve — I- would," he replied, speaking slowly and thoughtfully. "I know I would," he added, "but mebbe I wouldn't ha' been quite so fierce 's I was fer gittin' in. I didn't s'pose ther' was very much reel solid fun 'n goin' to war, 'n' I hain't found no rea- ^^' son yet ter change my notion. Ther'isalee- tle bit, now 'n' then, 'n' ye know I've alius tried ter git all ther' was goin'. But ye didn't answer my SI AS A VETERAN. qucstlon yct." "Oh, 'twouldn't ha' mattered much ter me," replied Shorty. *'I 'low 't I Avent in with my eyes opened wider 'n yourn was. Ye know I'd had a tetchon it in the three months' sarvice, though that wa'n't a patchin' ter what I've struck since I j'ined this 'ere rijiment. I 'xpected hard knocks 'n' I've got 'em, so I ain't noways dis'p'inted. But I tell ye what 'tis. Si, I b'lieve there's more 'n one man dead that 'd bin livi i' A CAMP OF "pup" tents. 585 yet if he'd had sich a feller 's you be fer a pard. It makes a heap more diff 'runce 'n ye think whether a man 's down in the mouth all the time er not. Ye've been wuth more ter me 'n forty-'leven doctors. I hain't never tuk no medicine 'cept when I was playin'ofif, 'n' I don't 'ntend ter'f I c'n help it." Everyday were more firmly cemented the ties that bound together Si and Shorty. Each knew the other s true, irianly worth, and the hardships and dangers shared and the suf- ferings endured had so united them that in their thoughts and feelings, their devotion to duty and toeach other, their hearts were as one. They were friends of the kind that "sticketh closer than a brother," and would have faced for each other any peril, however great. As the army halted, toward evening, the great bivouac presented a scene of unwonted activit3\ There was a gen- eral rush to put up the new tents. The adjacent woods literally swarmed with men in quest of forked sticks and poles, the demand for which quite exhausted the supply. Then in a few minutes, as if b\^ magic, the little patches of white cloth dotted field and hillside, far and near. For fifty thousand men there were twenty-five thousand of them. It was almost as if an untimely snow-storm had whitened the earth. With a mixture of mirth and profanity, the men crept into and took possession of their novel quarters. An army on its knees \vould have been, under certain condi- tions, a most gratif\'ing spectacle to the chaplains, but it is to be feared that the universal posture at this time afforded them little spiritual encouragement. The lan- guage generalh" used did not indicate that the army was engaged in evening devotions. The men scrambled around and "made down " the beds. Such as could get an armful of straw counted themselves fortunate, while others made mattresses of boughs or bushes. After supper they stretched out their weary limbs to rest. They made the night hideous with their yells and cat-calls 586 MAKING IT WARM FOR THE OFFICERS. and barkiiin^s, as if thev iraa£fined themselves transformed into the various species of domestic animals that might be supposed to inhabit such dwellings. They made the quartermaster, who supplied them with the pup-tents, wish that he had never been born. The commanding general, who issued the order for the c|uartermaster to do it, came in for his full share of attention. Occasions were not infrequent when whole regiments and brigades, utterU^ disregarding the sanctity- of rank, filled the air with A-ells and shouts and gibes aimed directly at certain officers, often in high command, on ac- count of some order or action that was distasteful to the men. Dark nights were usually taken advantage of for such performances, when it was impossible to identify in- dividual offenders. If an officertried to "catch" anybodv at it, he fottnd himself attempting the biggest job of his life. Hearing the derisive shouts in a company' on one flank of the regriment, he would hasten thither onlv to find the men snoring as if asleep. Then there would be an out- break on the other flank and away he would go in that direction, \vith no better success than before. As a rule, officers paid little attention to this badinage, as long as it was harmless, permitting the bo^'s to have their fun. They knew that it meant nothing, and that those who yelled the loudest and said the most irreverent things, would, on the morrow, at their command, leap into the very jaws of death. None knew as well as the o-enerals how much the efficiencv of an army was enhanced bv keeping the soldiers in good spirits. Sometimes the shafts of ridicule \vere so keenly pointed and fired with such unerring and persistent aim, that their stings became unendurable, and the goaded officers would charge around in a furious rage, threatening the of- fenders with the most awful and tremendous punishments. Usually the bo^'S made life a burden to such an officer to the end of the war, if he remained in the service so long-. ROUGH ON SHOULDER-STRAPS. 587 Here and there was a "West Pointer," whose punctilious ideas of the respect due to epaulettes and gold-lace would not permit him under any circumstances to "take a joke" that came from the rank and file. If he chanced to be the beneficiary of the vocal "shivaree" (as they call it in the west) — and he was quite as likely as any one to be the target of the wild volunteers — a storm was pretty cer- tain to follow. That officer was fortunate who could act the part of wisdom, and laugh with the rest at the rude and noisy jests of the soldiers, as they rolled about in their pup tents or stumbled along through the tedious hours of a night march, even though their words might cut to the quick. The only stlre and speedy way to put an end to the "racket" was to pay no attention to it. If the men found that an officer was " bored " he was likely to be assailed again and again, with redoubled vigor. A ver^' common and effective method that was popular among the troops — probably less so among the helpless victims — was for a stout-lunged soldier to shout at the top of his voice a question touching upon some foible or peccadillo of an officer. Another stentorian patriot, perhaps at some distant point in the regiment, would answer by yelling out the name of the officer in a tone that could be heard half a mile. This colloquial exercise was not unlike that carried on between the "interlocutor" and "end-men" of a minstrel troupe. Those among the officers who could conceal from the boys their weak spots — for all were human, and many ver}' much so — were smarter men than the average. All these things were carefully treasured u[) ni the memories of the soldiers, and every nov/ and then, when the conditions were favorable, and the boys were in the right humor, there came a "snap " of very cold weather for those unlucky officers. On the night in question the soldiers of the 200th In- diana, after they had exhausted their rage and wit upon 588 CATECHISMAL TORTURE. the pup-tent and the hapless quartermaster, took up the catechism, in the manner described. ''Who stole the ham?" shouted an anxious inquirer. "Captain Smith!" was the answer, loud and clear. "Who got behind a tree at Stone River?" — from another voice. "Z/ei-tenant Brown!" "Who gobbled the lone w^idow's chickens?'* * * Capting-g-g Jones ! ' ' "Who drank too much applejack?" "Major Robinson !" "Who got sick at Mission Ridge?" "Lieutenant Johnsing!" ' "Who tried to run the guards and got nabbed?" "Colonel Williams!" "Who stole the black bottle from the sutler?" "Lieutenant Duzenberry!" "Who played off to ride in the ambulance?" "Captain Smart!" "Say boys, ther' won't be no fightin' tomorrow." "Why?" " 'Cause Capt'n Dodgit 's up with the ridgment." So it went, until the entire list had been exhausted, for -;here were few officers concerning whom something had not been put in pickle for such occasions. A few impetuous victims made matters infinitely worse by prancing around in a high state of excitement, threatening their relentless tormentors with sword and pistol ; but they did not shoot or "prod" anybody — the boys knew they wouldn't — and their impotent wrath expended itself in vain ; the odds against them were too great. The sound of the "taps," that always brought quiet to the camp, came like a balm to their wounded spirits. Such was the advent of the pup-tent in the 200th Indiana — and in hundreds of other regiments. It marked a new epoch in the increasingly actire campaigns of the great NOT SO BAD AS IT SEEMED. 589 armies. These were now mobilized to a degree that had at no previous time been reached, being ahnost\vh oily freed from the enormous quantities of baggage that in the earlier years of the \var incumbered their movements with immense trains. Wagons were scarcely needed except for trans- porting supplies of food, clothing, ammunition and hospital stores. As for the soldiers, their aversion to the shelter tent soon disappeared. Before many months ekipsed they had come to regard it as an unmixed blessing. Under the former regime, when the army was in motion the wagons were often in the rear for days and weeks together, and the soldiers were compelled to brave the weather, wholly un- protected, save by such imperfect shelters as could be im- provised. The despised and much-reviled pup-tent proved to be the one thing needful. What a man carried on his back he was always sure of, and this was the only kind of transportation that he could depend uj)on. After the soldiers began to take more kindly to their new quarters, straitened though they were, they would as soon have thought of campaigning without their blankets as without their pup tents. They came to be exceedingly dex- terous in pitching them. A few minutes only was required, whenever and wherever the arm}' stopped. If no woods were at hand to supply the convenient forked sticks, rails and boards were split, or pieces of cracker boxes pressed into the service — anything with a small notch cut in one end in wdiich the ridge-pole could rest would answer the purpose. If other sources of supply failed the soldier could always fall back on his musket. Two "pards" would "fix ''their ba^'onets and thrust them into the ground, one at each end of the tent, catch the edges of the cloth be- tween the nipples and the hammers of the inverted guns, and the dwelling was ready for occupancy. In such a case no ridge-pole was necessary. At the signal to strike tents 590 A GOOD THING, AFTER ALL. they wotild disaiDpear almost in an instant, as if the camp were swept by a tornado. Under ordinary conditions of weather they furnished comfortable shelter. True, a hard rain would beat through them, and trickle in baptismal streams over the inmates; a furious wind would sometimes play sad havoc with the fragile structures, tearing them from their fastenings and sending them flj'ing through the air in wild confusion. A visitation of this kind at night, \vith the accompaniment of a copious rain, was somewhat calamitous in its effects upon both the comfort and the tempers of those so rudely unhoused ; but it was only an incident in the soldier's hfe that passed away with the morrow's sunshine. One edition of the pup tent was provided with a three- cornered piece of cloth, which, after the tent was pitched, was quickly joined on with buttons and entirely closed one end, contributing much to the well-being of the dwellers within. In many of those issued to the troops this con- venient part was wanting, and the lack w^as supplied, as far as possible, b}^ a rubber blanket, or a chance piece of cloth picked up with this end — that is, the end of the pup- tent — in view. Sometimes a night raid among the mule- drivers would yield a very serviceable fragment ruthlesslv cut from a wagon-cover. Next to the hardtack and the "grayback," no feature of army life will dwell longer or more vividly in the mem- cries of the veterans of the war than the Pup Tent. CHAPTER XLIII. Si Enters Upon the Last Great Campaign which Ends the War. THE campaign of 1864 was unlike any that preceded it. Up to that time the grand divisions of the Union army had moved spasmodically, and without concert of action, each plunging forward with music and banners, and then rushing back again, as the enemy, on his shorter interior lines, concentrated his forces at the point assailed. This policy seemed likely, as shown by the experience of three years, to prolong the struggle indefinitely. Now and then a town of little or no importance to either side was wrested from the enemy and its capture was an- nounced by the newspapers in hj^sterical head -lines. When the people at the North read that Culpeper Court-house, or Corinth, or Little Rock had been taken, perhaps with- out anybody being hurt, they fondly believed that the Gibraltar of the South had fallen, the back-bone of the rebellion was at last broken, and nothing now remained to be done but to appoint a receiver to wind up the affairs of the so-called Southern Confederacy. So they shouted themselves hoarse and made congratulatory speeches, amidst the blare of bands, the ringing of bells, and the combustion of powder. But the rebel armies generally got away when they wanted to, and turned up at unex- pected times and places, as pugnacious as ever. At length a great light dawned upon those in authority. The important discovery was made that marching triumph- antly into decayed and deserted towns, and impressively 5S1 592 THEN CAME THE "TUG OF WAR." planting the stars and stripes on empty court-houses, would never end the war, so long as the military power of the enemy remained unbroken. By this time "the way- faring man though a fool" could comprehend the truth that the rebellion was not to be crushed by sounding official proclamations, nor by fervid rhetorical emanations from the brains of valorous "On-to-RIchmond " editors. It could only be accomplished by the persistent use of powder and lead, and an occasional prod with the bayo- net. Without taking issue upon the pleasing and poetic proposition that "the pen is mightier than the sword," it may confidently be asserted that for the job in question the musket outranked the pen as much as a resplendent major-general did a high private in the rear rank. So it was that in 1864 came the long, persistent "tug" of the ^var. East and west the Union forces moved simul- taneously, with unity of purpose and action — fighting the rebel armies whenever and wherever they could be found. There was to be no more "sparring for wind," but a mighty clinch and a "rough-and-tumble" for the mastery. The fiction of superior valor or military prowess on either side had been exploded. At the worst it was believed that the rebels could be beaten in theend, dearly-bought though the victory might be, by the same process that is some- times employed in playing at "checkers." Having secured a slight numerical advantage over his adversary the player deliberately proceeds to "man him down," giving a life for each one he takes, and thus vanquishes him at last. This is the game that was played during the last and bloodiest year of the war, and it succeeded. More men were killed and wounded by lead and iron in the des- perate grapple from April, 1864, to April, 1865, than during the previous three years. Better so, with all the sickening scenes of carnage, than to have had the strug- gle prolonged and thrice the number borne to their graves from a hundred hospitals and prisons during the NEVER GRANDER HEROISM. 593 slowly-dragging 3'ears. The price paid was a high one, but the economy of the purchase cannot be questioned. The rank and file of the Union armies cheerful!}^ accepted the new order of things. In fact, the idea that this was the way to put down the rebellion took possession of the minds of the soldiers long before it reached headquarters. Braveh% patiently and without complaint they faced the "enemy's guns day after da}', through weeks and months, and willingly made the awful sacrifice that was demanded. Surely no less can be said of the men of the Confederate armies, in their gallant and yet hopeless struggle. The pages of history bear no record of grander heroism and fortitude than were shown by American soldiers. North ind South, during the last year of our civil war. "Looks ter me, Shorty," said Si, the first night of the great campaign, "the way we're startin' out this time, 's though we wa'n't goin' ter fool with the rebils no longer. \Yhen we only whip 'em once 'n a while they don't stay whipped wuth a continental. We've got ter jest keep lickin' on 'em — git 'em on the run 'n' make 'em go t'll they're tired. I hain't got no military' eddication, but I b'lieve ther' ain't no other way ter squush this rebellion. Ef the gin'rals had axed me I'd ha' told 'em so long ago. Course I don't know what the\^'re goin' ter do, but I've got 'n idee the\''ll keep us a-humpin' fer a while." "Does seem kind o' that way, "replied Shorty. "I figger it out 't ther's got ter be bout so much shootin' 'n' bein' shot ter do the business, 'n' it'll be a heap better ter keep peckin' away 'thout givin" 'em no chance ter rest t'll we wind the thing up. One o' the bo3^s was sayin' 't he seed a noosepaper today 't told how all the armies was gittin' read}' ter move, 'n' I reck'n they're goin' ter shake up the Johnnies purt}' liveh'. I've got the same notion 't 3'ou have. Si, 'n' ef I kin see through a ladder we'll have livelier music 'n' more on it 'n we've heerd afore." Being unanimous in their verdict upon the outlook for 594. THEY FOUND THE ENEMY, tlie immediate futtire, there was no chance for argument; so they crawled into their dog-tent and went to sleep. Two hours before daylight they w^ere aroused to stand at arms until dawn. For months this enforced habit of rising at an exasperating hour ^vas continued. So far as the soldiers w^ere concerned, Ben Franklin's proverb was without force, as "early to rise" made them neither "healthy," "wealthy" — at thirteen dollars a month — nor "wise." The enemy was within easy reach, and there was no trouble in finding ».»^v^^^-<^ ^^,-^-,^ ,^ him that day. He was full of fight and stubbornly re- sisted the advance. Then was begun the bloody strug- gle that, through w^eary weeks and months, put to the severest test that mind can conceive the valor and en- durance of the w^ell-tried soldiers of both armies. Skirmishing was incessant, and bri- gades, divisions and corps often met in the dreadful shock of battle. The whiz of bullet and scream of shell became so familiar to the ear that they were almost robbed of their terrors. So long as a soldier was not hit he resfarded with a stoical indifference to self the work of death that was constantly going on around him. The senses became calloused. The killing and mangling of fellow-beings was the every-day vocation. Men engaged NOT TO BE CAUGHT NAPPING. "WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK." 595 In it with no more compunction than if they were hunting game. The finer feehngs were seared and deadened by the fiery breath of war. Day after day the soldiers marched and dug rifle-pits and built long, tortuous lines of intrenchments, under the fierce midsummer sun — today charging the enemy in open field, and tomorrow by a flank movement forcing him to abandon his chosen position. The}' lay behind works, looking into the very muzzles of hostile muskets and cannon. At times the lines were so near together that there was no room for pickets. Whole brigades glared upon one another with sleepless e\'es, b\' da\' and by night. If a head or body were exposed, though but for an instant, on either side, a hundred rifles cracked and a hundred bullets sped on their errand. Every hour death reaped its fearful harvest. Men were buried beside the trenches in which they fell. Surgeons lay behind the breastworks to care for the wounded, who could only be borne to the rear under cover of the darkness. Officers and soldiers slept in their clothes, with swords and muskets in their hands. Rarely a night passed with- out an alarm. An exchange of shots on the picket-line alwa^'s awoke the soundest sleeper, and in half a minute he was standing in his place at the works. Often the men lay down in two long lines and had but to spring up to be in order of battle. At crack of musket and whistle of bul- let, ten thousand — twenty thousand — fifty thousand sol- diers rose as if by magic, grasping their trusty weapons. It was no uncommon thing for this to occur twice or thrice in a night. At no time, sleeping or waking, was a soldier where he could not seize his musket and be ready r'li an instant for any duty. Even the privates became skilled in the arts of war. The general movements were directed by those in command, but so far as the details were concerned the soldiers knew as well as the officers what to do and how to do it. Thev 596 THE SHOVEL NO LONGER DESPISED. no longer deemed it a mark of cowardice to take advan- tage of anv cover that opportunity offered. On the con- trarj^ the man who did not do this was set down as a fool. Skirmishers dodged from tree to tree, now crouch- ing behind a stump or log for a shot and then dashing ahead; now creeping along a fence or wall and then taking the double-quick across a field or "open" — in every possible way shielding themselves from the fire of the enemj', but always pushing forward and shrinking from no necessary danger. Whenever pickets were stationed there was not a mo- ment of rest until a little fortification had been thrown up at each post that would stop musket balls. Rails, logs, stones, were hastily piled, and with bayonets, tin-cups and plates, or anything that would scratch up the ground, holes were dug and the dirt was used to strengthen the work. Back at the main line all hands were busy, eacfi regiment covering its front with a strong intrenchment. Assaults were made by the enemy with scarcely a mo- ment's warning, and the men toiled w^ith their guns slung over their shoulders. Often when the work of intrenching was but half done the sharp crack of muskets, the zip and patter of bullets and the wnld rebel yell sent the soldiers scampering into line to meet the onset. After repulsing the enemy a counter-charge was likeh^ to follow, and the instant a halt was ordered the men fell to and in an in- credibly brief time would have another long line of works, behind which they eagerly watched for the foe. A few axes, picks and shovels were carried by each regiment, and for hasty intrenching were invaluable. During the early years of the war these menial implements had been re- o-arded with ineffable scorn and contempt. In 1864 a shovel was as indispensable as a coffee-pot. Frequently, as the troops changed their positions, two or three heavy liaes of works, miles in length, were thrown up in a day. vv eariness and hunger were not thought of ur^til the forti- THE OIJESTION OF SUPPLIES. ;97 fving was done. Then, with their muskets in hand or slung upon their backs, the soldiers would quickl}' start their little fires for making coffee and toasting bacon. The supply of rations during such a campaign was somewhat precarious. To feed an arm\' of a hundred thousand men and thirty thousand animals, and keep it in ammunition and other things needful, required at least one hundred and thirty car loads, of ten tons each, per day.* These had to be transported a long distance over a single line of railroad every mile of which must be guarded. It was the constant effort — often successful — of the enem^-'s cavalry to "cut the cracker-line," by making wide detours around the Union army and by sudden dashes tearing up the railroad, burning bridges and blow- ing up culverts. These interruptions occasionally made it necessary for the soldiers to be put on half rations. In that wonderful army were multitudes representing all the learned professions and mechanical trades. Men carried swords and muskets who could preach a sermon, argue a case at law, amputate a leg or edit a news- paper. There were soldiers who could build a bridge, put up and operate a telegraph line, or make anything, from a watch to a locomotive. To provide for contingen- cies a corps of engineers ' and mechanics was organized, whose special duty it was to repair the ravages of the Confederate raiders and keep intact the slender thread of communication between the great army in the field and its remote base of supplies. So prompth' and efiiciently was this important service performed that when a short- age in the supply of hardtack and bacon told the army that there was another break, it was rarely more than two or three days till the whistle of the locomotive, as it went puffing up to the front, set the soldiers to yelling like lunatics. • Sherman's Memoirs, Vol. II. p. 11. '598 NO MORE ''ALL QUIET " SEASONS. Tliis was the way the soldiers lived and marched and fought during that bloody year, that illledso man^'^ graves, but conquered the rebellion. It was not, as before, an oc- casional battle, \vith long intervals of "all quiet on the Potomac,''' the Tennessee and the Mississippi — when the soldiers spent their time in lying idly under the trees or building forts and breastworks far in the rear — when if the hostile armies moved at all it was in the effort to keep out of each other's way and avoid a collision. It was a continuous fight, month after month. No man, on open- ing his eyes in the morning, was secure in the belief that before night he would not be dead and buried, or a subject for the knife and saw of the surgeon. Not an hour — a mo- ment — of life was assured. The impressive truth that "In the midst of life we are in death " has no such meaning to those dwelling under peaceful skies as it had to the brave, patient thousands who spent the long days and nights on i:he outposts and in the trenches, amidst blazing muskets and belching cannon. It was upon this life that Si entered that pleasant May morning. Company Q of the 200th Indiana was on the skirmish-line and had not advanced far till it found enough in front to engage its undivided attention. The rebel pickets, as if they realized the "aggressive spirit that was henceforth to animate the opposing army and were deter- mined to follow suit, stubbornly contested the advance and yielded nothing except on compulsion. But the day had gone by when a spasmodic fusillade on the skirmish- line would cause the Union army to halt, establish and for- tify its position, and wait to be attacked. "Go right for 'em, boys ! " was the word passed along the line, and they went. "This is business!" said Si to Shorty, as they darted from one tree to another, stopping for a moment Lo fire Avhenever they could see a "butternut " to shoot at. " We "GOING FOR 'em. 599 ain't goin' ter have no more nonsense with them fellers. We're jest goin' in ter win now." Behind the skirmishers marched the compact battalions, with steady step and the touch of elbows that always gave the soldier confidence. Each man knew that hecould trust his comrades, upon the right and upon the left. They had long marched and fought side by side. The leaders of that army needed no assurance that those well-seasoned regiments and brigades and divisions would be equal to ON THE SKIRMISH LINE. every demand that might be made upon them. It took three years to create such an army, but when that veteran host moved forward, with perfect mutual confidence be- tween the soldiers and their commanders, it was invincible. During its march the army reached a river, broad and deep. All bridges over it had been destroyed by the re- treating enemy. Two years earlier the army would have halted for a week while the means for crossing were being provided. Now it was not so. "How we goin' ter git any furder?" exclaims Si, as he 600 "PONTONIERS TO THE FRONT ! '* and Shorty arrive at the bank and drop behind a log to escape the bullets that come singing over. "I'm 'feard we wouldn't make much headway swimmin' 'th all these traps on. Looks 's though we'd have ter knock off fer toda3\" "Wait a little while 'n' see," replies Shorty. "There's more 'n one way ter skin a cat." One of the generals, accompanied by a staff officer or two, rides up. When within range of the hostile muskets he dismounts and gliding from one tree to another ad- vances to the stream. " The gin'rals dodges same 'swe do, don't they, Short}^? " says Si. "Course they does. They can't help it no more 'n you 'n' me kin. It's the sensiblest thing a feller kin do some- times.' A single glance tells the officer what is to be done, and he scurries back to the rear. When it is necessary he \vill face without flinching a sheet of flame, though he fall be- fore it, but now he does well to avoid the flying bullets. "Pontoniers to the front ! " Away gallops one of the staff to bring up the train of v^agons bearing the pontons — or pontoons as they were universally called. The "pongtong" of the Frenchman was not suited to the vocal organs of the American soldier. The enemy on the farther bank shows his teeth and is making ominous preparations to dispute the passage of the river. On this side batteries are ordered into position to cover the laying of the bridge. A brigade is advanced to the river, where the men quickh^ throw up a barricade of logs, rails and earth. There is brisk firing from both sides. Neither force can advance upon the other, and it is simply a question which has the greater "nerve" and steadiness to endure the fire of its adversary. Meantime a thousand men with axes are clearing a road to the point chosen as the most favorable for the bridge. 52UICK, SHARP WORK. 601 With a celerity little less than marvelous they fell trees, roll away logs, and open a pathway. Here comes the pontoon train, and the soldiers set up a mighty shout as the reeking mules plunge forward under stinging lash and maddening yell. With them come the pontoniers, at a double-quick, responding lustily to the vociferous greet- ings of their comrades. Here and there a mule falls, struck by a bullet that comes flying over, but ready knives slash the harness and cut him loose, and the rest dash furiously on. Now batteries open and muskets blaze along both the river banks. The pontoniers stack arms and strip off their accouterments that they may v^ork without incumbrance. They cannot stop to use their muskets and must go through the ordeal of being under fire without being able to return it. There is no more trying position in which soldiers can be placed. They must work rapidly, for every moment brings sacrifice of life and limb. The covering force re- doubles its fire as the pontoniers spring to the pontoons and lift them from the wheels. The boats — frames of wood covered with heavy oiled canvas — are borne to the brink of the stream. One by one they are launched and floated to their positions. The connecting timbers are speedily put in — for every stick has been fitted to its place. A hun- dred men complete the work, as each successive boat is secured, by laying the planking of the roadwa}^, soon to resound with the tread of those eager battalions. Long ropes, stretched diagonally to the shore above, prevent the bridge from being carried down by the current. All this time cannon are hurling shot, shell and canister, and the air seems filled with hissing bullets. Much of the enemy's fire is directed at the pontoniers. Man}' of these are stricken down and lie helpless in the boats, or fall into the water and are borne away by the tide. Some are dead when they fall; others, disabled by cruel wounds, perish in the stream. But war and death are inseparable. >02 A RUSH FOR THE OTHER SIDE. The work must not stop for an instant, and for every brave pontonier that falls a score of willing volunteers are ready to seize the plank or the oar that has dropj)ed from his grasp. Imagination cannot picture a scene of wilder uproar and confusion. The noise of artillery and musketry is inces- sant, to which are added the yells of the excited men, for it is not easy to "keep cool" with such surroundings. Offi- cers shout their orders in vain; no words can be heard in the awful din. But it matters little, for those trained sol- LAYING A PONTOON BRIDGE UNDER FIRE. diers not only know what to do but they have the mag- nificent heroism to do it, and amidst the roar and crash, the wild shout and the scream of pain, the work goes steadily and surely on. Down on the fast-lengthening bridge are Si and Shorty, working with might and main, unmindful of the bullets that patter around them and bury themselves in the planks they carry. They are among those who so /promptly volunteered to fill the places made vacant, and none are more active and efficient than the}'. It is a new ALWAYS FORWARD. 603 Sphere of labor and a new test of courage, but there is not a thought of quaihng. Now the bridge stretches almost to the farther shore, and the water is but hip deep. "Fall in 200th Indiana! Forward — Double-quick — March!" The brave colonel dashes ahead and the men follow with a yell. Their swift feet clatter upon the planks and the floating bridge sways and throbs under their tread. Fast and furious is the fire of the Union batteries to cover the perilous passage. Unmindful of the bullets that are thin- ning the ranks the men push on, leap into the water and scramble up the bank. No human power can stay their progress. They throw themselves upon the enemy and break his line. Another regiment has followed, and another. To right and left they charge the hostile force, which yields before the onslaught and flees in disma3% The crossing is secured. The bridge is quickly finished, and for hours it quivers beneath the marching feet of end- less brigades and divisions, and the. rumbling wheels of artillery and wagons freighted with material to supj^lj' all the enginery' of war. Thus the barrier was passed, and the e^'cs of the enemy were opened to the spirit that animated and nerved the Union army during that final struggle — a spirit that found true expression in those historic words of the great Cap- tain, A^^hich were an inspiration to the soldiers and to the patient, praying millions at home : "I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer." Da}^ after day the campaign went on. Week after week the soldiers marched with their faces to the foe, or stood in the trenches with loaded muskets. Behind the fortified lines they dug "gopher-holes" in which thc}^ slept, to avoid the plunging shot from the enemy's cannon. Time and again they flanked him out of his chosen positions in the mountain fastnesses, and forced him across deep and C04 " ATTENTION i ' rapid rivers. When a halted column was called to " atten- tion" the men sprang to their places, singing to the strains of the bugle: ^j, Every hour the p ^ ^^ work of death was going on at some point in the long and E= ^ ^-^ zj^gz^EE^^ — ^ i3^33 Sinuous line. Kail-^ — -" — -~^ ■ I know you are ti-red but still you must go; -^-—m^S Down to At-lan - ta to see the big show. "attention! " way trains Avhich brought supplies for the army returned freighted with the dead and the dying, and with prisoners taken from the enemy. On and still on pressed the resolute army ; patiently and cheer- fully the soldiers discharged every duty and faced every danger. The enemy, maddened and desperate, vainly sought to stay the advance of the victorious legions. Brigades and divisions defiantly hurled themselves against the Union intrenchments, and pounced with the utmost fury upon marching columns. The long track of the armies was one great bc.ttle-field. Everywhere the trees were scarred and riven by the missiles from musket and cannon, and the reddened earth became a place of burial for brave men. CHAPTER XLIV. An Unexpected Calamity Befalls Corporal Klegg and his Comrade. TT was a hot midsummer day. The 200th Indiana wag 1^ in the front line and Company Q was on picket. Si and Shorty lay in a rifle-pit which they had dug where mey were stationed, the night before. Under cover of the BEHIND FORT KLEGG. 605 darkness thej had strongly intrenched themselves, crown- ing the work with a small "head-log." It took them till midnight to finish it, but they were amply repaid for their labor in knowing that they were well fixed for the next day, provided the army did not advance. With the confi- dence inspired by their repeating rifles, they knew that no mere skirmish-line of the enemy could drive them from their position. Shorty named it "Fort Klegg.'' During the rest of the night they kept vigil, wath eyes and ears, their trusty rifles in hand for instant use. Now and then one of them slept for a few minutes, but was quick to spring at the lightest touch of his watchful comrade. In all that long line of videttes, miles in extent, no eves were more keenly alert than those which peered over the para- pet of Fort Klegg. Daylight came, and the crickets chirruped in the grass and the birds twittered and sang in the trees. The thirsty rays of the morning sun drank up the dew that sparkled for a moment and then was gone. The muskets along the hostile lines were silent. The discordant sounds of war were hushed in the strange, oppressive quiet that often preceded the bursting storm. The army did not move, and the pickets were cautioned to the utmost watchfulness. It was deemed probable that the enemy would attack, for his position was so menaced that he must either fight or abandon it. Si and Shorty, in turn, ate their breakfast of hardtack and raw bacon, washing it down with the tasteless water that had been in their canteens since the previous day ; for no fires could be lighted on the outposts. An hour passed —and another— and another. Still they kept their e\'es to the front, watching for the first sign of the expected at- tack. The sun climbed toward the zenith and beat down with scorching fierceness. •*I b'lie\e I'm beginnin'terfr^^ !"said Si, as he layswelter ing in the hot, dry air, with the perspiration flowing in 606 SIGHTING THE ENEMY. rivulets from every part of his body. " I kin jest hear the grease a-sizzlin' out o' me. I reck'n it's a good thing fer me 't I ain't so fat 's I was when I 'Hsted er I'd melt 'n'run off in a stream. Purty hot, ain't it ? " "Ye're mighty right ! "replied Shorty. "Ef I'manygood at guessin' we'll have it a diff 'runt kind o' hot 'fore night. I'll bet the Johnnies 'sup to suthin 'n' 'tain't no tomfoolery, nuther, er the\' wouldn't be so quiet 's they've been this mornin'." "Thar they come, now. Shorty I" suddenly exclaims Si, as he thrusts the muz- zle of his rifle through the crevice below the ^g head-log, draws up the hammer, and places his finger on the trigger. "Look at the raskils pilin' over that stun wall 'n' leggin' it this way. Seems 's if they was comin' mighty thick. Let's hold on t'll they git a leetle furder 'n' then we'll pepper 'em. Our guns 's got sixteen shots FORT KLEGG. apiccc, 'n' v^re'll make 'em think we're a hull rijiment. Ain't I glad we bought these 'ere Henr^^s ! They're jest the boss guns." Si chatters aw^ay, scarcely knownng what he says. The rebels are half a mile distant, at the edge of a large field. With their muskets at a "trail" they take the double- quick and make their w^ay rapidly toward the Union pickets. Behind the heavy line of skirmishers come the solid battalions massed for a furious assault. "We don't want ter stay here too long," suggests THE CHARGE OF THE GRAYCOATS, 607 Shorty, "'cause ye know we can't fight the hull rebel army; 'n' 'sides that our fellers back 't the works can't open on 'em — leastways they won't want ter — till arter we gits back." Short}'- is the cooler of the two, and takes in the whole situation. Si only thinks of making the most of his op- portunity — for rarely had so good a one been offered him — to use his repeating rifle to advantage. "That's all right, Shorty; we'll have lots o' time ter git back arter we've guv 'em our sixteen pills apiece. They look kinder sick 'n' I 'low our medis'n' '11 do 'em good- They're comin' so thick 't we can't miss 'em 'n' we'll jest have a picnic!" "You're my commandin' ossifer, Si, 'n' I'm goin' ter stay t'll you says the word. But we'll hafter git up 'n' dust when we do start.'' On and on come the soldiers in gray. Those in the ad- vance are half-way across the intervening space, and are fast nearing the chain of rifle-pits. With eyes almost bursting from their sockets. Si watches their approach. His heart throbs wildly ; the hot blood leaps through his veins ; his cheek is aflame with the fervid glow of excite- ment. The impatient pickets on the right and left begin the fire. "Now sock it to 'em, Shorty," exclaims Si, as he glances quickly along the barrel of his rifle and a bullet speed? from Fort Klegg. As they encounter the fire from the outposts the rebels, not pausing to use their muskets, bend their heads to the storm, quicken their steps, and break forth in a mad yell. The hands of Si and Shorty fly nimbly as they work their repeaters to their utmost capacity. Fast speed the deadly missiles. Every one seems to take effect in that charging mass, at rapidly shortening range. Now 608 "the PHILISTINES BE UPON THEE ! " the rebels are so near that Si can see the very white of their eyes. "Plug it into 'em!" he shouts. "WeVe droppin' 'em right 'n' left." And he works with redoubled ardor till the last shot in his magazine has been fired. "Now. Shorty, let's climb out o' this!'' Si has been too brave, and has permitted his zeal to out- run his judgment. He has thought of nothing but doing the greatest possible execution, and does not know that on the right and left the pickets wisely fell back to the main line after the first volley into the face of the foe. The rapid and persistent fire from Fort Klegg has checked somewhat the advance in its immediate front, but on both flanks the rebels have swept on and are swarming in the rear of the little fortification that has been so gallantly defended. As Si and Shorty turn to retreat they are amazed to find themselves covered by half a dozen muskets, with loud demands for immediate and unconditional sur- render. At the same instant men in gray, with gleam- ing bayonets, storm the now silent work, leap over the head-log, and close in upon the hapless garrison. Breathless and dumfounded, Si is for the instant speech- less. It is one of those critical moments ^vhich admit of no delay. Something must be said or done instantly or it will be the last of Corporal Klegg and his faithful pard. Shorty comprehends the emergency, and sees at a glance that there is but one thing that the bravest man can do under such circumstances. Rethrows up his hand in token of surrender, and he and Si are in the hands of the Philis- tines. Si had not yet recovered his senses. The scenes had been shifted so suddenly that he was bewildered. He could not comprehend that he \vas really a prisoner. Never in all his service as a soldier had the thought of surrender once en- tered his mind SI AT LENGTH CAPITULATES. 609 Half a dozen Confederates sprang forward, each of them eager to secure such a jDriire as a Henry rifle. ''You jest leggo that ar gun, will ye! '' said Si with em- phasis, as one of them seized his weapon and tried to wrest it from his grasp, "/hain't s'rendercd ^'•et, 'n' ef ye'll jest gimme two minutes ter load up my rifle I'll fight the hull pn ye! " Si's face fairh^ blazed in the intensity of his indignation and wrath. Prudence ^ C was not one of his car- ^ dinal virtues, and at that instant, if he could have refilled his maga- zine with cartridges he would have defied a regiment of grajxoats. " Steady, thar, my boy ! " exclaimed Shor- 1| ty. " Yecan't help yer- ** self 'n' ye've got ter cave." " I'll bring him to Limerick !'' said a burly Confederate, as he placed the muzzle of his musket to Si's head. "Now drap that thar gun 'n' hold up yer hands right quick, you Yank, er ye'll be a dead man 'n three seconds! " "Don't shoot, Johnny," pleaded Shorty. "Let up on him 'n' I'll bring him 'round. Ye see he ain't nothin' but a boy, but he's chuck fullo' sand. He's got steam uppurty high, but he'll git blowed off d'reckly 'n' then he'll cool down. 'Twon't do ye no good ter kill him." By this time Si had yielded to the inevitable. Looking into the muzzle of that loaded musket, he wisely detsr- COMPELLED TO SURRENDER. 610 A COSTLY VICTORY. mined not to pursue the argument. The other fellow ' ' had the drop on him," and he o-ave a signal of capitulation. His feelings overcame him as he saw his beloved rifle, that had served him so well, pass into the hands of an enemy, and tears of sorrow and vexation streamed down his face. "Git right out o' this. Yanks!" said one of the rebels, who had been directed to march the prisoners to the rear. "Ye hain't got no time ter stan' here snivelin'. Now travel!" Under the persuasive influence of a glistening bayonet Si and Shorty moved off" in the direction indicated. " Looks 's though it had cost 'em suthin ter capcher you 'n' me!" said Shorty to his comrade in an undertone, pointing to a dozen or fifteen of the enemy who were lying dead or wounded wnthin the range of Fort Klegg. It was evident that most of their shots had taken effect. "I'd ruther I hadn't seen 'em," said Si, " 'cause it makes me feel bad, arter all, ter know I've killed any on 'em, even ef they is rebels. Ye know they're all human bein's 'n' I can't git it outen my head 't it's jest 'bout the size o' mur- der. Mostly when we're in a big fight, 'n' all on 'em 's bangin' away, a feller don't know whether he hits anybody er not ; but ther' ain't no chance ter feel that way 'bout this 'ere scrimmage we had. Mebbe you killed 'em all, Shorty." "I don't keer 'f 3^ou think so. Si. I ain't so squeamish 's you be, 'n' I kin stan' it. Thefaster they 's killed off the quicker it'll wind up the job." 'I s'pose ther' ain't no denyin' that, Short}^ but — I don't reck'n God meant ter have me fer a soljer, er he 'd ha' made me diff'runt." "I don't see how he could ha' done a better job ef he'd made ye to order! " replied Shorty. They walked over the field at a moderate pace. The "Johnny" appeared to be satisfied with his detail to march THE SOLDIERS WERE HUMAN. Gil them back, and was seemingly in no hurry to finish the duty. Possibly he indulged the hope that the fight would be over before he should rejoin his regiment. Little won- der if he did. Generally speaking, there was no feeling of personal enmity between the soldiers of the Union and Confederate armies. They learned thoroughly to respect one another for their courage and fighting qualities, and war did not make them savages or wild beasts. The instincts of hu- manity may have been deadened in some cases, but in others they were made more keen by the sight of human suffering, and rarely, indeed, did the}' wholly disappear. Even in the fiercest heat of battle, it was not often that soldiers on either side indulged in wanton killing. No doubt life was sometimes taken in a way that was simply atrocious murder ; for it would be strange if among two or three millions of men, leading a life that, at its best, had a tendency to arouse the basest passions, there were not some to whom the quality of mercy was un- known. Ever}^ 3^ear hundreds of crimes, equally revolting, are committed by men whose breasts are not inflamed by the fires of war. As a rule, when a man was wounded or a prisoner he was no longer an enemy. The last cracker and the last drop in the canteen would be freely shared with a suffering foeman. It will be understood that these observations are intended to apply to the soldiers in the field, who marched and fought, giving and taking hard blows. Such w^ere the characteristics of these men, on both sides, with few exceptions. "You-unsfout mighty well 'hind that thar breastwork o' yourn,"" said the guard, by way of scraping up an ac- quaintance with his prisoners. "We madeit 's warm fer ye 's wecould,'' replied Si. His temperature had fallen several degrees, and his tongue was getting into its normal condition. •' When we was chargin' up thar ye made us b'lieve thar 612 AN OFFER TO NEGOTIATE. was a hull comp'iiy, with them dog-goned guns o' j'ourn, 't ye loads up on Sunday 'n' then shoots 'em all the week. What sort o' killin' machines be they, anyway ? I've heern tell on 'em but I never seen one alore . ' ' "Pard," said Si, "I didn't git that rifle f*m the guvy- ment. She belongs ter me, 'cause I bought her 'th my own money 't I arned a-hoofin' it 'n' fightin' rebs. Ef she was Uncle Sam's property it 'd be all right fer 3'e ter hang on to her, but bein' 'tain't ye ought ter give her back." The guard was carrying the two Henry rifles on his shoulder. The Confederates did not know how to use them, nor would they be of any service without a supply of ammunition made especially for them. The rebel soldier did not coincide with Si's views on the question of owner- ship. He held to the idea, almost universally prevalent in both armies, that under any and all circumstances, with- out regard to the claims of friend or foe, anything belonged to whoever had it. Possession was more than *'nine points in law " — it was the law itself. "I 'low ter have one o' them guns, myself," said the guard. "When we git back a leetle furder I'll ax ye to shell out whatcatridges ye got, 'n' then yell have ter show me how the old thing works." This put a thought into Si's head, and he nudged Shorty suggestively with his elbow as he said : "I'll tell ye what I'll do, Johnny, 'n' less see 'f we can't make a barg'in. I'll give ye my repeater 'n' all the cat- ridges both on us 's got, 'n' show ye how ter shoot 'em, ef 3'e'll shet yer eyes fer jest two minutes. I'll do 's much sometime fer you." " Ye'd like ter git away, wouldn't ye? I'd git myself in a purty pickle. I'd hate ter do it, but ef ye try any monkey-shines 'th me I'll put a bullet through ye. I reck'n I've got a tollable sure thing on this 'ere gun 'n' yer am'ni- tion." Shorty smiled at his comrade's offer to negotiate for FAILURE OF THE ASSAULT. 613 freedom. Although he had given no hint to Si he had sev- eral times carefully swept the field with his eye, and calcu- lated the possibilities of escape. He was ready to take any hazard, and knew well enough that he could depend upon Si. But the stragglers and army followers were too numerous in all directions to allow the slightest hope of success. The impatient captives could only bide their time, trusting that an opportunity might be offered. But no opening was presented, and Si and Shorty were delivered into the custody of an officer whose duty it was to receive prisoners, and who had at command an ample force to guard them securely. Before leaving them their escort relieved Si and Shorty of the ammunition for their rifles, and required them, at the point of the bayonet, to instruct him in the use of the weapons. Si groaned in spirit at the thought of their guns being aimed, perhaps, at his own comrades of the 200th Indiana. All this time had been borne to their ears the roar of battle. The rapid boom of artillery and the sharp, rolling Yorie3^s of musketry told of hard fighting. The rebel wounded streamed to the rear or w^ere borne back upon stretchers. Both Si and Short\' were eager to know the result. "How's it goin' ?'' Si asked of a Confederate soldier who came limping back with a bullet hole through his leg. " Bully fer our side!" was the reply. "WeVe only been fallin' back ter draw ye on, 'n' you-all 's goin' ter git the srosh-durnedest lickin' todav ve ever heern tell on." Si ventured to remark that he didn't believe it. A few minutes later there was abundant evidence that his faith in the 200th Indiana and the other regiments guarding the point assailed was well grounded. Stragglers in an advanced stage of demoralization were seen emerging from the woods and making their way across the field at the highest attainable speed. Thicker and faster they came, and soon a disordered swarm of Confederate troops 614 A TIME TO KEEP STILL. was struggling to the rear. The assault had failed. The conflict was short, sharp and decisive. The air re- sounded with the mad yells and curses of the defeated sol- diers, while in the distance could be heard the triumphant shouts of the "Yankees," as thev pressed closely upon the heels of the fleeing foe. "Jest look at the Johnnies, Shorty," said Si, as he and his comrade stood, excited and breathless, watching the tide of fugitives as it swept toward them. " List'n at our fellers a-yellin'! I knowed they'd lick the raskils. Can't ye hear the boys o' Comp'ny Q hollerin' ? Don't I wish 't I was thar 'th my rifle ? Who-o-o-o-p !" Si started to yell, but was checked by Shorty. "Better load down yer safety-valve, Si, 'n' not be shootin' oft' yer mouth too much. These rebils '11 come back purty mad 'cause they didn't git thar, 'n' ef ye go ter yellin' 'n' prancin' 'round, like as not one on 'em '11 be mean 'nough to punch ye with his bay 'net. I feel like hollerin' myself, but thar is times when the best thing a feller kin do is ter hold in, 'n' this 's one on 'em." Around them everything was in the wiliest confusion. Other troops were being hurried up to cover the retreat of the regiments that had melted into a disordered mass, for the moment uncontrolled and uncontrollable. Staff offi- cers and orderlies dashed madly about with orders for the emergency. The little squad of prisoners — for there were others besides Si and Shorty — seemed to be forgotten. "Shorty," said his comrade in a low voice, "wouldn't ther' be a livin' chance fer us ter git out o' this. The Johnnies 'pears ter have 'bout 's much business on hand 's the}'- kin 'tend to, 'thout botherin' theV heads 'th us. Ef ye w^ant ter try it I'm ready." "I've been thinkin' 'bout it. Si, 'n' I'm keepin' my eye skinned fer an openin'. You leave it ter me, 'n' when I poke ye 'n the ribs you foller me 's tight 's ever ye kin, 'n' we'll break fer the timber. I reck'n they'll send a few bul« SHORTY GETS A RAP. 615 lets chasin' arter us, but I'd ruther take the chances o' git- tin hit than ter be lugged off ter one b' them prisons we've heern so much 'bout. Now watch out !" More wild grew the tumult around them as the receding wave of battle tossed about the debris of the shattered column. Nearer and nearer came the shouts of the Union soldiers, rapidly advancing in a determined counter-charge. The disorganized Confederates rushed franticalU^ about, each bent on seeking his own safet}^, while the officers vainly strove to rally and re- form their broken bat- "• {''^'^Mii^^mW^'iiitiik, talions. It was one of those panics that at times demoralized -the bravest men. " Now ! " whispered ! Short}^ as he touched Si with his hand, and they darted away through the hurry- ing throng of men in gray. It \vas a desperate chance, but Shorty hoped that they might make their w^ay through the rush and whirl and reach the Union lines. "Stop them Yanks!" shouted the guards from whom they had escaped. An instant later Shorty was felled to the ground by a blow upon the head from the butt of a musket. Si stopped to look after his comrade, and thej^ were at once over- powered. Shorty was stunned for a moment, but not seriously hurt. He was half dragged along, and he and Si were again in the custody of the guards. A FRUITLESS DASH. 616 PRISONERS TO THE REAR. "What are these Yanks doing here?" shouted an officer who came galloping up. "Why don't you take 'em to the rear. Be lively about it ! The\''re all we've got to show for this day's work, and we can't afford to lose 'em !" Away they went, urged to the double-quick by the bay- onets of the guards behind them. On came the solid lines of a fresh Confederate division that had been ordered to the breach, marching with brave and confident step. It checked the advance of the Union troops, and served as a wall, behind which the fragments of the regiments that had been torn and broken by the fruitless assault were rallied around their colors, and a semblance of order was restored. In such a campaign, with its dally recurring attacks and flank movements, prisoners were not long kept at the front of either army. They were an incumbrance to active movements, and there was liability of escape or recapture. For these reasons they were hurried to the rear. Nightfall found Si and Shorty and their companions in captivity miles away from the place where they had fallen into the hands of the enemy. Shorty was not disabled by the blow he had received, though there was a lump on his head as large as a door-knob. When they went into bivouac for the night Si naturally began to inquire about rations. Nothing remained in his haversack except a few broken bits of hardtack. He had painful misgivings on this score, for he had heard that the Southern Confederacy did not provide a sumptuous bill of fare for its prisoners of war ; and that in quantity it was not up to the demands of the average human stomach. Si waited a reasonable time, with as much patience as he could command, and then, there being no visible signs of a banquet, he concluded to put out a feeler. "Say, pard," he said to one of the guards, "how long 'fore supper 's goin' ter be ready? I'm gittin' mighty nungrv." THE SUPPER QUESTION. 617 "I'll take yer order. What'U ye have — ej^ester stew, • oast beef, roast turkey, spring lamb 'n' peas, er pork 'n' apple-sass — anything you-all want; we keeps a regular hotel here," and the guard laughed heartily at his tan- talizing humor. "I guess ye're jokin', Johnny," replied Si, "but I ain't a bit pertickler, only so it's suthin t' eat 'n' plenty on it." "Wall I kin tell ye, Yank, 't ye won't git nothin' t'night. We hain't got no more 'n jest 'nough ter go 'round fer w^e- uns, 'n' desp'rut poor stuff 't that. You-all gits right smart better grub 'n we does, 'n' I 'low ye'll have tercome down a peg ertwo 'n yereatin' fer a bit. Got any coffee?" "I'm purty nigh busted on coffee. Ef I'd knowed I was goin' ter be snatched bald-headed I'd ha' laid in a s'ply. I hain't got more 'n 'nuff fer a couple o' drawin's. 'Twon't last no longer 'n termorrer." "I'm 'feard 'twon't last ye that long, pard, 'cause 1 w-ant it right now, powerful bad. It's so long sence I had a swig o' coffee 't I've fergot what 't tastes like." " Wha-a-a-t! "said Si, "ye ain't goin' fer to take that, ar' ye?" "That's 'bout the bigness on it. You heerdwhat I said, 'n' I'll trouble ye to fork it over." Si's anger rose at the thought of such an indignity. He cast an appealing look at Shorty, as if to ask what he had better do about it. "Let 'em have it, Si," said his comrade. "You 'n' me made a good squar' fight today, but we got everlastin'ly whipped 'n' ther' ain't no way but ter take the consekences. They've got yQ foul, pard, 'n' ye can't help 3'crself." It went against the grain with Si to give up his coffee, but the gentle, suggestive prod of a bayonet quickened his movements, and he surrendered to the Confederate therasf ?n vv^hich it was tied. A similar requisition was made on r^horty, which was honored without a murmur "Id like ter kick, too," he said to Si, "but 'tain't nousf. (>18 COFFEE — FOR THE JOHNNIES. It'll only make things wuss, 'n' I'm goin' ter grin 'n' ^'ar it:' He found an opportunity to whisper in Si s ear that he was going to watch very sharp for a chance to get away. "Some o' the boys what gits capchered does make the riffle," he said, " 'n' ef they kin we kin." The thought of escape was uppermost in Si's mind, and served to assuage the grief and chagrin he felt at being a prisoner. The startling and rapid events of the day had left him little time for reflection upon the fate that had be- fallen him, but he had determined to make the best of it, and was cheered by the belief that he and Shorty would contrive some way to regain their liberty. They had tried once and failed but this only made him the more eager for another effort. " Hello, Johnny," he said, as he saw the despoiler of his haversack making a kettle of coffee at a fire near by. "would 't be any more 'n fa'r ter give me a few swallers o' that coffee?" '-Ye kin have all 't 's left arter we-uns gits filled up. Ye hadn't better calkilate on gittin' much, fer we don't git sich a chance 's this only purty durned seldom. You-uns has dead loads o' coffee, 'n' 'twon't hurt ye ter go 'thout fer a while. We hain't had nothin' fer a year but chickery 'n' baked peas 'n' sich." Si and Shorty turned their haversacks inside out and devoured the last crumb they contained. The prospect before them was such as to fill their minds with con- sternation. This feeling was intensified when, after the guards had drained the coffee-kettle, one of them came up to Si and said, with an imperious air: "You Yank, come up out o' them shoes !" "What's that ye say?" "I 'lowed I was talkin' plain 'nough fer ye ter under- stand. I want ye ter take off them shoes !" "What fer? I don't feel like turnin' in yet." A YTCTTM OF THE SPOILEP. 619 "'Cause I want 'em!" said the Confederate, with em- phasis. "Now, pard, ye oughtn't ter rob a feller that way jest 'cause ve o-ot the whio-row on 'im. I wouldn't do that way to you ef the boot was on t'other leg. I only jest drawed them gunboats a few daj^s ago, 'n' I can't git long 'thout 'em, nohow.'' "I seen they was purty nigh new, 'n' that's why I want 'em. I reck'n they're 'bout my size. I'm onW goin' ter trade with ye. I'll give ve mine fer 'em, 'n' ye know a even Exchange ain't no robbery. Ther' ain't nothin' mean 'bout me." "But yourn ain't — " "We ain't gwine ter have no argyment. Thar ain't aothin' ter be said on your side. I want them shoes 'n' Vm goin' ter have 'em. 'n' that settles it. I know mine ain't quite 's good 's yourn, but you kin w'ar 'em jest 's Veil 's I kin. Now shuck them hoofs, 'n' ye don't wan't 'ier be all night doin' it, nuther." The impatient voice of the guard and his menacing pos- ture, left no room for doubt that the debate was closed. The motion to exchange was carried, for although it was 1 tie as between Si and "Johnny," the latter's loaded inusket and fixed bayonet had the casting vote, and inother victory was scored for the Southern Confederacy. While Si was unt^nng his shoes some things came into his mind that he would have liked to say, but on the whole ae thought he wouldn't. "Them socks o' yourn 's purty fa'r," said the rebel, ''better skin 'em off while ye're 'bout it. I'll have ter jorry them, 'cause I hain't got none ter give 3'e fer 'em." Si cast a despairing look at Shorty, and then proceeded to take off the dainty hose with which the government had provided him. "Thar," said the guard, when his feet were encased in his newly acquired propertj^, "that feels better. Now 3'ou £20 ENFORCED "SWAPPING." Km put them on ef ye want ter. Ef ye don't I reck'n ye'lJ have ter go bar'fut, same 's we does sometimes/' "Them" were a pair of nondescript articles which, Hke the earth before the work of creation was finished, were "without form and void." They showed some symptoms of having been once intended to serve as shoes. They were of the rudest manufacture. Army service had made sad havoc wnth them and they w^ere in the last stages of dilapidation and decay. " 'Fore I'd fight fer a guvyment 't didn't do no better by me 'n that !" said Si, as he eyed them contemptuousl3^ "Looka-hyar, Yank, 3^ou don't w^ant fer to talk like that ; 'twon't be healthy fer ye. We've got you-uns durned nigh licked, 'n' w^e don't 'low ter go 'th bar' feet 'n' empty stummicks much longer. But we don't w^ant none o' y^t insiniwations!" Si thrust his stockingless feet into the mouths of those Confederate shoes, inaking wry faces as he noted the holes and gaping seams. "Ye'd better tie these yere strings 'round yer feet ter hold them shoes on ! " said the guard. "I've been a-doin' that fer a month back." After Si had acted upon this suggestion he could not help laughing, in spite of himself, at the grotesque appear- ance of his feet. He expressed the hooe that he would not have to do much marching in those shoes. "We're goin' ter put ye on the keers termorrer," replied the guard, " 'n' run ye off down south, whar ye won't have no chance ter git awa3^ Them old shoes is purty nigh played out. They ain't no good fer marchin', but they '11 do 's well 's any fer ridin' on the railroad. B}^ the wa\^ Yank, I b'lievel'll swap hats with ye. I know yourn s better 'n mine; ef 'tw^asn't I don't reck'n I'd w^ant ter trade." Si cast a glance of decided disapproval at the rebel soldier's hat, which w^as faded and worn and batt r d. WHERE SI "had him." 621 While he was considering the advisability of opening a discussion his hat was lifted from his head by the guard, who offered his own in exchange. It was a fitting com- panion for the shapeless things that adorned Si's lower extremities. "Now, pard,"said Si, "ef ther's anything else 't ye want ['11 thank ye ter say what 'tis right now, 'n' less have this tradin' business done with. I've got rayther the wust o' the barg'inso fur, but I liketerbeaccommerdatin'. Mebbe ye'd like ter have my shirt ! " Si nursed with much satisfaction the thought of getting his shirt upon the back of his persecutor. It would be a prime opportunity^ to revenge himself. Weeks of hard campaigning and lying in the trenches found his nether garment in a condition of unusual animation. The Con- federate had a kind of fellow-feeling on this point, and he replied : "I don't b'lieve I keer fer a dicker o' that sort, unsight 'n' unseen; its too resky. Mine's bad 'nuff, 'n' I 'low I hadn't better take no chances on gittin'suthin aheap wuss. I don't want no more graybacks, but ef ye got any green- backs ye better be a-shellin' on 'em out." "I've got yethar, Johnny," replied Si with a triumphant smile. ' ' We hain't seen no money in a dog's age. Paj-mas- ters 's mighty skurce whar the bullets 's zippin' 'round. The climate don't agree with 'em ! " "Like 's not ye're lyin' to me, Yank, 'n' ef ye'll scuse me I'll jest see 'f ye've got any cash in yer clothes." "Ye're a spreadin' of it on purty thick," said Si, but he submitted meekly to the search, knowing that the result would be a full vindication of his veracity. " Thar, what'd I tell ^-e," he said, when the rebel had ex- plored all his pockets and carefully examined his clothing to be sure that there was none concealed under the lining. *'P"r'aps ye'll b'lieve me next time ! " "'That's all right ef 3'e hain't got none ; but this yere 's 622 REJECTED OVERTURES. a purt}^ good jack-knife. I'm needin' one, 'n' I'll jest take it 'n' we'll call it squar'. I'm much 'bleeged to ye." Shorty's meager supply of goods and chattels had been subjected to a similar process, and sundry articles had gone to replenish the wardrobe of another of the guards Both Si and Shorty found themselves in decidedl}^ reduced circumstances. They were thankful that the ravage of the Confederates had spared their blankets. "We'll let 3'e keep them," said one, "I reck'n ye'll need 'em when ye git down in the pen." " Lemme see! " said the sergeant in charge of the guards to Si and Shorty, as they were s pr e a d i ii g ,, „ down their blank- C^di cts by the fire, ' 'ye're the chaps 't tried so hard tcr git away today, ain't ye? I'll give yefciV warnin' 't I ain't goin' ter have ye playin' any o' yer Yankee tricks on me. Ef ^^e'll give me yer word, 'pon honor, 't ye won't A ONE-SIUED BARGAIN. cut Up no capers t'night that'll settle it. Ef ye won't I'll have ter tie ye up, cause I'm 'sponsible fer you-all 'n' Em goin' ter make a sure thing on 't.'' "We sha'n't promise nothin'," replied Shorty. "A feller what's a pris'ner 's got a right ter git away ef he kin. It's your business ter see 't he don't. 'Tain't reggelationj^ for ye to go ter tyin' on us up, nuther, same 's ef we wag BOUND HAND AND FOOT. G23 thieves 'n' cut-throats. Ye ought ter git some han'cuffs ter clap outer prisoners when ye capchers 'em ! " "I don't keer whether it's 'cordin' ter Hoyle er not ; it's goin' ter be did 'nless ye'll gimme yer word." "Nary time ! Go ahead with j-er tyin' ! '■ Shorty saw by the flickering firelight that Si's face was ablaze with indignation. It would be just like him to fight the entire squad, with such primitive weapons as nature had supplied. Shorty found opportunity to whisper in his comrade's ear : " Don't make any fuss, Si ; do jest 's I tell ye ! " The sergeant produced some pieces of stout rope and "with the help of two or three of the guards tied together Shorty's hands and then his feet. Si's breast heaved and his eyes flashed, but remembering Shorty's admonition he checked his volcanic tendencies, by a mighty effort, and when his turn came to be bound he submitted without a word. But his thoughts were raging. "Thar," said the sergeant, when the v^ork was finished, "I 'low ye won't git very fur away 'fore mornin'. Ef j^e'd 'have yerselves 'n' act sort o' decent we'd treat ye white, but we b'ar down hard on them as tries ter give us the slip." "That's all right, pard," replied Shorty, "ef ye'll jest kiver us up 'th that thar blanket." The sergeant spread the blanket over the captive Hoosiers, as they lay utterl}' helpless, bound hand and foot. The hearts of their fellow prisoners revolted at the scene, but it w^ould have been worse than useless to re- monstrate. The}' disposed themselves upon the ground for the night, and the guards were divided into reliefs, part of them to sleep while the rest paced to and fro around the motley bivouac. Si's thoughts ran over the events of the day. It was the first chance he had had to think since the Confederate host swept over Fort Klegg. He tried hard to reconcile him- 624 m A TIGHT PLACIS. self to his condition as a prisoner of war, but the more he tried the more marked was his failure. How his mother and sister Maria and prett}' Annabel would feel if they knew his situation. And then to think of Company Oand the rest of the 200th Indiana marching on without him. There he was, tied up like a miscreant, surrounded by rebel bayonets, and his cherished rifle in the hands of a foeman. It was too much for Si, and his goaded feelings found relief in a torrent of tears. His comrade's mind was busy as well, but it took a more practical turn and dwelt only upon the possibilities of escape. " Ye feel kinder leak^^ don't ye, pard?" he said, scarcely above a whisper, when Si began to overflow. "I thought it 'd hit ye in 3^er weak spot. I don't blame ye fer takin' on, but ye wants ter cheer up, 'cause we're goin' ter git out o' this sometime. P'r'aps 'twon't be t'night, ner t'morrer, ner next day, ner next week, but ef we keep our eyes peeled we'll see a hole sometime 't we kin git through. I know ye'll brace up, Si, fer ye alius does. We're in a tight place, but a bar'l o' tears won't help git us out." "Yer head 's level, Shorty," repied Si, as soon as he could command his feelings. "I ax yer parding. I didn't mean ter act like a baby, but I jest couldn't help it. I tell ye what. Shorty," he continued, after communing with himself for a moment, "I'd like ter be Samson, 't I used ter read 'bout 'n the Bible, fer jest five minnits. I'd bust these tarnal ropes, 'n' then I'd take the jaw-bone of a mule, same 's he did, 'n' I'd lay out these raskils." "That 'd be a fust-rate scheme ef it 'd work, but I don't b'lieve 't's wuth while fer ye ter try it on. We ain't both on us 's much 's Samson's little finger jest now." The captives were tied at the wrists but their fingers were measurably free. After a little time Shorty began to pick at the rope that bound Si's arms. He worked very carefully, under the blanket, and for along time the tightly drawn knots baffled his efforts. He finally sue- THE CORDS LOOSED, 626 ceeded in loosening the cord, and Si found, to his great joy, that his hands were free. Then he proceeded to untie Lis comrade. "Be mightj^ keerful,"" said Shorty, "'n' keep the blanket still. I heern the sargeant tell the guards ter keep a sharp eye on us." Si's patient labor was at last rewarded and Shorty's arms were no longer confined. To free their feet was a more difficult task, as the\^ could not be reached without a disturbance of position that would be likely to attract attention. "Double yerself up like a jack-knife. Si," whispered Shorty. "Git jer feet 's fur this w^ay 's ye kin; but do it slow — 'n inch 't a time — so them fellers won't s'pect nothin'." Very carefully, little by little, Si drew up his knees until the}'- almost touched his chin. Shorty's arms were pretty long, and by hitching himself down he managed to reach the cord. "I wish 't I had m^^ knife 't that raskil stole from me," Baid Si, " 'n' we'd make a quick job on 't." "Mine 'd do jest 's w^ell 'f I had it," replied Shorty, "but one o' them fellers 's got it. You hoi' still a bit 'n' I'll fetch it." The knots were stubborn but they yielded to Shorty's dexterous fingers. It took half an hour for Si to get him- self straightened out and Short}^ to pull his feet up where Si could reach them. At length the last cord was loosed, and they had not been detected. "Now% Si," said Shorty, "ef ye say so we'll try 'n' make a break. The rest o' the pris'ners 's all sleepin', 'n' so 's the guard reliefs. Them 't 's on the beats 's purty wed tuckered out, 'n' thej^'re set'n down 'n' noddin'. They think we're all tied up. Ef we try it 'n' they see us, course they'll shoot 'n' the old scratch '11 be ter pay. It's mighty 623 UP AND AWAY. ticklish business, Si, 'n' I don't ax ye ter take the chance o' dodgin' the bullets 'nless ye wants ter." "I'll jest jump at it, pard," said Si, who had listeved with intense eagerness. "When ye're ready gimme a hint 'n' I'll foller ye wherever ye go."' They la}' quiet for an hour, and then Shorty very care- fully raised his head and peered around. It was long past midnight. There was no moon, and the dim light of the twinkling stars scared}^ penetrated the foliage of the trees to relieve the darkness of the forest. The fire burned dimly and the forms of friend and foe lay motionless in slumber. Even the sentries had yielded to fatigue and were dozing in forbidden dalliance with the drowsy god. It seemed possible for the two captives to dash past the sleepy guards and in an instant be lost to sight in the dark wood. "Shall we try it, Si?" he asked, after he had explained the condition of affairs to his comrade. "Yes!" was the whispered reply, and Si'sheart throbbed violently at the thought of another bold dash for liberty. "Shall we take 'long our blankets ? " "I reck'n not," said Shorty; "they'd bother us runnin*. We'll leave 'em fer bail. Come on, quick ! " Springing to their feet they leaped over their sleeping comrades and bounded away like deer into the darkness. Their movement made little noise, but it was enough to arouse one of the guards to a consciousness that some- thing was out of joint. Starting up and looking wildly about he saw the disarranged blankets where Si and Shorty had been lying. Then his eye caught the fast re- ceding forms of the fugitives. Before he could bring his musket to his shoulder they were out of sight among the trees. Yelling "Halt, there! " at the top of his voice he sent a bullet whistling after them. In an instant everybody w^ae on his feet and the little bivouac was a scene of the wildest A FRUITLESS CHASE. 627 uproar. The sergeant cursed the guards who had per- mitted the prisoners to escape, and while they were mak- ing up their minds what to do, Si and Shorty were speed- ing away at a pace that defied successful pursuit. Obedient to the command of the sergeant, two or three of the guards dashed after the runaways. More could not be spared, as it was necessary to watch the rest of the prisoners and prevent a further deliverance. The irate sergeant ordered his men to look to their arms, and to shoot down instantly any who might attempt to escape. The pursuers had a bootless chase. They beat about in a frantic way among the trees and through the bushes, yelling and firing their pieces. All this evinced their zeal in the search, but did no harm to Si and Shorty. The latter had taken a circuitous route and, once fairly away in the darkness, had no difficulty in completely baffling their enemies. CHAPTER XLV. In Which Si and Shorty Experience Many Vicissitudes, but their Pluck Brings them Through. BY the time Si and Shorty had reached a safe distance they were thoroughly "blown,'' and crept into a thicket to recover breath and to consult regarding future movements. Thus far they had scarcely spoken since they began their flight, intent onl}^ on putting as much distance as possible between themselves and their misguided fellow- citizens in "butternut." "Purty good job, that," said Si, as he lay panting on the ground, scarce!}' daring to speak above a whisper. "T never made that many tracks so quick afore in mj^ life." 628 THEY RECONNOITER. "WeVe made a good start, Si," replied Shorty, but ye mustn't crow til yeVe out o' the woods. Gittin' awa^ was easy 'nough arter we got clear o' the guards. We sha^n't have no trouble t'night ; the rub '11 be when 't comes daylight. I'm all twisted up 'n these woods, 'n' I hain't no idee what d'rection we'd orter go ter find our fellers. Ef we knew which way 'n' could go straight thar 'twouldn't take long, but ye know we can't go plumb through the rebel army. WeVe got ter work 'round one eend o' their line, some way er ruther. 'Twon't be no soft snap, I kin tell ye. I 'low we can't do better 'n ter stay here t'll it's light so we kin git our bearin's. I ain't afeard o' them raskils findin' us 's long 's it's pitch dark; 'n' mebbe they won't make much fuss 'bout it nohow, fer they won't want ter own up 't they let us git away so easy. 'N' they thought they had us so dead with them pesky ropes!" They remained in their place of concealment, consider- ing what they should do when daylight came, and trying to decide upon the best possible course of action. There was little fear that they would be molested by any of the squad from which they had escaped. The guards had a lot of prisoners on their hands, and would think it useless to search for the two fugitives, supposing them to be miles away. With the first appearan.ce of dawn. Shorty began to cast about for the purpose of reconnoitering. " WeVe got ter find out how the land lays," he said to his companion, "'fore we kin tell what 't's best ter do. We ain't goin' ter run foul o' the rebs ef we kin help it." The increasing light revealed open ground at no great distance. Si and Shorty moved cautiously toward the edge of the wood. "Thar," said Shorty, "I'm goin' ter shin up :his tree Vi' squint 'round a bit. You watch out sharp fer any o' the SHORTY "gets HIS BEARINGS." 629 Johnnies 't mout be a-loafin' here'bouts. Whistle ef ye see an^' on 'em." Shorty was a nimble climber and was soon among the top limbs of a tree that commanded a good view of the surrounding country. It scarcely need be said that S: kept a sharp lookout in all directions. Three or four miles away Short}' saw a long line of smoke, evidently from the breakfast fires of the Confederate army. There were none of the enemy in sight in the immediate vicinit}^ but in the distance he could see what seemed to be an encampment. When he had finished his observations he descended and hurriedly told Si what he had seen. Their only hope of success lay in attempting a wide detour around one of the enemy's flanks, and thus reaching the Union lines. Such a journey was perilous in the extreme, fraught with danger at ever}' step, and it was not without misgivings that they entered upon it. "Mebbe it'll take us a week to git 'round, ef we ain't gobbled up," said Shorty, as he led the way in the direction upon which he had decided. " But we're in this scrape 'n' that's the only way out. The chances is 't we'll git nabbed er shot. We hain't got nothin' ter fight with ner nothin' to eat, but we'll try 'n' pull through somehow. Ye must keep yer nerve up. Si, 'cause ye're likely ter have use fer all ye've got any minnit." "What we goin' ter do fer grub? " asked Si, for to him this question was always a living issue. Both were be- coming painfully conscious that they had had no break- fast — indeed, had eaten nothing since their cold "snack" behind the friendly intrenchments of Fort Klegg. "Men kin go 'thout eatin' a good while when the}' has ter," replied Shorty. Then, feeling that this would be but cold comfortfor Si, he added : "But Ireck'n we kin scratch up suthin ter bite at,ef 'tain't nothin' more'n a ear o' corn now 'n' then. Ef I ain't mistaken we'll have ter keep hid purty much durin' the daytime, 'n' go feelin' our way 630 EMPTINESS OF STOMACH. 'round at night. I'll jest tell ye, pard, we'll do the best we kin. Ef we gits cotched we can't help it, 'n' we'll wait fer the next chance 'n' try ag'in. Ther's nothin' like stickin* to it." They proceeded for a time with great caution, keeping in the woods and thick underbrush wherever practicable, and when in open country creeping along walls and fences. It was their intention as soon as they began to see signs of the enemy to conceal themselves for the remainder of the day. It was not possible for them to go a great dis- tance in the necessary direction without peril, as on all the main roads leading toward the Confederate "front," cavalrymen, stragglers and forage wagons w^ere contin- ually passing and repassing. Approaching one of these thoroughfares, which they dared not attempt to cross by daylight, they determined to find a hiding-place and re- main till night. They had quenched their thirst from an occasional pool of stagnant water, but their stomachs were in a state of violent rebellion over the scarcity of provisions. They had passed a cornfield or two, but every ear had been plucked. Famine stared them in the face, with no pros- pect of relief. To approach a house in quest of food would be madness, and an attempt to forage by daylight would be scarcely less dangerous. "What ar' we goin' ter do. Shorty?" said Si, who leaned heavily upon his comrade for counsel. It was a sad plight in which he found himself, and he mourned as those with- out hope. "It does look a leetle streaked," replied Shorty, gravely. "I can't see very fur ahead, but 'tain't often a feller gits inter sich a fix 't ther' ain't a way out ef he kin only find it." A cloud of dust in the distance betokened the approach of a body of horsemen, and the ears of the wanderers soon caught the sound of hoofs clattering on the pike. Immedi- A NEW AND ALARMING DILEMMA, 631 ate concealment was necessar\'. The}- glanced quickly around but no friendh' cover presented itself. "Climb that thar tree," said Shorty. "Be spry, 'n' Til foller ve!" Two or three minutes later Si and Shorty were high among the branches, where they hoped that in any event the leaves would hide them from view. Nearer and nearer came the Confederate troojDers. The anxious Hoosiers peered through the foliage, hoping the cavalcade would pass, and they might safely descend. They grew suddenly pale, and could on]j look at each other in blank dismay, when the head of the galloping column turned into the wood and approached them. Men yelled, horses neighed and sabers clanked as the officer in command ordered a halt. Under and far around the tree from which the un- happy fugitives looked down upon the unwelcome scene, the cavalrymen in gray and butternut picketed their horses, " baiting " them with bundles of forage that each carried strapped to the saddle. Then with rude jest and laugh, and snatches of "Dixie" and "Bonnie Blue Flag," the men disposed themselves upon the ground for rest and refreshment. They were in high feather, which seemed to be due in a great measure to the fact that they had a bountiful supply of coffee, salt, hardtack and other articles that did not usually enter into the Confederate menu. The festive spirit that prevailed was explained by their conversation, from which Si and Shorty learned that they had just returned from a successful raid in the rear of the Union army, where the}' had captured one of the corps supply trains, well laden with commissary stores. With wistful eye and yearning stomach, Corporal Klegg looked upon the active preparations for the festivities. He wanted some of that coffee and hardtack, and wanted it "bad." Some of the raiders had cans, bottles, boxes and other "loot" that had evidently been taken from a sutler. Si found for the moment a little satisfaction in the 632 HARD LINES. thought that possibly it was the "skinner'' of the 200th Indiana who had been "cleaned out." But how long would the rebels stay there? This was the most important question to the young patriots roost- ing on the limbs of that tree. They might be off in an hour and theymight go into bivouac for a week. Si and Shorty could readily foresee that in a day or two, at most, starva- tior. vould compel them to surrender themselves if their vis- itors remained. "It's hard lines, pard," said Shor- ty, in a scarcely audible whisper, '^ as he gazed sym- ^^ pathetically into the woe -begone face of his com- rade. " How kin we git out o' this ? It's the tightest pinch yet," re- plied Si, who had such unbounded faith in Shorty's mental resources that it was not without confi "treed. dence that he appealed to him even in this extremity. "I don't like ter own up 't I'm beat," said his comrade, "but I'm 'feared the jig 's up, ef them scalawags don't pull out o' thar. Seems 's ef fate 's agin us. We can't do nothin' only jest wait, 'n' mebbe suthin '11 turn up ter let us out." Hour after hour passed, and the troopers gave no sign of departure. They built shelters of rails and brush, as if SHORTY GETS AN IDEA. 633 for a protracted stay, and Si regarded this hopefully. He knew that whenever the 200th Indiana did that, marching orders quickly followed, and he thought perhaps it might be the same way with the "Johnnies." The soldiers cut down some of the trees to supply themselves with materials. Si and Shorty united in a fervent prayer that the axe would not be laid to the tree in which they were quartered. That prayer was answered. During the remainder of the day the Confederates lay around, feasting and sleeping and chatting and smoking their cob pipes. The "treed" refugees could hear nothing that indicated a purpose to march, which alone w^ould re- lieve them from their predicament. The condition of Si and Shorty was fast approaching the limit of endurance. Their hunger was growing furious, and their cramped positions became hourly more painful. Haunted b}^ the constant fear of discovery, they dared not move hand or foot. They spoke but seldom, and only in faint and stifled tones. Escape seemed hopeless, and more than once they were on the point of making their presence known and opening up negotiations for an honorable sur- render. But still they waited and hoped against hope. Both were more than willing to take any desperate chance to regain their liberty, but there was nothing that afforded the slightest encouragement to attempt it. Si tried in vain to devise some way of escape. He could not think of an\^thing except something to eat. The sight of the riotous raiders feasting sumptuously upon their spoils, and the fragrance of the steaming coffee that seemed to be wafted upward to tantalize his nostrils, were mad- dening. It was plain that Si could not stand it much longer. Shorty kept his wits at work upon schemes for deliverance. One after another was carefully weighed and rejected as impracticable. At length a thought came to him, like an inspiration. By careful nursing it soon de- veloped into a plan that he believed was feasible; it was 634 THE PLAN UNFOLDKU, worth trying, anyway. When darkness settled upon the wood, lessening the chances of discovery, and the "John- nies " were noisily engaged in making shift for the night, Shorty unfolded his project to his comrade. He had little doubt that Si would be ready to do anything he might suggest. "Si,'' he whisper d, "do ye want tertrymakin'abreak?" "Ye kin jest bet I do. Ef ye've got a way thunk up 't '11 git us out o' this mess I'll give ye all the money 't I git nex' pay-day. I'm beginnin' ter feel 's though I was on my last legs, 'n' ef ther's any show^ fer gittin' away we've ^ot ter try it on. How'll we do it? " "You give yer tongue a rest, pard, "'n' I'll tell ye. These chaps down here, ef I ain't mistook, 's nigh played out. Been a-goin' it purty stiddy, day 'n' night, I reck''n. Ye know they've been pitchin' inter the grub 's ef they hadn't had nothin' t'eat fer a month, 'n'' they'll sleep mighty 60und ternight. Bein' 's they're way back 'n the rear o' the rebil army I don't guess they'll put any guards on, 'n' ef they does I 'low they'll sleep 'long 'th the rest. They hain't no idee o' Yanks a-drappin' out o' the trees. Now arter thevall gits tersnorin' we'll slide down 'thout makin' no fuss 'n' jest drap f'm them lowest limbs. Mebbe ye've obsarved t ther' 's some o' the bosses 't ain't tied, but 's stan'in' 'round kind o' car'less like. 'Twon't take us but a jiffy ter climb outer a couple on 'em 'n' skedaddle. A good many o' them seceshers 's full o' suthin 't '11 keep 'em sleepin' 'n' I don't b'lieve any on 'em '11 git waked up quick 'nuff ter head us off. Ef they shoots let 'em bang away ; them one-hoss guns 't the critter soljers lugs round don't mount ter much fer hittin' a body. Ar' ye in fer it, Si ?" This question was wholly unnecessary. Of course he was "in for" anything that offered a chance of escape. Around blazing heaps the rough-riders lounged lazily, eating and washing it down with tipple, of which they had ail abundant supply. With no danger near, discipline IT WORKED WELL. 635 was relaxed after their hard service, and they were per- mitted to do pretty much as they pleased. The smoke of tlie fires at times enveloped Si and Shorty, and as they sat watching and waiting, manj^ a cough and sneeze that would have been fatal was determinedly throttled in its incipient stage. "Now 's our time," said Short}^ at length. The fires had burned low and the weary, surfeited and tipsy troopers were lying about — some wrapped in their ragged blankets, while others had simply wilted under the in- fluence of the warmth and the potations in which they had indulged, and lay in grotesque postures. All were in a heavy sleep. "Now be keerful, pard," said Shorty, as he led the descent, slowly and noiselessly. In a few minutes they had reached the lowest limbs, where they paused to get breath and to reconnoiter for the dash, by the dim light of the smoldering embers. "Pick out yer hoss, 'n' go fer him like lightnin' jest 's soon 's ever ye hit the ground. You take that 'ere spotted one 't looks like a circus hoss, 'n' I'll go fer the white-face sorrel. Now, ready — go!^' Nimbly swinging themselves down by their hands, they dropped a few feet to the ground. A Confederate lying near was half awakened by the noise and rose upon his elbow. None other of the sleepers had been aroused. "Make a sound 'n' I'll blow yer brains out !" said Shorty in a hoarse whisper. The startled trooper thought it wise to take care of what brains he had. In an instant the fugitives were upon the backs of the horses. Shorty dashed away in the direction he had chosen as the most favorable, urging his steed to a gallop as he picked his way through the bivouac. Si followed, a good second in the race. The straps around the necks of the horses sufficed to guide them in their course. The commotion set the picketed horses to neighing and 636 FREE AGAIN. stamping; and the cavalier who was cowed by Shorty's threat, thought he might now let off a yell without dan- ger of losing his brains. A great uproar followed, but the daring riders were lost in the darkness. Si and Shorty dashed on, they knew not whither, think- ing only of getting away from the hostile bivouac. They dared not take the road, which would doubtless be pick- eted by the enemy. They at length determined to aban- don the horses that had done them such good service, as feg3^o£> .'" was the terse response of his comrade The emphasis he placed upon the "bob" was the strongest possible evidence of his loyalty. There was perfect unanimity of sentiment in the party, and the officer retired without having secured any recruits to fight against the flag of their country. The starving prisoners gathered around, w^aved their skinny hands, and greeted them with approving cheers and shouts of " Bully for the fresh fish ! " This term was universally app led to new arrivals of prisoners. Ah, no! all these have long suffered for their patriot- ism, and yonder lie thousands who were faithful and true to the last feeble gasp of expiring life; and Corporal Klegg and his comrade are not the ones to betray their country, upon whose altar they have laid their all ! We need not enter into the details of their daily prison life. The exceeding meagerness and wretched quality of the food were a constant and powerful spur to Si in his efforts to devise some way of escape. Scarcely an hour passed that he did not propose to his comrade some plan that Shorty's better judgment condemned as impracticable. The latter was fully vested with the veto power, and most of Si's relief measures were promptly disposed of in this way. 642 A CHANCE OFFERED. Shorty counseled patience, but Si grew restive at the delay. More than once Shorty directed his attention to the cordon of watchful sentinels, clad in gray, with loaded muskets, around the stockade ; the body of troops with- out, quick to respond to the slightest alarm; and the artillery, with shotted guns, planted upon the adjacent hills. The frequent attempts to escape, by tunnels and otherwise, had served to heighten the vigilance of the guards. "We don't want ter make a break," said Shorty, "'less we've got a livin' chance. Ef we try it 'n' git cotched, that'll be the end on 't. I « 'low they'll chuck us in where we'll have ter stay fer a while." Two or three weeks later, when a detail w^as made to go with w^agons for wood, Shorty volunteered the services of himself and his comrade. They were yet vigorous, and better able to do the work than others. Si gladly con- sented, casting a quick, inquiring glance at Shorty, which the latter readily interpreted. " Look sharp. Si," he said, *"n' watch me cluss, but be keerful 'bout lettin' on!" The detail, accompanied by a detachment of rebel soldiers, went to the forest, half a mile from the stockade. The prisoners were so docile and industrious that their attend- ants were in a measure thrown off their guard and loitered carelessly about. Shorty and Si started for a stick that lay a few steps beyond the guards. IN THE PRISON-PEN. AND PROMPTLY IMPROVED. 643 "Do ye want ter try it, Si?" asked Shorty in a whispei. **Ye know these rebil guns has all got bullets in 'em! " " Go it ! " was the reply. As they stooped to lift the log, Shorty glanced quickly at the guards, and saw that none were watching with especial attention. "Now, git — fer yer life ! " he said in a low tone. "Both bounded away, and so quick were their move- ments, and so noiseless their steps upon the yielding earth, that they were a dozen paces away among the thick trees before their flight was discovered. "Halt, there, you Yanks! " yelled one of the guards, as he drew up his musket and fired wildly, the ball whistling among the tree-tops. Crack — crack — and a dozen illy- directed missiles were sent after the fugitives, who were now rods awa}^ and going six feet at a step. The bullets pattered against the trees, two or three of them zipping unpleasantly near, but neither of the swiftly flying Hoosiers was touched. "Ef they stop ter load we kin git out o' range," said Shorty, to encourage his panting comrade, "'n' ef they tries ter chase us 'th the'r traps on we kin outrun 'em. Leg it. Si ; put in yer best licks ! " Si needed no urging. He leaped over the ground like a deer, with a burst of speed that surprised himself and fairly challenged the longer and usually more active legs of Shorty. A few of the guards threw down their muskets and started in pursuit. Those who remained had their hands full of business immediately. Quick to seize an oppor- tunity, as soon as the thoughtless guards had discharged their muskets, one of the prisoners shouted "Come on, boys, here's our chance!" and away they all went, scat- tering in every direction. This was highly favorable for Si and Shorty, who by this time were out of sight in the woods. The demoralized guards — terror-stricken at 6i4 ELUDING THEIR PURSUERS. thought of the punishment thej^ would incur for having permitted a "delivery" — charged around -with frantic A-ells in the vain effort to stop the runaways. Meanwhile the sound of the firing had alarmed the forces at the prison and a few minutes later a squadron of cavalry was on the gallop to join in the chase. Si and Shorty had no difficulty in outstripping their pur- suers, who vt'Cre incumbered by their accouterments, and for the moment they were free. They knew they would be hunt- ed by men and horses and fierce dogs, and they sped on, that they might get as much the start as possi- ble. If they could baffle their ene- mies until night there would be hope. An hour — two hours — passed, and they were miles from the loathsome pris- on. Carefully avoiding the highwaA^s and habitations of man, they threaded their way through forest and copse. At length they thought they heard the distant baying of the hounds upon their track. Fortunately one of those great swamps so often met with in the south was near. With stick in hand to feel their way they plunged in and made for its darkest recesses, the IN THE SWAMP. RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 64C foul, slimy water at times reaching to their waists. For another hour they floundered on and then, as the^^ seemed to be nearing the farther side of the morass, Shorty advised concealment till night. They crept into a dense clump ol bushes and rank swamp grass. Standing knee deep in water, they waited through the closing hours of the day for the darkness. Little breath had been wasted in talk during their flight. Now they were free to canvass the situation and decide upon their course. There was not much argument or dif- ference of opinion, for Shorty's judgment had so rarely proved at fault that it was never called in question by his confiding comrade. Shorty had never studied astronomy from the books, but he thought he knew enough about the moon and the stars to be able to shape the long and peril- ous journey which they had so auspiciously begun. Their hearts sank as they thought of the many miles that they must traverse by night. But they cheered each other and stoutly nerved themselves for the trial. It will suffice for this veracious chronicle to say that Si and Shorty were among the few who succeeded in running the fearful gauntlet. They traveled by night, resting during the daytime in swamps and brakes and thickets, sleeping and watching each in turn. They subsisted upon corn, which was then in kernel, raw vegetables which they found here and there, and an occasional meal that tasted "sweeter than honey and the honeycomb," in the humble cabin of a friendly negro. Thus they pressed forward, for many days and nights. The worthless shoes given them in exchange the day of their first capture gave out entirely. Withfeet bare and bleeding, their clothestornby thorns and brambles, chilled by the nightly dews, beaten by sun and storm, and often enduringthe pangs of hunger, they pushed on toward the goal . When at last they entered the lines of the Union army, Si's long pent-up feelings found relief in a succession of wild yells that came near stampeding a whole 646 SAFE AT LAST. brigade. Such an overwhelming happiness had not filled his heart since the day he first put on a uniform as a recruit of" Company Q. The two vagabonds were received with a salvo of cheers by their comrades of the 200th Indiana. They had long since been given up for dead. The men crowded around them to hear the story of their adventures. "Fll tell ye all 'bout it rarter a wdiile," said Sij "but ye'll have ter jest wait t'll I git filled up 'with hardtack 'n' sow- belly. I'm holler clear down ter my toes ! " All the haversacks in the company were at once placed at the dis- posal of the returned fugitives, and nothing was thought of until their hunger had been satisfied. Then the orderly took them to the quartermaster, who fitted them out from top to toe v^rith new clothes. In the important matter of a shirt, Si was careful to draw one that was about four sizes too large for him. He knew it would shrink to the right proportions the first time he w^ashed it. The first army shirt Si had, shortened up so much after a washing that it looked more like a vest than a. shirt. RETURN OF THE VAGABONDS. CHAPTER XLVI. Si and Shorty Tak. { Sweet Revenge Upon the Enemy— Corporal Klegg Meets with a Sore Bereavement. ONE day the corps to which the 200th Indiana be- longed, flanked by a heavy force of cavalry, was dis- patched on arapid detour to the enemy's rear, to strike the railroad which was hischief source of supply. To favor the movement the main body of the Union army closely pressed the Confederate lines at all points, making it im- possible for the latter to detach any considerable body to operate against the raiders. Imposing and noisy "demonstrations," as they were called, to hold the attention of the enemy and mask the real movement elsewhere, were prominent in the strategy of this campaign, and of frequent occurrence on both sides. Sometimes only a brigade or division, at other times a corps or half the army, engaged in the spasmodic effort to deceive "the other fellows." The troops charged with this duty were bountifully supplied with ammunition, often a hundred rounds or more per man, and marched to the line of fortified outposts. Here, for hours at a time, they did nothing but load their muskets and blaze away into the woods toward the enemy— and j-ell. Often a battery or two of artillery contributed to the frightful din, sending shot and shell plunging through the trees. It was great sport for the boys, as they, in imagination, mowed down the rebels by hundreds, without danger 64'^ 6i8 MAKING A "demonstration." to themselves. After one of these ebuUitions the trees in front, which were the only sufferers, were a sight to ber hold. Not one of them but was slivered and scarred for a distance of fifty feet from the ground. Twenty or thirty men would select a tree perhaps a foot in diameter as a particular target and actually cut it down with their bul- lets. At these times the men worked themselves up almost to tl^e excitement of actual battle. At night they were hoarse from yelling, and as much exhausted as if they had been fighting all day. These theatrical performances were intended to distract the enemy and, if possible, induce him to weaken the point really to be assailed, by withdrawing from it troops to reinforce the line where the stunning hullaballoo indicated a probable assault. If he did this the "demonstration" was considered a success, and the tons of lead and iron so promiscuously scattered about were not Wasted. While one of these terrifying fusillades was in progress the corps alluded to, by a rapid march, brushing away the enemy's cavalry which hovered around, reached the rail- road that was its objective point. The men had been crowded to the utmost and were much wearied, but there was not a moment for rest. The success of the expedition and the safety of the command depended upon the greatest celerity of movement. The cavalry was sent out in all di- rections to watch the enemy. Half the infantry was ad- vantageously posted, throwing up hasty intrenchments, to cover the other half, which entered at once and with 2est upon the work of destruction. The cutting of railroads was, from the outbreak of the war, encouraged on both sides, and by this time had de- veloped into an important military industry'. Various implements and appliances, to facilitate the havoc and maks it as effectual as possible, were part of the equipment of every army. "Now we're goin' ter have some fun, Shorty !" exclaimed THEY STRUCK THE RAILROAD. 649 Si, as the 200th Indiana stacked arms beside the track and the specific duty to be performed became apparent to alL "I hain't never fergot the time the Johnnies cnt our cracker-Hne, 'n' I've aUus been hopin' we'd git a chance ter pa}' 'em back. 'Sides that you 'n' me 's got a pertickler spite agin this 'ere railroad, 'cause it's the one 't tuk us down ter that measly place 't we had sich a time gittin' 'wa\' from. I've got a fust-rate stummick fer pitchin* inter this job !" Five thousand men were thickly distributed on both DESTROYING A RAILROAD. sides of the road for a mile. The}' did not lay off their accouterments, and their muskets were Avithin grasp, should there be occasion to stop work and go to fighting. Axes, sledge-hammers, levers and "claws" were plentifully supplied. A few spikes were quickly drawn at intervals of two or three hundred yards. Then the men laid hold of the rails on one side, gave a mighty yell, and in an in- stant the track was turned over into the ditch. Vigorous blows with the sledges rapidly detached the ties from the rails. Meanwhile others had started a hundred fires all 650 "JEFF DAVIS'S NECKTIES." along the line. Upon these the ties were loosely piled, with quantities of fence rails and dry limbs and brush to feed the flames The long, clumsy iron rails were picked up, with a dozen men to each, as if they were feathers, and laid across the blazing heaps. In half an hour they were at a red heat, for six or eight feet in the middle. Then came the final process by which the devastation was made complete. With grappling-irons, made for the pur- pose, the rails were twisted two or three times around, as Si had often seen his mother twist doughnuts. The still glowing rails were then bent entirely around the trunks of standing trees, w^here they were left to cool. It was a scene of wild and furious tumult, never to be forgotten — the yelling, scrambling, sweating men, their faces begrimed with dust and smoke, lifting, prying, pounding and chopping, the shouts of the officers directing the operations and urging up the laggards, and the blaz- ing, crackling fires, stretching far along the track on either side. A few hours sufficed to utterly destroy miles of the road — the ties in ashes and the twisted, shapeless rails transformed into rings encircling the trees. When an undertaking of this kind was thoroughly car- ried out it caused, in many cases, serious embarrassment to the Confederate army. The vast mineral resources of the south were then almost entirel}^ undeveloped. Before the war all iron for railroads in that section was ob- tained from the north or imported from Europe. The south had no means to make good the wear of constar , use and the ravage of war. If rails were merely heated and bent it was possible to straighten them so that they mieht be relaid, but when thev were fantasticallv twisted by the grappling-irons of well equipped raiders, they were made valueless except as they might command the market price for "old iron." The frequent raids upon the lines of supply of the Union army, though annoying, w^ere fat less disastrous than was the destruction of railroads to the THE MILITARY RAILROADS. 651 enemy. The government kept at all desirable points abun- dant supplies of rails, ties, spikes, etc., and the engineer corps repaired the breaks Avith a rapidit\' that was amaz- ing. Not infrequently this was ^done tmder fir^, the men toiling with their muskets slung over their backs, part of them keeping back the enemy while the others pushed forward the w^ork. There seemed to be nothing impossible to the intelligent soldiers of the Union army. Railroads were invaluable for the speedy transportation of troops and supplies. At times, w'hen extraordinary facilities were needed — as when two corps were sent from the Army of the Potomac to reinforce the Army of the Cumberland at Chattanooga — the government took pos- session cf the necessary roads with all their rolling-stock, and as many engines and cars of other roads as could be used ; and for the time all private business had to give way. The southern roads, in the territory occupied by the Union army, were in many cases laid with new rails, the gauge being changed w^hen necessary, and stocked with engines and cars owmed by the government. These were all des- ignated "U. S. M. R. Rds."— United States Military Rail- roads. During the last year of the war the military rail- way service reached the height of efficiency. Plenty of engineers, conductors and trainmen were found, w^ho took their lives in their hands as truh^ as did the soldiers who marched to battle. While the 200th Indiana and the other wreckers were engaged in their work, they were more than once called into line with loaded muskets by sharp firing on the outposts, where there was constant skirmishing with the •tnemy's cavalr\'. At length a horseman came galloping in with the intelligence that a large bodj- of Confederate infantry' was approaching with rapid strides. The bugles sounded the "fall in" and away went the Union force, leaving the road for miles a smoking ruin. Through the night, stumbling along in the darkness, the men pushed 652 A WHITE FLAG. on, harassed in front, flank and rear b}- the rebel riders. Morning found the corps safely back in its place behind the great line of intrenchments. Si and Shorty ate their hardtack and bacon that day with keen enjoyment. Nothing since the regiment left Indiana had given them so much satisfaction as the oppor- tunity to wreak their vengeance upon that railroad. During the next few da^'s the zipping bullets that came in a constant shower from the rebel side seemed to be more than usually spiteful. They hissed angrily through the air, and pelted the "head-log" that surmounted every field- work. This log — usually ten or twelve inches in diameter — was laid along the top of the work, resting upon blocks, leaving a crevice two or three inches wide through which the gun was thrust for firing, the log affording good pro- tection to the heads of the soldiers. Of course some bul- lets found their way through the crevice and did fatal ex- ecution, but many lives were saved by the "head-log." After one of the fierce engagements that were of such frequent occurrence during those bloody days, Si Klegg and Shorty were on the picket line. A small body of Con- federates appeared in the edge of the timber skirting a field, waving a white cloth. " Be they goin' ter s'render? " asked Si. "I sh'd think they'd be gittin' tired 'n' wantin' ter quit ! " "I reck'n not," replied Shorty. "Looks termelikeaflag o' truce." This it proved to be. The proper oflBcer being summoned to receive the message, a request from the Confederate commander was delivered for a cessation of hostilities for two hours, to bury the dead. The bodies lay between the lines, and among them were some of the desperately wounded, inaccessible from either side so long as the firing was continued. The truce was agreed to, ond the necessary orders were at once sent alonc; the I'riss. Gladlv the combatants laid -OUR BUGLES SANG TRUCE. 653 down their arms and threw off their accouterments. The deadly crack of musket and whiz of bullet ceased and there came a brief season of quiet that was like a glimpse of heaven to the soldiers, weary of war. Large burial parties were detailed from each army, for the valor of both was attested by the corpses that lay upon that field, fast black- ening in the sun. Some wdth picks and shovels dug long trenches, in which were laid, side by side, the comrades who never again would fall in for roll-call or battle charge. Others tenderly lifted the wounded upon stretchers and bore them away. As far as possible the dead were identified and the resting place of each was marked by a roughly - carved head- board. No prayers were said ; there was no hearse with nod- ding plumes, no toll- ing of funeral bells; no loved ones to weep over the fallen brave. One by one, with per- haps not so much as a blanket for a wnnding- sheet, they were cov- ered with the earth which, a few hours before, they had trodden in the awful struggle. Officers and men not engaged in the dut}^ of interment, leaving behind them the implements of death, mingled freel x'- between the lines, none, of course, passingtheintrenchments of the other side. Soldiers in blue and in gray chatted as if the\' had been lifelong friends instead of deadly enemies, whose onW thought and act, day after day, was to take life. The fast-filling graves around them did not repress the laugh and jest that to one less calloused to such scerei UNDER A TRUCE. 654 *'sucH IS war!" would appear sacrilege. Personally these men were not foes, and they were alike brave in defense of what they believed to be the right. Save an occasional good-natured boast or rally in the way of badinage, little was said about the principles involved in the war or the conduct of the desperate campaign in which they were engaged. They bartered coffee and salt for tobacco, and cordially united in expressing the' hope that the war would soon end. Each was equally persistent in declaring that there was but one way in which it must and should end, and that was by the complete success of his side. Officers lounged about in little groups, talking of more weighty matters, and passing the flask from one to another in the most sociable manner. Two hours — the last body has been buried and the mangled sufferers have been carried within the respective lines. A bugle blast gives notice "to whom it may con- cern" — and it concerns them all — that the truce is ended. The soldiers of the opposing armies shake hands, speak kind words of parting, and soon disappear behind the intrenchments. No one has feared to go unarmed among his enemies, for lost to honor indeed is that soldier who would violate the faith of a truce. Few graver offenses are known to military law. Now the dove of peace, whose white wings for a little time have fluttered above the hostile legions, flies sadlj away, as the soldiers buckle on again their warlike trap- pings and seize their muskets. There is a blazing line be- neath the head-logs and the killing and maiming goes on as before. Perhaps at the first shot one may send a his- sing bullet through the brain of him whose hand but a moment ago he took in friend!}' parting. Such is war ! Night falls, and once more the din is hushed. A band of the Union army — for the music has not all been sent to the rear — goes to the trenches and plays "The Star Spangled Banner." The soldiers wave their caps and rill the air MUSIC IN THE TRENCHES. 655 •with a tremendous chorus of shouts and cheers. All is quiet "over the way" until the echoes have ceased, and then a Confederate band strikes up the lively cadences of "Dixie," and it is theirturnto yell. The "Johnnies " make the most of the opportunity, striving to dwarf the Union cheers by the volume of sound that conies from their lusty lungs. All is still again, and the stirring strains of the "Red, White and Blue" are heard. This arouses afresh the patriotic ardor of the Union soldiers and they shout louder and longer than before. Then upon the other side is heard the "Bonnie Blue Flag," and the men in gray, who have sung it a thousand times in camp and on the march, almost split their throats with responsive yells. The next number in the impromptu program is "John Brown's Body," which the band plays defiantly. When it is finished thousands of blue-coated soldiers join in sing- ing, with all the power they can command : "Weil hang Jeff Davis on a sour-apple tree." This has an inflammatory effect, and the crack of mus- kets and sputtering volley of bullets clearh^ show the dis- favor with which half the audience receives this selection. The balls go high, as if only intended to evince disapproval. The singers seize their guns and send back a hailstorm of lead in reply. "Say, Johnny," shouts one at the top of his voice — for the strongly fortified lines are so near that his words can reach — "That makes us squar'. Now let up on shootin' and don't spile the concert ! " "All right, Yank," was the reply, "but yer don't want ter be givin' us no more o' that dog-goned slush. We didn't 'low to hit ye, but ef ye sing that ag'in we'll aim low next time! " The Confederate band responds with " My Maryland," and the soldiers sing : " The despot's heel is on thj- shore, Maryland, m3- Maryland." 65fc> ONCE MORE TO THE BREACH. After the rebels have yelled sufficiently over this popular southern song, peace and good feeling are restored by the tender chords of "Annie Laurie" from the band in the Union trenches. The other meets it, in the same spirit, with **Auld Lang Syne, "and the men of both armies cheer. Then follow, the bands playing alternately, "Bowld Soger Boy," "Comin' thro* the R^'^e," "When Johnny Comes March- ing Home," "Old Kentucky Home," "Way Down upon the SuwaneeRiber" and "NellieGray." "Music hath charms" to soften even the asperities of "grim visaged war," and thousands of hearts are moved as both bands unite in "Home, Sweet Home." But for the darkness we might see many a swarthy and battle-scarred veteran dash away a tear with the rough sleeve of his blouse. With tender, passionate thoughts cf far-off loved ones the soldiers stretch themselves upon the ground, their muskets beside them, save those who are to keep vigil at the works and upon the lonely outposts. There came a day when the soldiers of the 200th Indi- ana looked for the last time into the blazing muzzles of the rebel guns. The long campaign — and the war in that de- partment of the army — closed with a defeat of the enemy, so crushing and overwhelming that recovery from the blow was impossible. When the dispositions wcx«" made for the last grand assault upon the Confederate lines, the duty of carrying a strong fort at an important point was assigned to the brigade to which the 200th Indiana belonged. Whilewait- ng for the final word of command the troops lay down in line, covered by their intrenchments. The cannon that had long been bellowing through the embrasures of the fort were silent, and those who manned them seemed to be gath- ering strength to meet the expected shock. No sound of tausket was heard, except an occasional exchange of shots on the picket-line. It was the calm before the bursting of the storm. "war 's mighty satisfyin'." 657 Only a fragment of the 200th remained. Of the thou- sand men with which it took the field, scarcely a hundred were now in its ranks. Of these many bore the honorable scars of battle. The graves of its dead thickly dotted the fiery and devious path it had so painfully traveled. Hun- dreds, disabled by wounds and wasting disease, no longer answered to their names at roll-call. The regiment had done its duty faithfully and well. Often tried in war's fiercest crucible, its name had never been tarnished by dis- honor. Its record was without spot, and its shrunken line was a silent yet most eloquent testimonial to its valor. The dauntless heroes looked gravely into one another's faces as they lay there, ready as ever to leap into the vor- tex of the conflict, with ears strained to catch the order to advance. There was an undefined feelingthat the end was near at hand. To pass safely through the years of blood and fall at the last, in the hour of victory', seemed a cruel fate. Yet to many of those soon to face the belching guns of the fort but a few minutes of life remained. Who would go down before the crimson sickle that was again to be thrust into the thinned ranks? Who would once more come out unscathed, and still live to maintain the honor of that faded and riven flag? "Shorty," said Si, "I can't help feelin' 't I'll be mighty glad when the war 's over. Ye know well 'nuff I don't mean 't I want ter quit till His over; but 'pears ter me 's though everybody, north 'n' south, them 't 's sol- jerin' 'n' them 't 's to hum, must be gittin' 'bout 's much on it 's they kin stand, I know 't what I've had '11 last me 'f I sh'd live ter be 's old 's Methuzelum." "Mebbe ye hain't fergot," replied Shorty, "what I used ter say to ye 'long at fust, when ye was so fierce ter git inter a fight. Ye know I told ye 't ye'd git filled up 'fore ye got through. War 's mighty satisfyin' — a leetle on 't goes a good ways — 'n' 't don't take long ter kindei use up 658 THE RUSH FOR THE FORT. a feller's liankerin' arter it. I reck'n ye'll think more o' yer home, when ye git thar, 'n ye ever did afore." " YouWe got ter go home 'long 'th me when we gits dis- charged. It sort o' runs 'n my head 't the rebils is losin' theV grip 'n' they '11 let go one o' these days. I want ye ter come ter the old farm 'n' stay jest 's long 's ever ye' re a mind ter. Ye know I'm yer superior ossifer 'n' when I tells ye ter do a thing ye have ter do it. But I'll be glad when this fight terday 's over." "It'll be time 'nough when the war does peter out ter figger on what we're goin' ter do then," replied Shorty. "We ain't out o' the woods yet, 'n' mebbe — " A bugle blast, sharp and clear, brings every man to his feet. "Now, my brave men," shouts the colonel, "we're going into that fort ; follow me ! " The soldiers leap over their intrenchments and with loud cheers dash forward. There is not a straggler; all such have long since disappeared from the ranks of the 200th. Those within the fort send up a defiant yell. The guns have been double-shotted, and at each stands a man with the lanyard in his hand. As the assailants come within range there is a roar that makes the earth tremble. Vol- umes of flame and smoke burst from the embrasures and a tempest of canister sweeps the charging line. Before that withering blast many a gallant hero falls. The ground is thickly strewn with the dead and wounded. "Forward! " No need to give command, for save those who are stricken down not a man falters. Muskets blaze along the hostile line and bullets sing their death-song. Fast as men can reload, cannon and musket send forth their fiery breath. The 200th Indiana leads the brigade in the onwaid rush. Comrades fall at every step. Each instant of time is precious, for in a few minutes none will be left. Tl"- ranks are thin and ragged but they sweep on with no ON TO THE CREST. 659 thought but of the goal. Close upon the heels of the 200th press those of the other regiments whom the storm of missiles has spared, xying with one another to first scale the wall of the fort. Often a flag goes down as its bearer falls, but it is instantly seized and borne proudly aloft, as the men, with loud shouts, fairly leap along the ground. Blood is streaming from some who, wounded but not dis- abled, push on with their brave comrades. Now they reach the abattis of stakes and brushwood. Some have brought axes, and under the withering fire from the fort they cut and slash, while their comrades at intervals wrench aw^ay the obstructions. Through the gaps they rush, and down into the deep trench that sur- rounds the fortification. Now they are below the range of the enemy's guns, but shells with hissing fuses are tossed over the parapet to burst among the panting, struggling soldiers in the ditch. The assailants cannot stop here. Retreat or surrender they will not ; but is it possible for them to advance further ? Quick as thought some mount the shoulders of others and clamber upon the bank. Then these seize their com- rades by the hands and pull them up. One more dash and the question of success or failure will in a moment be solved. They sweep up the steep side of the fort. Some, pierced by angry bullets, roll down among those who lie mangled, dead or dying, in the ditch below. Has Corporal Klegg escaped the bloody havoc of the conflict ? Has he been found wanting in this supreme-test of human courage? Ah, there he is, among the foremost, far up the blood-stained slope. His garments have been torn by the swift missiles and his hat is gone. As he nears the crest he turns for an instant and shouts a word of en- couragement to those w^ho are toiling up the bank. Not one is less brave than he among all the officers and men in that devoted band. At the same instant a score gain the summit and leap 660 WHERE IS SHOKTl ? into the very arms of the foe. A moment, and fifty — a hundred more, have followed, and the reserves are swarm- ing over the crest. Musk'.cs are discharged with deadly effect and cruel baj^onets are plunged into quivering bodies. Shouts, groans and mad yells and curses are commingled in hideous uproar. The onslaught is irresistible. The Confederates fling down their arms and yield themselves prisoners or seek to escape by flight. With wild shouts of triumph the vic- torious soldiers pursue the fleeing enemy. At other points the long Confederate line has been broken and the entire hostile army is in complete rout. Dozens of cannon and battle-flags are taken, and prisoners by hundreds and thousands. The triumphant soldiers, with prodigious yells, keep up the pursuit until many fall to the ground in utter exhaustion. After entering the fort Si had missed his faithful comrade, but in the all-absorbing rush and excitement there had been no opportunity to look for him or inquire after his welfare. Shorty was at his side when the 200th Indiana charged over the open ground and up to the abattis. He was sure that they must have been separated in the wild con- fusion, and that he would find his pard when the fight was over. As soon as the regiment halted Si began to look about and to ask, with constantly increasing anxiety, for tidings of his friend. No one knew what had become of Shorty. A detail was sent back to the fort to look after the dead and wounded. Si eagerly volunteered for this duty, that he might search for his friend who, if a brother, could not have been more dear to him. He felt a keen pang at the thought that perhaps the one who had so long been his constant companion wa,s lying — dead, or wounded and suffering. No ; it could not, it must not be ! How his heart throbbed as his hurrying feet neared the scene of the dread- ful struggle ! si's search for his pard. 661 Within the fort lay bodies of friend and foe, where thej had fallen in the strife for the mastery. Si went from one to another of those clad in blue, looking upon the dis- torted and discolored features, now and then gently turn ing one that la^- with face hidden. Here and there he recognized, wnth tear-dimmed eyes, a brave comrade who had gone down before the blast of death, but the one he sought was not there. "Won't somebody give me a drink of water ! " It was a brave boy of Company Q, who lay with a shat- tered leg, beside one of the guns. Si dropped upon his knees and placed his canteen to the parched lips. "Thank ye. Si," said the sufferer, "that makes me feel better. Didn't we go for 'em ?" "We did, fer a fact !" replied Si, as he picked up a blanket and placed it under the head of his comrade. "Jest be quiet a bit 'n' we'll take care on ye. But — do ye know anything 'bout — Shorty? I hain't seen him — sence the figiit." "I can't tell ye where he is. He helped me to climb out o' the ditch, an' that 's the last I seen of him. I hope, fer your sake, pard, he didn't git hurt." Si passed over the wall of the fort and down the slope, examining the motionless forms that lay about, but he did not find the missing one. The pain that was growing in his heart found relief for an instant in the thought that Shorty might be a prisoner. But he remembered that in such a fight it was scarcely possible for them to lose by capture, and the burden of anxious fear lay heavy uj^on him as he leaped into the ditch to continue the sad search. The dead and the desperately wounded lay thickly here. The earth was crimsoned by the streams that had flowed from heroes' veins. Si had not long to look. There are many survivors of the war who can appreciate — for such arrows pierced t/?e/r hearts — the bitter anguish that thrilled him as his eyes fell upon the face and form of his prostrate 662 THE PULSE IS FOREVER STILL. comrade. There was no sound nor movement to give sign of life. The clothing was reddened with blood. ** Shorty! " he said, convulsiveW, as he knelt beside him, clasping in one of his own the nerveles'^ hand that lay across the breast, and with the other pressing the clammy forehead. "Shorty!" he repeated, in tremulous tones thatconveyed a wealth of tenderness and affection, "can't ye speak a word to me, pard ? Can t ye jest open yer ej^es 'n' look at me?" Tears flowed unchecked down the face of Si, as he pressed the unresponding hand, and gently smoothed the face of his comrade The feebly fluttering pulse told that the spark of life had not 3^et gone out. The warm, tender touch revived the dying soldier. He opened his e\^es, already dimmed b}- the film of death. He gazed into the face of Si and a faint smile of recognition lighted up the pallor upon brow and cheek. His lips moved as if he would speak, but no sound reached Si's straining ear. "Dear Shorty" — and Si's words came heavily as the tears flowed afresh — "ye mustn't die! Don't leave me, pard ! Here, take a drink out o' my canteen." "Si," said Shorty, in a slow, feeble whisper, ''did — we — get— the— fort?" "Course we did," replied Si, "I knew we would when we started fer it. Now I want ye ter cheer up 'n' we'll git ye out o' here. Ye've got ter git well o' this ! " His comrade had recognized and spoken to him, and Si's heart throbbed with a brief happiness, born of the hope that Shorty would not die. But even then the eyes had closed to open not again, and the pulse was forever still. It was some minutes before Si could believe that Shorty was dead. He knelt long beside the lifeless body, clasping the stiffening hand. The realization of his bereavement brought upon his tender heart a crushing weight of grief that he had never known, and that only time could lighten. THE SOLITARY MOURNER. 663 With choking voice SI asked two or three of his comrades to assist him in Hfting Shorty's body out of the ditch. They bore it to a grassy spot, under a spreading tree, which Si chose for his companion's resting-place. "He's mine," said Si, " 'n' 1*11 bury him ! " Procuring a shovel he dug a grave. An unspeakable sadness filled his heart as, with the help of another, he gently wrapped the body in a blanket, and they lowered it into the ground. " I wish ther' was some preacher here," he said, " to say sich a j/h prayer 's Shorty de- J^/w' sarves. 'Tain't a Chris- tian way to kiver him up 'thout nothin' bein' said!" Si hesitated a mo- ment, and then kn-^ beside the open gra and reverently repeati the Lord's prayer. "That's the best I kin; do, ''he said. "Mypard wa'n't a saint, 'cordin' ''' as folks jedges 'em, but I hope God '11 take him up to heaven. If ther 'don't nowuss people 'n' him git thar it '11 be a good 'nuff place fer me! " Then Si softly covered from sight the bod\' of his com- rade. He rudely carved with his knife a piece of board and placed it at the head. It bore the inscription : HE WAS MY PARD. vSHORTY Co Q 200th Ind. HE WAS MY PARD. CHAPTER XLVII. The End Comes at Last, and Si Puts Off the Army Blue. THERE w^as no more fighting for the 200th Indiana. The rebel army whose guns it had so often faced was routed and scattered as no other army had been dur- ing the war. As an aggressive force it had almost passed out of existence. Its torn and battered fragments were gathered and transported to a distant field of operations, but they took small part in the closing events of the mighty struggle. For some months the 200th was engaged in lazily guard- ing the railroads against imaginary foes, moving about from place to place, seemingly with no other purpose than to promote digestion. Si grieved long and sorely over the death of Shorty. The sorrow of a bereaved husband or wife w^as nevermore sincere and poignant than that of Corporal Klegg for his heroic and helpful pard. He did not realize until he was gone how much he had leaned upon Shorty, and how he had been strengthened and comforted, through trial and suffer- ing, by the companionship. For a time he was inconsola- ble, but the passing weeks and months gently assuaged the bitterness of his affliction. There were few of his comrades who had not also been called to mourn the death of those near and dear, and he knew it was the part of a good soldier to bear with resignation the manifold trials that fell to his lot. Gradually his wonted cheerfulness returned, 664 THE CEDAR FIRE. ^^^ bat faithfulness to the memory of Shorty would not per- ^Tthim to seek another "pard." It seemed to hun sa - rikge-as when Hymen elasps new ties over a freshly made J^ave The daily round of duty in eamp and the ehang- L seene. of the mareh diverted his mindfrom h,s bereave- "fnt. but he never sat down to his coffee and craekers, or Xd himself in his blanket at night, w.thout a lonely , feeling that clouded his heart with sadness Oneeveningthe members of thehttle bandthatremamed of the 200th Indiana were gathered around the blaz.ng camp-fires. Dry cedar rails were plenty and there was no rest aint upon their use. The fangs of the orders ag^mst fora^^ing had long since been drawn, and hose once sonorous proclamations lay idle and meamngless m the order-books of the generals. ,-,,,„ Cedar rails were the soldier's favorite fuel, particularly when the weather was cool and a quick, warm fire was wanted . Nothing else responded to the match so promptly and furiously, with a roaring bla.e that speedily tempered the chilliest air, and diffused comfort and cheer throughout the camp. The only fault of the cedar fire was the con- stant cracking and snapping, almost as loud as a volley of pistol shots, that scattered the glowing coals over a raiiU of manv feet. Millions of holes were burned m clothing, blankets and tents during the war by the sparks and bluing fragments that shot from heaps of cedar rails^ But this annoving characteristic was freely forgiven and when going into bivouac on a cold or stormy night, the soldiers pitched their yells in a higher key if they found that the adjacent fences were of cedar. On the evening in question the men piled high the crack- ling fires and circled around them in fine spirits. They had potatoes and chickens galore, for that >^ect,on of country had not been overrun and devastated by the hostile armies, and many of the boys had recently received from the North a fresh supply of "fac-sim.le money. This 666 FLUSH TIMES WITH THE BOYS. was simply counterfeit Confederate currency. Perhaps it could scarcely be called "counterfeit, "in the sense in which the word is usually applied to spurious money, for it was intrinsically worth as much — a cent a pound for old paper ^— as was the so-called money of the alleged Southern Con- federacy. The "fac-simile" bills, in denominations of from ■five to five hundred dollars, were printed in prodigious quan- tities by enterprising men in the North, and sold at the rate of about twenty-five cents for a thousand "dollars." It was a fairimitation of the cheap and poorly engraved stuff that was issued by the government at Richmond. Bushels and bushels of the counterfeit bills were sent down to the army and found a ready market among the soldiers, few of whom were disturbed in their seared and leathery con- sciences. If they argued the cjuestion at all, they had no difiiculty in making themselves believe that it was as valuable as the genuine Confederate "money." It was largely used to lubricate the wheels of trade with ignorant whites and negroes, for chickens, milk, vegeta- bles and other "truck." A soldier with his pockets stuffed with "fac-simile" was a millionaire, and cared nothing for expense, squandering his pelf with the greatest prodigality. He would freely give twenty dollars for a canteen of milk, or a hundred for a fowl ; while the guileless people who re- ceived such enormous prices were deluded with the belief that they were accumulating wealth at a bewildering rate, and would soon become bloated aristocrats. No doubt, judged from a high moral plane, this practice could not have been commended, but the need of chickens was urgent, and the boys thought they could "buy" them with less friction than to steal them. If there was a hitch in trade because a citizen objected to taking "fac- simi/ee," as he called it, another soldier was promptly at hand with a supply of what he said was genuine Confeder- ate money, and this was likely to be satisfactory, as only an expert could detect the difference. Frequently actual AN EVENING "OFF, 667 Confederate currency was captured in considerable quan- tities and was diffused among the troops. This and the '*fac-simile" were largely used in the game of poker. Fabulous sums were staked with a recklessness that re* calls ante-bellum days on the Mississippi. Seated around the snapping fires, the men of the 200th Indiana abandoned themselves to jest and laugh and song. They told stories and recounted many an incident, gay or sad, of their life in the tented field. They exhausted the AROUND THE CAMP-FIRE. repertoire of army songs. It may well be imagined that they sang "with the spirit and with the understanding also, "such selections as "Just Before the Battle, Mother,'' "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching," "When this Cruel War is Over,'' "Kingdom Coming," "W^ake, Nicodemus," "Battle Cry of Freedom," and a score oi others. Then came those rollicking songs which were indigenous to the arm\'. They were, in spots, glaringW defective in sense, rh^-me ar.d meter, but they were familiar to ever\ 668 THE ARMY SONGS. soldier, from Virginia to Texas. "Dixie" was parodied, beginning in this way : I wish I was in de land ob cotton, Cinnamon seeds and sandy bottom, Look awa3^, look away, look aw^ay to Dixie land. An epitome of the four years of war was given in the following verses — varying somewhat in different parts of the army — which went galloping to the tune "When Johnny Comes Marching Home." The terse statements of fact contained in this song cannot be questioned, how^ever much the reader may dissent from the convivial sentiments in the closing lines of each verse : In eighteen hundred and sixty-one, Free-ball '. Free-ball ! In eighteen hundred and sixty-one. Free-ball ! Free-ball ! [n eighteen hundred and sixty-one, The war had then but just begun; And we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny, fill up the bowl! In eighteen hundred and sixty -two, Free-ball ! Free-ball ! In eighteen hundred and sixty-tw^o, Free-ball ! Free-ball ! In eighteen hundred and sixty-tw^o, They first began to put us through, And we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny, fill up the bowl ! In eighteen hundred and sixty-three, Free-ball ! Free-ball ! In eighteen hundred and sixty-three, Free-ball ! Free-ball ! In eighteen hundred and sixty-three, Abe Lincoln set the niggers free ; And we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny, fill up the bowl! In eighteen himdred and sixty-four, Free-ball ! Free-ball ! In eighteen hundred and sixty-four, Free-ball ! Free-ball ! "free and easy." 66^ In eighteen hundred and sixty-four We all went in for three A-ears more; And we'll all drink stone blind, Johnny, fill up the bowl! There was another, decidedly bacchanalian in its char- acter, but which was not as bad as it seems — that is to say, it was often sung with great apparent relish by whole companies when in a condition of most praiseworthy sobriety, and by many who never— in or out of the army, on "Saturday night" or at any other time — for a moment thought of enforcing the "right" so vehemently declared in the opening lines. The first part was sung to the ap- propriate tune "We Won't go Home till Morning, "switch- ing oflF to ' ' America " at " So say we all of us : " And every Saturday night, sir. We think we have a right, sir. To get most gloriously tight, sir, To drive dull care away ! To drive dull care away. To drive dull care away. It's a way that we have in the army. It's a way that we have in the army. It's a way that we have in the army To drive dull care away ! So say we all of us. So say we all of us. So say we all. So say we all of us. So say we all of us, So say we all of us, So sa3' we all. To ^ursory reader there ma\'' seem to be an unneces sary amount of repetition in this, but the words were so easily remembered that all could sing it after once hearing it; and besides the iteration gave an emphasis to the propositions that at once silenced all cavil. By the time the soldiers got through singing it, "all of us" were fully g.greed . It was late when the last song that anybody could think 670 THE LAST "long ROLL." of had been sung. The tension of strict discipHne was somewhat relaxed, and more latitude was permitted than when in a campaign against the enemy. At length, when the oft-replenished fires had burned to embers, the men knocked the ashes from their pipes, crept into their " pup " tents and lay down. An hour passed, and all save the guards were in deep sleep. Suddenly the sharp rattle of the long rolf was heard, mingled with the blast of bugles, as one after an- other took up the alarm. And such a long roll it was! The drummers pounded as if for their lives, and the buglers blew their most piercing notes. The startled soldiers came tumbling out of their tents, dragging their muskets after them and buckling on their accouterments as they ran. In half a minute the com- panies were formed and were hurrying at a double-quick out to the color-line. It was a moonless night, and the darkness of the oak wood was but feebly dispelled by the flickering light of the smoldering fires. Everybody won- dered what was the matter. It had been supposed that there was no armed force of the enemy within a hundred miles, but the only thought suggested by the wild alarm was that an attack was imminent. Every ear was strained to catch the sound of shots on the picket-line, but nothing was heard save the turmoil of the assembling troops, and the hoarse voices of the officers as they gave the necessary commands. It was a moment of anxious suspense. An orderly from brigade headquarters dashed up and handed a message to the colonel of the 200th Indiana, who read it by the dim light of a fagot. LeajDing high in the air he gave a yell that an Apache chief might strive in vain to rival. The men thought he had gone crazy. When he came down he discharged another yell, and then hand- ing the paper to the wondering adjutant told him to read it to the regiment. The adjutant glanced at it and yelled A FOREST FULL OF LUNATICS. 671 a duet with the colonel. Then he read an official copy of a telegram from the secretary of war, announcing THE SURRENDER OF LEE's ARMY. If the inmates of a score of lunatic asylums had been suddenly turned loose in those Tennessee woods the scene could not have been more ragingl^v tempestuous than that which followed the reading of this dispatch. Officers and men danced and hugged one another and shouted and yelled, rending the air with every kind of sound within the <;ompass of human voices well practiced in the making of noises. These men had done a good deal of yelling before, but never anything that could be compared to this hideous din. When the noise had partially subsided, from sheer ex- haustion of the vocal forces, the soldiers began to cast about for other means to continue the racket. It mattered little what it was — the more discordant the better — only so thatit helped to swell the unearthly chorus. The}- tramped about beating furiously with sticks and stones all the camp-kettles and tin pans and cans that the camp afforded. All the brass bands in the division were playing but no- body could distinguish a tune. On all sides were heard the shriek of fifes and rattle of drums, and the buglers almost blew their heads off in their efforts to contribute to the prodigious uproar. One regiment after another be- gan to fire muskets. The men took the cartridges from their boxes, poured in the powder, rammed down the paper for wadding and blazed away. The balls the\' threw upon the ground ; there was no further use for them. The artillery opened, and battery after battery sent forth its thunders to echo amongthe mountains. The fires, heaped with wood, blazed high and the forest \vas aglow. Men did ever3^thing imaginable that was grotesque and ridiculous. They climbed trees and yelled from the branches; they made heroic speeches fron:> logs and stumps; 672 ADDING FUEL TO I'HE FLAME. they turned tlieir garments inside out ; they rode one an- other on poles — and all the time yelling like maniacs. Then there came an order from the general commanding for the issue of a double ration of "commissary" to all the soldiers. Many excellent people would no doubt say that this was a highly reprehensible thing for the general to do. Probabl}^ it w^as, and the men ought to have poured it upon the ground instead of down their throats- -but the_> didn't. This was before the days of the temperance crusade, and the provocation was extraordinary. If there ever was, since the world was created, a valid excuse for a tem- porary lapse from sobriety, that occasion furnished it. Years of toiling and suffering such as others know not; of w^eary marches and lonely vigils, in summer's heat and winter's storm ; of facing the cruel missiles of war, amidst scenes of death and human anguish ; years that had thinned regiments of a thousand men down to a hundred — all were past, the end had come, and before the eyes of those scarred and war-worn veterans were blessed pictures of peace and home. It is not possible for mortal man, ex- cept he w^as one of them, to understand and appreciate the thoughts that filled their hearts. Is it any w^onder that they indulged in these wald and extravagant demonstra- tions of joy? Above personal feeling were the conscious- ness of victory at last, after all the blood and wretched- ness, and the patriotic rejoicing over a nation saved by their valor and sacrifices. Let him who would cast a stone at those who behaved so boisterously that night, be sure that he would not have made a fool of himself for the time being, had he been there. At the brigade headquarters a horse-bucket full of egg- nog was made, and the general and his staff indulged in copious libations. After several "rounds" they sallied forth, took possession of the instruments of the band, and formed for a parade through the camp. The general headed the procession with the bass drum, which he TIDINGS THAT MADE SAD HEARTS. 67.; pounded so furiously that he broke in the heads. The staff officers blew ear-splitting blasts upon the horns tliej carried. As the j marched around, regimental and company officers and hundreds of soldiers fell in behind, until the column of howling lunatics was a quarter of a mile long. All night the "jamboree " was continued, and the morning sun looked upon hundreds still engaged in "celebrating," with unflagging zeal.* The next day came the bale- ful tidings that President Lin- coln had been as- sassinated. The revulsion of feel- ing cannot be de- scribed. Thou- sands of strong men, whose eyes had long been unused to tears, wept like chil- dren when the news, which they at first refused to believe, was fully leading the jamroree. confirmed, and they knew that "Father Abraham," whose name had been a thousand times upon their lips, in song and story, had been stricken down by the hand of a murderer. * The foregoing is a feeble description of a scene in the camp of the Fourth Corps, in which the -writer participated to the utmost of his lung power, on that memorable night in April, 1S65. There are yet manj' liv- ing who will testify to the fact that the picture here drawn falls far short of the reality. 674 THE 200TH INDIANA DISCriARGED. A few weeks later the remnant of the 200th Indiana was ordered to be discharged. At the capital of the state the survivors were paid and mustered out of the service. The tattered and faded flags of the regiment were deposited in the State House, and the men who had so grandly followed them were feasted and honored by a grateful people. Few of the discharged veterans went home with their "soldier clothes "on. Nearlyall bought comjolete outfits of citizen's garb, discarding the blue garments that they had so long and honorably worn, but \vhich they hoped never to put on again. Si Klegg was not yet of age. His tanned face bore abundant' testi- mony to his long ex- posure to the elements, but when he was shorn and shaven, and array- ed in a new suit of clothes -vv'ith all the trimmings, he was as fine-appearing a fello-w as one could wish to AFTER A VISIT TO THE TAILOR. scc. A grcat happiucss filled his breast when those of the little squad that re- mained of Compan}^ left for home. The parting was not without sadness, for few ties on earth are as strong as those that bind the hearts of men who so long marched and fought and suffered together. But he was going home, conscious that he had acted well his part, and had done what one man could to bring the final victory. Si Klegg was but an atom of the mighty army; but it was the united efforts and sacrifices of a million such as he that COMPANY O'S WELCOME HOME. 675 overthrew the rebellion anc* saved the nation from dis- memberment. The "Company boys" received an overpowering wel- come at home. The people of the village and from the adjacent country turned out en masse to greet them as they alighted from the train. Farmer Klegg and his wife and Maria, proud and eager, were there; and joj^ful tears flowed unchecked as thc}^ twined their arms around son and brother and pressed him to their beating hearts. An- nabel was there, with moist e^-es and a flush upon her soft cheek. Si had growii brave now, and as soon as the famih' embrace relaxed he advanced and put his arms around her as unflinchingly as if she had been a rebel battery. Tumultuous cheers rent the air, the band pla\^ed and banners waved in honor of the soldiers returned from the war. A sumptuous dinner was served to them inthetown- hall, and the village orators exhausted their eloquence in giving them welcome and glorif)'ing their deeds of valor. By the time the speakers got through, the veterans were pretty w^ell convinced that if it had not been for Com- pany Q the war would have been a failure — on the Union side. Then the bo^^s \vere taken in charge by their respective friends. In anticipation of Si's return, his mother and sister had for da3's done little except cook, and he found himself in a land flowing with milk and honey. That night Si had the "best bed " in the house. As he threw himself upon it he sank down in a sea of feathers that almost covered him. Of course he could not sleep in such a bed, and in the morning, when his mother went to call him to breakfast, she was amazed to find him lying on the floor. "Tell ye what 'tis, mother," he said, "I didn't like ter go back on yer nice bed, but 'twa'n't no use. I swum 'round 'n them feathers purty much all night, but I 676 "the 'union' forever." couldn't git ter sleep t'll I bunked down on the floor. That's a leetle more like the beds I slep' on 'n the army. I b'lieve t'night I'll rig up a pup-tent, put down some rails ter lie on, 'n' take mj old U. S. blanket 'n' crawl in. Then ef you 'n' father 'n' Marier '11 jest git a gun apiece 'n' keep shootin' purty cluss to me all night, I kin git a good squar' sleep." CHAPTER XLVIII. Si Finds it Much Easier to Get Married than to Get a Pension. IT is scarcely necessary to say that Si Klegg and Annabel were soon "mustered in." Thc}^ fell early victims to the malignant connubial epidemic that devastated the ranks of the soldiers and sweethearts for two or three years immediately following the war. The parents of both thought they were "ower young to marry yet," but their feeble opposition on this score quickly melted away before the fierce heat of affection's fires in those j'oung hearts. So parental objections were waived and there was a wedding. Most of the voung soldiers began, as soon as thev were discharged, to think about getting married. They had fairly earned the right to enjoy the pleasures of wedded life, under their own vines and fig trees. They seemed to have little difficulty in finding "pards," and everywhere was heard a joyous chorus of marriage-bells. During his last year or two in the arni}^ Si had had fe\v dealings with the sutler, and had strictly kept his promise to Shorty not to play "chuck-a-luck," so that with his vet- eran and local bounties he managed to save a few hundred SI BECOMES A "COLONEL." 677 dollars. This sum, comfortably augmented by marriage portions, enabled him to buy a small farm, on which he and Annabel entered upon a quiet and uneventful life. Si was more fortunate in this respect than thousands of his fellow-soldiers who — even though not impaired in iiealth or disabled by wounds — found themselves thrown upon their own resources, at a great disadvantage as compared with those who had remained at home. They had given years to the service of their country, just at the age when they would otherwise have been fitting themselves by education and business training to fight their way in the scramble for position and wealth; and now their previous plans were deranged or wholly broken up. Promotion was much more rapid in civil life, after the war, than in the army. People soon began to call Si "Captain," then "Major,"' and in a year or two he was addressed as "Colonel." This galloping advancement in rank was ver}^ general, until there seemed to be no privates or corporals left. A stranger would have supposed that the enlisted men were all killed in the w^ar, or that the army w^as made up in accordance with the suggestion of the late " Artemus Ward," who, in 1861, proposed to or- ganize a company composed entirely of brigadier-generals. For a time after laying off his uniform Si Klegg had the feeling- common to the disbanded volunteers — the verv sight of blue clothes was hateful to him. He was thoroughly disgusted with "soldiering" and tired of the war; he never wanted to hear of it again. But as the years passed on memory recalled with constantly increasing vividness the scenes of the past, and awakened in his heart a yearn- ing to once more grasp the hands and look into the faces of his old comrades — those who marched by his side, and with whom he touched elbows as the 200th Indiana faced the battle storm. A few of his fellow-soldiers of Company Q had remained in the neighborhood, but nearly all the members of the reg^iment were scattered to the four winds. 678 A REUNION OF THE 200TH. Si was rejoiced one clay when he saw a call for a reuniofS of the survivors of the 200th. His work was pressing, but he told his wife that the farm would have to run itself for two or three days; he was going to that reunion if they had to live on hardtack and — bacon all winter. He told Annabel that she and the children must go, too — for by this time there was a thriving crop of infantry that gave promise of being ready for the next war. So they all went to the reunion. The veterans ^^; ' , ^^ came from far and •A ^^^iifi^l^l;/ A,"% . 1 near,respondingto the summons as promptly as they did so many times when drum and bu- gle called them to duty. Tears moist- ened their eyes as thc}^ met again and clasped one another in their sturdy arms. The veterans sang the old war songs and fought their battles over around the camp- fire, and their wives and children en- joyed it almost as much as they did. Some of those who never smelt powder or heard a bullet whistle told the biggest stories — just as they have been doing at every gathering of soldiers since the war. Strident ora- tors, whose courage never rose to the point of enlistment, at all — of that class aptly described as " invincible in peace, invisible in war" — talked long and vehemently, trying to THE NEW CROP OF INFANTRY. "CATCHING THE SOLDIER VOTE." 679 instruct the old-soldiers in lessons of patriotism and valor. The "boys" — for so they still called one another — had such a good time, that with a tremendous and unanimous "aj^e" they voted to hold a reunion every year. These meetings bound together even more closely than before the hearts of the comrades. The war had not long been over until the politicians, irrespective of party, began to bait their hooks to "catch the soldier vote." Emment patriots, who, yielding to the importunities of their fe'dow-citizens, had consented to be- come candidates for office, often called around to see "Colonel " Klegg and secure, if possible, his ballot and his influence in their behalf They talked grandly of their love and admiration for the brave defenders of the flag, and made picturesque promises what they would do for those who so faithfully served their country. These promises were usually forgotten as soon as the polls closed on election day; nor were they recalled by these men with defective memories until another political campaign made it neces- sary to scratch around again for votes. Si felt a laudable interest in the welfare of his country'-, and like a good citizen he marched in torchlight processions and yelled himself hoarse at mass-meetings and barbecues. He swung his hat and shouted when the election returns showed majori- ties for his side; and when the other fellows came out ahead he mourned because the country was "going to the dogs," and he had fought and bled in vain. But the ship of state kept on her course just the same, and he found it really made little difference which political party was at the helm. Not one in ten thousand of the two and a half million men, who so promptly responded to their country's call in the day of her calamity, paused to inquire whether he would be pensioned in case he should be disabled bv wounds or disease. When Si Klegg signed the roll of Company Q he did not even know what a pension was.. 680 SI THINKS ABOUT A PENSION, He knew only that the government needed his services, and he offered them freely, without a thought of t!i2 future. Si came out of the war in good condition, so far as surface indications went. His physical vigor was seem- ingly unimpaired, and his friends said his army life had " made a man of him." His wound had not disabled him, although it continued to give him trouble at times. As long as he was able to make his way in the world he refused to entertain the idea of being a pensioner. But as the years went by he began to grow prematurely old — as did nineteen out of every twenty men who endured so much. Every now and then Congress passed some new pension bill, and each enactment was closelj^ followed by a bombardment of circulars from three or four dozen attor- neys, in all parts of the country, assuring Si that he was entitled to its benefits, and offering to undertake his case for a consideration. At length he began to think about it in a serious way. He heard a good deal about the over- flowing vaults of the United States treasury. The govern- ment seemed to have more money than it knew what to do with, and Si felt that he had borne an humble part in bringing the country into such a condition of bound- less prosperity. But for the sufferings and sacrifices of such as he the Nation — with a big N — would have long since ceased to exist, and in its stead would have been several little nations, unworthy of capital letters. Wh_y should not the government, rich and prosperous and powerful, secure him and Annabel and the little Kleggs against want, if so be that early decrepitude should result from his years of service in the army ? When Si heard some people grumble because such large amounts were paid each year for pensions, and heard them denounce the soldiers as "coffee coolers," "beggars" and "dead beats," it only awakened in him a feeling of pity for their ignorance and narrow-mindedness. He AND GOES TO SEE AN AGENT. 681 heard such expressions from none except persons who stayed at home during the war, some of whom grew rich out of army contracts. For a time Si Klegg prospered, but at length reverses came. One year a drouth burned up his grain, the next floods drowned it, and the next it was devoured b}^ flies, grasshoppers, locusts and chinch-bugs. Little b}^ little his health gave way. The seeds of disease that were insidi- ously sown during those months and years of exposure to the elements, sprang up and brought forth a crop of ills that in course of time almost unfitted him for manual labor. He began to find it necessary to wear patched clothes. His wife was obliged to "make over "her dresses. The children began to get " out " at the elbows and knees and toes, and when the circus made its periodical visit they had to stay at home, provided they could not crawl under the canvas. Then Si said: "I believe I'm as much entitled to a pension as anybody else, and I'll see see if I can make Uncle Sam think so." He did not then know how dull of comprehension "Uncle Sam" is, sometimes. So one da}^ he drove to a neighboring town to see a pen- sion agent, who had sent him half a bushel of circulars during the previous ten years. From the perusal of these he had come to believe that all he had to do in order to get a pension was to ask for it. "Let's see, "said the agent, briskl}^ "what kind of a case -we can make out for you. Been wounded ? " Si bared his arm and showed him an ugly scar. "Mule kick ? " asked the agent. "No, sir!^^ replied Si, with some asperity. "Piece o' shell, the day the 200th Injianny went up the ridge." "That's good — twenty dollars a month for that. Got any 'rumaticks,' from lying around on the ground? " "Plenty of 'em." "Good again; they're worth ten dollars a month more " 682 HE MAKES AN APPLICATION. By the time they got through with the list of his ail- ments Si began to think he would be a millionaire in a few years. The agent said he was very busy that day but he would give him a blank application to fill out which he promised to forward directly to Washington. When Si got home he thought he would go over and talk with one of his neighbors — a veteran comrade w4io had succeeded in getting his claim through the government "circumlocution office," and was drawing a pension. Si thought his friend's counsel and assistance, based upon his own experience, might be of service in preparing the papers. Together they filled out the application. Si hunted up a magistrate, made oath to it in due form and mailed it to the attorne\^ Then, in the course o. a couple of weeks he began to look for his pension. He thought that a week ought to be abundant time to decide a case so clear as his, and two or three days each way were a liberal allowance for the mails to do their part of the work. But day after day passed and Si heard nothing from Washington. At the end of a month he began to grow fidgety over it, and called again upon his neighbor to ask him what could cause such long delay. The latter, re- membering his own tribtilations, laughed to himself, but was loth to cast a shadow over Si's life by telling him that he would be fortunate if he got his claim through in three or four years. "Better go and see your agent," he said, "mebbe he needs to be stirred up with a sharp stick." So Si took another "day off" and drove over to call upon his attorney. To his dismay he found that his application was lying in a pigeon-hole, not having been sent to Wash- ington yet. The agent said he had forgotten it, in the multiplicity of his business cares. Si gave him "a piece of his mind" — the whole of it, in fact — and the agent prom- ised to lose no time in rushino; it along. WANTED, A "HOSPITAL RECORD." 683 Then Si went home and waited again. As the weeks passed he wrote several times to his attorney asking about it but wnthout ehciting any reply. At length he determined to "blow him up," and wrote that he believed he w^ould take the case out of his hands and try some other agent. Then the agent wrote, telling him with some warmth that he need not expect to crowd matters; the officials at Washington were very leisurely in their waySj and it would probably take him as long to get his pension as it did to earn it. This was discouraging to Si. It seemed to him as though the government cared nothing for him, after it no longer needed his services. But there seemed to be no other way, and he settled himself down for a long job of waiting. Six months later, when he had almost forgotten that he had ever applied for a pension, the post-master Landed him a big letter w^hich he saw at a g'ance was from ni3 attor- ney. His heart gave a great bound, for he was sure that at last his pension had come, and he had no doubt it was a liberal one. With a smile upon his face he tore open the en- velope and found — a lot of blanks, with a demand from the Pension Office for his "hospital record." That evening he went over to see his neighbor about it. "Haven't j^ou got a good hospital record? "the latter in- quired, after Si had showm him the papers. "That 's what I hain't got, pard,*' replied Si. "I never was in the hospital only jest that night arter the fight. I reck'nthedocters had all they could 'tend to 'thoutspendin' no time keepin' records. The gin'ral sent me a furlough the next day and I came home for a spell. All the rest o' the time I was carryin' a musket 'long 'th the rijiment." "That's bad," said his comrade, "but I had the same sort of trouble, myself. The people at Washington take lots of stock m a good hospital record. It helps mightily in getting a pension. A month in a hospital, even if you wa'n't very sick, counts more 'n three years of trampin' an* 684 WHAT SI OUGHT TO HAVE DONE. fightin', at the front. If I ever go into another war I'm going to stub my toe or something, if I can't get hurt any other way, just to get back to the hospital long enough to make a 'record.' Of course we didn't know anything about these things then, but I'll be sharp enough for 'em next time. " All that Si could do was to write a statement that he had no hospital record, and setting forth the reasons why such was the fact. It took six months more for the Pen- sion Bureau to digest this, and then Si got another letter. This time he did not allow his emotions to get the advan- tage of him. He opened it with a vague hope that it had brought him what he wanted, but really finding what he expected — more blanks, and a requisition for further infor- mation. He must get the certificate of the surgeons who dressed his wound, and who treated him at various times for the diseases which resulted in his disability. "I don't know what I'm goin' to do," he said to his neighbor, whom he regarded as his sheet-anchor for advice and assistance. "I never did take much medicine in the army, only jest once 'n a while when me and Shorty wanted to play off from fatigue duty. The doctor that dressed my wound, he moved away, to Patagonia or some- where, a good many years ago, and I don't know any thing about where he is." "You ought to have made him sit right down an' writs; out an affidavit an' swar to it that night, as soon as he got your wound tied up," replied his friend, with a laugh. "I've got a boy growin' up, an' if he ever has to go to war I'll put a big flea in his ear." "I guess that would have been a good thing," said Si, "but the fact is I had my head purty full of somethin' else that night, an' I didn't think of it. But that would 've been a nice place for a doctor to be makin' out papers, wouldn't it— he a-sawin' an' cuttin' legs and arms and the ground covered with men groanin' and dyin' all around MORE AFFIDAVITS. 685 him? It'dbe a fine thing for him to let '::m die and go to makin' out affidavits ! " Acting upon his friend's suggestion Si went again to see his agent, who told him the surgeon's testimony would be valuable, and he had better try and find where he was. During the next few months Si found plenty of amuse- ment for his leisure time in writing to every old member of the 200th Indiana he could hear of, in the hope of get- ting some trace of the lost doctor, squandering an acre of his wheat in stationery and postage-stamps, but without success. He informed his agent, who after a while com- municated the fact to the Commissioner of Pensions. It took the usual time to unwind the red-tape and untie the knots, and then another lot of blanks was sent to Si, with instructions to get the affidavits of his company officers, or of some of his comrades who personally knew? all the circumstances. Again Si called upon his friend. "I don't see," he said, "why them fellers can't b'lieve what IVe told 'em. I don't think anybody 't knows Si Klegg 'd have any idee he'd lie 'bout such a thing and sw'ar to it besides." "Fact is," replied his neighbor, "they think every soldier tells the biggest kind of whoppers, an' every man's affida- vit has to be propped up by a lot more or they won't go a cent on it. You've got to prove that jon ain't lyin'. It 's tough, but you'll find it 's true. ' Tain' t no use to kick agin the United States Government." "But I'm afeard I cant get 'em. One of our officers was killed in that fight when I was wounded, and the other that was there has died sence the war. The pension folks can't get any testimony out o' them unless they're fust- class mejums. I reck'n sperits ain't no good at Washing- ton—leastwise not that kind. All the boys is scattered 'from Dan to Beersheba.' " "I reckon you'd better try an' hunt some of 'em up, if you can't get at any of the officers. It takes two or three 686 INFORMATION WANTED AGAIN. of them that was only soldiers to count as much as cwie officer in giving testimony. I don't believe the boys used to lie in the army any worse than the officers did, but the government seems to think the officers has all got con- verted since the war." Then Si buckled down again to the work of writing let- ters. Many weeks elapsed before he succeeded, but he at length found himself in the possession of an array of affidavits from his old comrades that he was sure ought to satisfy even so insatiable and exacting a person as his Uncle Sam. When he mailed these to his attorney he be- lieved they would settle the matter in short order These affidavits covered h^^s wound and also full}- set forth the hardship and exposure he had endured, which he considered ample to account for the diseased condition of his physi- cal system. With a placid confidence Si patiently awaited the effect of this broadside. By the time another section of his hair had turned gray he heard again from Washington. The envelope did not contain a pension certificate, but a call for more affidavits — of all the doctors who had treated him since his discharge from the army, setting forth his present condition, and why he had permitted his health to fail. He must present a schedule setting forth in detail all the different kinds of medicine he had taken and the quan- tity of each, and what for; ^vitll exemplified copies — to be filed as "exhibits" — of all the prescriptions he had had filled at drug-stores since the war, these to be accom- panied b}' the photographs, autographs and certificates of the clerks who filled them, with affidavits proving their good character for veracity, and whether they were mar- ried or single, and if so, why; also the affidavits of credi- ble persons who actually saw Josiah Klegg take, drink, swallow, gulp, ingurgitate and absorb, all and singular, the doses of such medicine aforesaid alleged to have been by him so taken, drank, swallowed, gulped, ingurgitated "PRIOR SOUNDNESS." . 687 and absorbed ; also he was required to state, to a cer- tainty, the name of the individual who struck the late lamented "Billy Patterson." Si had already laid in a considerable stock of experience with official circumlocution, so that all this did not sur- prise him much. He had ceased to wonder at anything. He did all he could to comply with the requirements, sent on the affidavits — and waited. Months rolled away, and then still another voracious demand. Solomon w^rote in Proverbs: "There are three things that are never satisfied, yea, four things say not, It is enough." If he had written a few jQ3.rs after the Amer- ican civil war he w^ouldhave mentioned five things instead of four which "are never satisfied," and "say not. It is enough." The fifth would have been the United States Pension Bureau. This time it was a call for proof of "prior soundness." Si could not quite comprehend what that meant, and he went over and asked his neighbor. "Why, that means, "said the latter, in reply to Si's ques- tion, "that you've got to prove that you were sound and able-bodied when you entered the service." " Of course I was — sound as a dollar. It 'd be jest wast- in' time to go to provin' that. I never heerd of so much nonsense in all my born days. 'Pears like they think at Washington that all a man wants is to git his pension m time to pay his funeral expenses!" "I agree with jq, comrade, but all the same you have to do it. The government takes it for granted that everv soldier was a weak, puny, sickly thing when he enlisted, and would Have petered out if he hadn't gone to the war." "The 'listin' officer had a doctor there and he examined me from head to foot and said I was in fust-class order." "Oh, /2e didn't know nothing about it, of course; and you was so fierce for going to help save the country that you probably' lied about it — anyhow they think you did, and 688 SI GETS A PENSION AT LAST, you've got to prove that you didn't. You'll have to go back and show that your grandfathers and great-grandfathers died of old age. Then it will be necessary for you to prove that you would not have been taken sick, or bit by a rattle- snake or struck by lightning if you had stayed at home during the war. You see you might have been killed at home, and if so, going to war saved your life and you ought to be very thankful for it. The government supposes it did you a great favor by giving you the opportunity and the privilege of enlisting, and unless you can prove that it didn't there won't be much of a show for you ! " Si had no difficulty in establishing his "prior soundness." The pension authorities could not think of anj-^thing else, reasonable or unreasonable, that could be asked for, so they devoted a few months to sending ''special" agents into the neighborhood, to work "on the sly," and find out Si's reputation and his physical condition, that the Bureau might reach a conclusion as to whether he and his wit- nesses had told the truth or not. At last, five years after he had filed his application, he got word one day from his agent that his pension had been granted. A day or two later he received a letter bearing the trade-mark of the Commissioner of Pensions. Has- tening home he gathered about him his expectant family, broke the seal, and drew out the document that was to raise them to a condition of opulence. He began at the top and read down till he came to the important point. Then they learned that the name of Josiah Klegg, late of Company Q, 200th Indiana Veteran Volunteer Infantry, had been placed on the pension roll at the rate of one dol- lar and seventy-three and three-quarters cents per month! Si looked at his wife and she looked at him, and the chil- dren looked at one another. He read it again. He won- dered if the clerk who filled it out had not made a mistake and left out the word "hundred'' after "one." Then he did some heavv thinking-. BUT IT WILL NOT BUY HIS SALT. 689 **If they'd only put on that other quarter of a cent," he said at length, when he had sufficiently recovered from his amazement so that he could speak, "I wouldn't ha' keered. Looks as though Uncle Sam was about as poor as I am, don't it, wnfe? Let's see" — and Si figured it out — "that '11 be about twenty dollars a year. If I should live a thou- sand years that 'd be twenty thousand dollars ! I wish I could live that long, jest to spite the government. I b'lieve I'll jest send this pension back an' tell 'em I don't want it; and I'll tell 'em that if Uncle Sam 's so hard up he'd better pass 'round the hat an' we'll all chip in to help him out!" Si fully made up his mind to decline the pitiful allowance, and went to see his agent to get his assistance in w^riting a letter that would raise blisters on every department of the government he had fought and bled for. The agent told him he had better hang on to it. True it was not much, and it would take a year's allowance to pay the attorney's fee, but after a while he might get an increase ; or, better yet, perhaps a bill could be got through Congress that would do him justice. After thinking it over Si concluded to reconsider his de- cision. He was favorably impressed with the proposition to try Congress. The Member from that district had often told him — in election campaigns — that he would do any- thing for him that lay in his power. Si had an exalted idea of the Member's influence in the halls of national legislation, and he w^ould see him at once. There w^as to be another election that fall and the Mem- ber was again a candidate. He told Si it ^vas a shame that so worthy a soldier as he should be granted such a beggarU^ pittance, and he would introduce a bill the first day of the next session. So Si "took off his coat," as the politicians say, and labored unceasingly to secure the Member's re-election. The result was in accordance with his wishes, and he threw his hat in the air when the count 690 HE TRIES CONGRESS. of the votes showed a majority for the Moses who was to lead him out of the wilderness. Soon after the opening of the ensuing session of Con- gress Si received a copy of that thrilhng periodical, the Congressional Record. A marked paragraph caught his eye, and wnth a palpitating heart he read that a bill had been introduced " To increase the pension of Josiah Klegg, Company Q, 200th Indiana." This brought happiness to Si's heart. With a suMime faith in the Member's magic power, he had no doubt that the bill would pass in two or three weeks, the vaults of the United States Treasury would be opened, and he would be invited to help himself. But months passed and he heard no more of his bill. He ventured to write to the Congressman about it, and the lat- ter said in reply that he was devoting all his energies to the herculean task of pushing that bill through — in fact he was not doing anything else, giving to it his entire time and attention. Thetruth is that probably he had not thought of the bill since he introduced it. Si believed what the Member told him. He did not know that every 3^ear thousands of such bills were thrown into the hopper of the congressional mill, to cancel campaign obligations, and that not one in twenty of them ever got beyond thecapacious pigeon-holes of the committee -rooms. For five or six years Si watched that bill. When the next election came around the Member called upon Si and pointed with pride to the fact that he had introduced the bill ; if he was elected again he would certainlj^ get it through — and Si "took off his coat " again and yelled for him at the mass- meetings. During this Congress, having re-introduced the bill, the Member shoved it along another peg by getting a favora- ble report from the committee. Si felt greatly encouraged at this, but his hopes fell again when Congress expired and the bill died with it. The work all had to be done over a sain. HIS BILL PASSES BUT IS VETOED. 691 Once more Si helped to swell the Members majority and then the latter determined to see what he could do. By adroit management he contrived to advance the bill rapidly and at length got it before the House. He made a speech on it, which was "the greatest effort of his life," recounting with fervid eloquence the gallant exploits of Corporal Si Klegg, and denouncing the parsimony of the government toward him. The appeal was irresistible, and the bill passed by an overwhelming majority. The Member sent a telegram that filled with joy the hearts of the Klegg family. Feeling that the success of the bill would be a feather in his own cap, and a shining example that would greatly help him in the next election, the Member spared no effort to steer it through the Senate. Securing the interest of the senators from that state, they took hold of the matter and in due time it passed that body. Another telegram went singing over the wires, conveying to Si the glad tidings. A few days later there was another dispatch, which read : "The President has vetoed 3^our bill," and there was woe again. Si received by mail a copy of the message which set forth in elaborate phrase the reasons why executive approval had been withheld. The principal one was that no evidence had been adduced to show that Josiah Klegg did not receive contributory injuries at the hands of the defeated nine, while acting as umpire of a base-ball game. "LIGHTS out! APPENDIX. '^ i ^HIS volume has far outgrown the original purpose of the author. A. He found the subject so fruitful that he became panic-stricken as the pages multiplied, and "threw overboard" much that he intended should have a place. Hundreds of pages could have been added without exhaust- ing the theme, however much so ponderous a volume might have exhausted the patience of the reader. Notwithstanding his disma}' at the size of the book, the writer ventures to add a fe^v pages which will assist 3'oung readers and others, who were not soldiers, to understand the organiza- tion of the army and some features of the service which did not enter into the experience of Corporal Klegg and Shorty. The "veteran " may " skip " this if he chooses, but he will no doubt find something to interest him in the corps badges and bugle calls, which are given hereafter. Since the war there have been many and radical changes in the arms, equipments, tactics and regulations of the United States army. What- ever this book contains applies to the army as it was during the war. The volunteers stood on the same military footing as the soldiers of the regular army. Their treatment and service w^ere in all respects the same, and there was no difference in their courage or fighting abilities. They marched and fought side by side, in honorable rivalry. Theoretically there w^as the same happy state of equality so far as the regular and volunteer officers w^ere concerned ; practically there was usually more or less friction between the two classes. That this should have been so is hardly a cause for wonder. Nothing else can be expected until the millennial dawn, w^hen "The wolf also shall dwell w^ith the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid ; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them." Then there will be no need for either ' ' West Pointers "or volunteers. It is not strange that a regular officer — who if not " to the manner born " was at least bred to it by years of military study and practice — thought he knew more about v^'^ar than one who left the plow, the anvil or the counting- room to buckle on the sword ; and that he chafed and grew restive under the authority of a volunteer who outranked him. The regulars did not comprise more than a fortieth part of the army, though the proportion of officers was somewhat greater. The unit in the composition of the army was the company organization. 692 THE THREE " ARMS " OF THE SERVICE. 693 A full iiifantr3' company contained, in round ntunbers, one hundred men. ]t had three commissioned officers — captain, first lieutenant and second lieutenant ; and thirteen non-commissioned officers — first or orderly ser- geant, four duty sergeants and eight corporals. An infantry regiment was composed of ten companies, designated bj' lettersfrom AtoK inclusive. The letter J was omitted, on account of the confusion that would arise from the similarity in writing, of 1 and J- There were a few regiments with but eight companies each, and a few with twelve, but very nearly all were organized as above. The field offi- cers were colonel, lieutenant-colonel and major, having rank in the order given. The regimental staff officers were a surgeon, with the rank of major; two assistant surgeons and a chaplain, ranking as captains; ad- jutant and quartermaster, with the rank of first lieutenant. There was a non-commissioned-staff, consisting of sergeant-major, quartermaster-ser- geant, commissary -sergeant, hospital steward and principal musician. A /egiment when full to the maximum had thirty-nine commissioned officers, and one thousand — more or less — non-commissioned officers and privates. In official returns all except the commissioned officers were "lumped" as "enlisted men." A regiment of cavalry usually contained twelve companies, L and M being used in addition to the letters designating the companies of an infantry regiment. The general organization was similar to the infantry, except that the cavalry regiment was divided into three battalions w^ith one major for each. The care of horses also required saddlers, shoers, etc. A regiment of artiller\^ consisted of twelve companies or batteries. Each battery, usuall3% had six guns, was complete in itself, and in almost all casesserved independently. Noregiment of light or field artillery, for obvi- ous reasons, served as such, in the same compact sense as a regiment oi cavalry or infantr^^ The batteries which composed it were widely scat- tered — often in different departments, hundreds of miles apart. Scarcely half of the field artillery had a regimental organization at all. There were some two hundred and thirty "independent" batteries, so called, organized in different states ^nd dul^' nuinbered, as 6th Ohio or 10th New York Battery. Each of these three branches or " arms " of the militar\- service had its distinguishing color — blue for infantry, a'cUow for cavalry and red for artillery. The bodj^ of the uniform worn by all Avas blue — the trousers light and the blouse dark. The distinctive colors appeared in the corded seams, the trimming of the jackets largely worn by the soldiei's of the cavalry and artillery', the field of the officers' shoulder-straps, and the chevrons of the non-commissioned officers. Artillerymen usualh' w^ore upon the front of their caps or hats a brass device representing two can- nons crossed, and the cavalr3'men wore crossed sabers. When a man was properly dressed it -was easy to tell at a glance to which arm of the ser- vice he belonged. Five-sixths of the fighting was done by the infantry soldiers. This was not because they fought any better, but because there were six times as 694 CONCERNING CAVALRYMEN. in:iuy of them as of the cavah-y and artillery combined. The cavalrj' was largeh' employed in scouting, picketing, " raiding " and other impor- tant service requiring celerity of movement; the great battles were fought chiefly by the heavy masses of infantry. It took two years to learn how to use cavalry to the best advantage, and to get a body of good riders, inured to the exposure and hardship incident to their pecu- liar service. During the early part of the war the men who marched with burdened backs looked with envious eyes upon the cavalrymen, booted and spurred, as they galloped gayly about, w^ith clanking sabers. The "walk sol- diers" — or " dough-boys," as the cavalrymen called them — thought that those who rode horses had a "soft thing." " Who ever saw a dead ca\ - alryman?" was their favorite conundrum — and everybody gave it up. But there came a daj'^ when this question was no longer asked — when the "yellow jackets" w^ere often seen in the forefront of battle, and the bodies of the slain and the wounded thickly covered the ground. After the cavalry had become thoroughly seasoned, had learned the art of fighting on horseback, and was organized into a distinct aggressive force, it became a most important factor in the struggle. The history of the world re- cords no more brilliant achievements in war than those of the Union cavalry under the leadership of Sheridan, Custer, Wilson, Kilpatrick, Buford, Stoneman, Grierson, the Greggs, Averell, Pleasonton, Hatch, Torbert and many others. No less can be said of the dashing southern horsemen, led by such men as Stuart, John Morgan, Wheeler, Forrest, Fitzhugh Lee and Hampton. During the last year of the war cavalrymen did much hard, solid fight- ing on foot, as infantry, and against infantry. Moving in large bodies they were enabled to cover long distances with a speed impossible to in- fantry, and strike the enemy at a desired point. Every fourth man, at a distance in the rear, held the horses of three comrades who went dis- mounted into the fight. Sometimes the horse-holders had more than they could well manage, when the enemy tossed a few shells among the animals, occasionally stainpeding them in the most effectual manner. In 1863 and 1864, particularly in the w^estern army, a considerable number of infantry regiments w^ere supplied with horses and served as mounted infantry. These were chiefly armed with the Spencer repeating rifle, and did most excellent service. Well drilled in the tactics of infantry, and usually fighting as such, their swift movements made them exceedingly troublesome to the enem3^ Wilder 's famous brigade of mounted infantry, w^hich served so conspicuously in the Department of the Cumberland, may be cited as an illustration of this style of marching and fighting. The fact is that until a man " got used to it," riding a horse was about as hard as marching and carr3'ing a knapsack of reasonable size. On reaching camp at night the infantryman had nothing to do but to look after his own comfort, while the cavalr^'man had his horse to feed, water and groom. He was required to take good care of his horse, and to make this his first business. The supplying of his own wants was a sec« THE ARTILLERY. 695 ondary consideration. On the whole it may fairly be doubted whether the cavalryman had any appreciable advantage over him who trudged along on foot, save in the matter of foraging. He scoured the country and had the first pick of the chickens and pigs and the fruit of orchard and field, and he did not leave anything for his mere slowly traveling comrade if he could help it. In this sphere of activity the average cav- alryman was "a terror." The minds of the infantrymen were further poisoned by the belief that the artillerymen had altogether too easy a time of it when on the march. It was conceded that an equitable share of the fighting fell to the latter, and that they did it well. But it was exasperating to the weary plodder, with smarting feet and aching bones, to see the artillerymen strolling along with nothing to carry but their haversacks and canteens, their knapsacks and blankets being piled upon the caissons and "limbers." This drove the iron into the infantryman's soul. Each piece of artillery, and each caisson, battery-wagon, etc., was drawn by four or si.K horses, with numerous drivers, one of whom rode the "nigh "animal of each pair. If a gunner or "powder-monkey" tired of walking he would exchange for an hour with one of the drivers, the latter being glad of a chance to stretch his legs. These things had a disquieting effect upon the temper of the foot soldier, and caused him to bewail, in sheolic language, the cruel fate that led him to enlist in the infantrj' instead of the artiller3\ Batteries going into position under fire were often seriously embar- rassed bj' the killing and wounding of horses. Artillerj-men were pro- vided with knives, with which they slashed the harness and cut loose from a dead or disabled animal, and the remaining horses dashed on with the gun. Sometimes when going at a mad gallop, a killed or wounded horse was dragged along the ground a great distance. Occasionally a battery in action lost so many of its horses that in case of retreat or change of position the guns had to be hauled by the men, details from the mfantrj' perhaps assisting in the work. For this purpose long ropes were provided, and in this way many guns ■were saved from capture. Late in the war several regiments of " heavy artillery " were recruited. The name was attractive, particularly when coupled with the exjjecta- tion that the duty would be confined to manning the heavy guns in the forts. This pleasing fiction quickh^ filled to overflowing the ranks of these regiments. Some of them took the field with as high as eighteen hundred men each. But instead of sitting down behind the big guns these regiments were armed with muskets as infantry and ordered to "go in.'- They did so, suffering tremendous lossesin the battles around Rich- mond. Each infantr}' regiment habitually carried two silk flags, which, to- gether, constituted a " stand " of colors. One was the regulation "stars and stripes" and the other, sometimes called the "banner," was often a state flag, bearing appropriate devices, presented by friends of the regiment. The colors were the rallying point of a regiment. If it lost its colors it was liable to broome a disorganized mass. The appearance of a long line 696 THE COLORS— DEPLETED REGLMENTS. advancing with waving flags illustrated in the clearest manner the force and beauty of the words (Song of Solomon vi : 10) "terrible as an army with banners." It was esteemed a high honor to carry the colors, and the color-bearers were men — usuallj' sergeants — of tried courage. Each regiment had a color-guard of six or eight corporals, detailed from differ- ent companies, who marched w^ith the colors, and whose specific duty it was to defend them in battle. It was a post of danger, as the enemy's hottest fire was often directed at the colors, and at close quarters extraor- dinary efforts were made tocapture them, as trophies of valor. Itwas not inicommoninabattle for several successive color-bearers to be shot down, and sometimes not a man of the color-guard escaped the deadly missiles. Others, to take their places, were never wanting, and the instant a flag went down the staff was seized by other ready hands, and the ensign was kept waving amidst the smoke and din of conflict. As we have seen in the experience of the 200th Indiana, full regiments on taking the field were rapidly decimated by the ravages of disease and bul- lets. Scarcely more than half of the men enlisted proved to be physicallj* able to " stand the service," and battles fast thinned the ranks. New or- ganizations were constantly going to the front, but a "veteran "regiment having three hundred men was a large one. Some regiments were fortu- nate in occupying the less exposed positions in battle, while others, which had the "hot" places, were not infrequently, for the time, almost anni- hilated. There were repeated instances in which but one or two officers and a proportionate number of men of an entire regiment escaped unhurt. In some cases regiments became so reduced that they could not maintain their organizations, and were consolidated into " battalions," with others which had similarl3' suffered. It was always a heavy cross for its mem- bers when " the good of the service " made consolidation necessar3', and a regiment or brigade or division lost the individuality under which it had made name and fame. Some regiments received from time to time large accessions of recruits, by which they were kept well filled. Here and thereonebore uponits rolls from first to last, the names of two thousand or twenty -five hundred men Many high in authority strenuously advocated the policy of using the new levies of troops to fill up the old, depleted regiments, instead of organ- izing them separately. Wisely or otherwise the latter plan was generally adopted, and many of the veteran regiments continued but mere skeletons. It was urged, with much good reason, that I'aw men would sooner learn the thousand-and-one things that the}' must learn, if indirect association with those who had mastered "soldiering;" and that they would more readily acquire confidence and steadinei^s under fire when touchingelbows with the tried veterans of man)' fields. The pi-incipal difficulty lay in the fact that those who spent time and moncA- in recruiting expected com- missions as officers. Many regiments adopted— or were so christened by others— grotesque or suggestive names by which they were imiversally known through the armies in which they served, being scarcely mentioned, except ofliciajy, by REGIMENTAL "PET" NAMES— PAY — RANK. 697 their numerical designations. As examples may be mentioned the Penn- S3'lvania " Bucktails," the " Orange Blossoms " — a regiment chieflj' raised in Orange county, New York — and a Wisconsin regiment known as the "Wildcats." The 50th Illinois got the name of the "Blind Half Hun- dred," which it retained to the end. The 8th Wisconsin carried the eagle "Old Abe" — well known to every soldier of the Army of the Cumber- land — throtigh the w^ar, and was always called the " Eagle Regiment." Some regiments took u^jon themselves such blood-curdling names as "Tigers," " Avengers," etc., suggestive of peculiarly sanguinary habits. Many soldiers to this day speak with evident satisfaction of their regi- ments as, for example, the "Bloody" 99th Rhode Island. Of course officers received more pay than enlisted men. The difference was, however, more apparent than real, as an officer was required to pay outof his wages, all his personal expenses — clothing, food, etc., — rarelj'less than $40 to $50 a month. The enlisted man was paid from $13 to $25 per month and "found" — that is, he received in addition his clothing and rations. The government kindly loaned the officer a tent to sleep in, but if it was lost or destroj'ed, and he failed to satisfactorily- account for it, he had to pay for it. Company or "line" officers received from $100 to $120 per month, the pay increasing rapidlj' with the higher grades. Rank was denoted bj'shoulder-staps as follows: second lieutenant, plain strap with clear field ; first lieutenant, one bar in each end of the strap; captain, tw^o bars; major, gilt leaf; lieutenant-colonel, silver leaf ; colonel, spread eagle in center; brigadier-general, one star; major-general, two stars; lieutenant-general, three stars; general, four stars. The rank of " general " cannot be acquired b\' regular promotion. It can only be cre- ated by special act of Congress. U. S. Grant and AVilliam T. Sherman are the only persons who have ever held that rank in the United States Army. An act was passed authorizing the appointment of George Washington to that grade, but he was not appointed. Only Washington, Grant, Sherman and Sheridan have held the rank of lieutenant-general; Winfield Scott was a lieutenant-general by brevet. A brigade contained three or more regiments, there being no fixed number. Early in the war, when regiments were large, rarely more than four were placed in one brigade. In 1864 many brigades con- tained from six to ten regiments each — and these brigades M'ere not more than half as strong, numerically, as those which at the outset had but four. As a general thing three brigades made a division and three divisions a corps. The corps operating in a department constituted an "army" — as Army of the Potomac, Cumberland, or Tennessee. The corps were distinguished by badges. The colors, red, white and blue, indicated the divisions— first, second and third, respectively— as, a red trefoil or clover-leaf, First Division, Second Corps; white triangle, Second "division Fourth Corps; blue star, Third Division, Twentieth Corps. A bad'^e was wornbv ever}- soldier and also marked the wagons, tents, etc., of each corps. No badge was ever adopted for the Thirteenth Corps. Neither 098 TtiE CORPS BADGES. FIRST. SECOND. THIRD. FOURTH. FIFTH. SIXTH. SEVENTH. EIGHTH. NINTH. TENTW. ELEVENTH. TWELFTH. THE CORPS BADGES. 699 FOURTEENTH. FIFTEENTH. SIXTEENTH SEVENTEENTH. EJCHTEENTH. NINETEENTH. TWENTIETH. TWEN TY -SECOND. TWENTY-THIRO TWENTY-FOURTH. TWENTY-FIFTH. POTOMAC CAV- 700 THE CORPS BADGES WILSON'S CAV. ENGINEERS. SIGNAL CORPS. was there a badge for the Twenty-first, as that corps was discontinued in October, 1863, when it was consolidated with the old Twentieth Corps. The corps so formed became the Fourth, and thus continued till the close of the war. Up to that time corps badges had not been gen- erally adopted in the western army. Soon after this the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps — which had been sent from the Army of the Potomac to reinforce the Army of the Cumberland at Chattanooga — were consolidated and became the new Twentieth Corps, which took as its badge the five- pointed star of the Twelfth. One of the inexplicable things about a battle was the small proportion of casualties, even in the bloodiest engagements, to the amount of ammu- nition expended. To illustrate: In a battle with, say, fifty thousand men on each side, lasting two days, each soldier would fire, on an average, one hundred cartridges. If one bullet out of one hundred struck a man, none in either army would escape being hit. At Chickamauga the killed and wounded were about thirty per cent., so that the ratio of men struck to rounds fired — saying nothing of the artillery — was less than one to three hundred. One who goes through a long, hard ba^ tie is amazed to find himself alive. He wonders — and well he maj^ — that any can escape. Some of the more familiar bugle calls have been heretofore given. The following will touch responsive chords in the ear and memory of every soldier : 110 = J Allegro. The Reveille. i— »— F=pr— — H-y— P— [:! — i—--»— t:zii±: :|B— f— f— ^- D. C. ^^gl 130 = J Pretto. THE BUGLE CALLS. The General. 701 ■■^ZZfZ, -i — i — I — J — I — , — r-i— — 1 — 3^ — I — J - »-0-m — 0-S-0 1 |-p |- | \- m-0-0 — 0-0-0-^0-0-0 — 0-0-0- Y\ *—-■ Brz^f: :| *- E|iz=g d! t^S^iS^ 80 = ' Andante. The Assembly. -3 — ^ — ^-^H*- _**! 1 1 1 — -0 — I— -^ — =- _ ^=t^^^^^^^^^^^^ i 81=1 ^ncfanig. i ! 1 1 1 — To the Color. -I f^-i— *-^-- i= -# — 0-0-0 — h\— — F K-F — I rP^ -•— #^-#-- :z:i^zfzm=3=r^zpE3=S=B l=^:^^Lz=1: /). o. ^i^a 110 = J Andante. „ • 3 3 Dinner Catl» :j^f^u?~?~~^^^~^f?^#^ -f»=g5^H-l;LH=E^^g- ^ (» <;' I* — . ^^ c^l ^^i^iMtiK"^ I ^^^^ ' I mmt^rm^ ^mmmi^^^ I ^^i^^ J ^^ 702 80 = J Andante. THE BUGLE CALL*. Church Call. ^^ ?c E^: 3: e 3: -t»- • Officers' Call. :fefeE^=gZ=^=^^t=^^==^^="^^=i= -*-^ ^- ii^EJz=^z=ii3 "6 = ' Andante. Retreat, 112 = J Allegro. ^ /'r\ f7\ ^- l- -\-- * ' *— '—^—. — ^ a— F— *-*-T N-Fs-; — f^-*-s-F^ * N-ha-7 — f — -g— J — ^— — I ^ ^-1 — V- 1 — \-^-- — I — ^-^-\ — ^—. — I 1 — ^-- — r~i 1 I ^— ^E^ ' fz±\ — *— ^- E* -^^— *-FF-^ h:ziM --W- f- F 1 — ^ 1 — |-F— S~^ 1 F 1 — F (- I 1- -I 1 1 — I — I — L| L| , — I — 1_ _| — 1_ -H — ^ — H -I 'E^S t|=: /«> ^felE^E^^jfe l^^E^pe^i^Ht:: i THE BUGLE CALLS. Tlie folio wit g are some of the more familiar cavalry calls: The General, 70^ tm± \ —0 tf ^- ' 9-»_m_M. — C C .'-F* ft-*_»-^ ^- <» *_e_*_#_« ^S :^_^^«_«L-ie_4^ . e. 3 3 3 3 •=r^t -0-^0-»^r9_ 9- 3 Soofs and Saddles. 3 3 3 -P— f ^ •— ^f-«-*-«- To Horse. -^4-- T7ie jlssembly. To Arms, ^^^^gE; >'f7~^>g- • — ^-^« — ^ E^?^E- i f04 THK BUGLE CALi^S. To the Standard. - (Z- 3-t: T * j-P — ^-"^ -- c^E^ -f- -i — ?— :- »' 9 ^ u — — '^^^ -*-•-*- u 1 ^' ~ [==!= 4=:|= =:^ #• 1 — ^_ 1 #^ — P :" -c^-«- , :;^ ^^ — rr* iz'^rz* • «- 1 [ - ^ F-F-*- ■^ — 1 — -•*^^ 1 0-0-0 -0~t 1-':*- !_£_ J Stable Call, j-^- — 0-0 0-0 * — f—t-fi-0-m-^. :^Lli^='=»=f5fL^=±±tEt=J=e p -# 0-0-0-0-0 — :_«__^-«_*-#_^: ^ — \-0 — 0-0-0 0- D. a _^ ^_e « * »- : — i^-^ — tf — *— g- -* — ft: j^^ — 1 1 5icA; Call. m ^ng '3 fi — fi — «_*_*_*_«___#_3-»A_«_«i^ — I j ^atigtie Call, — I* z:=t: EE^EE^ ii~' ^?ii=f^'=^ ;E^E^B i=r=t: :i:=:f: :=^3— ^=E=t:=~*=^ Ep^j] ^^riEE^^iig|lgE=1| A FEW FACTS AND FIGURES, 705 A few general facts relative to the war, condensed intotlie briefest pos- sible space, will be of interest. Tlie various calls for troops made by the President of the United States were as follows: April 15, 18G1, three months 75,000 Ma3' 3, 1861, three years 500,000 July 2, 1862, tinee years 300,000 Aug. 4, 1862, nine months 300,000 Oct. 17, 1863, three years 300,000 Feb. 1, 1864, tlirec years 200,000 March 14, 1864, three years 200,000 July 18, 1864, three yeaVs 500,000 Lcc. 19, 1864, three years 300,000 Total 2,675,000 In addition to the above, militia to the number of about 150,000 were called out for short periods, to meet critical emergencies. The following shows the total number of men furnished for the Union army, in all branches of the service, by each state and territory: Alabama Arkansas California Colorado Ter.... Connecticut Delaware Dakota Ter Florida Illinois Indiana Iowa Indian Nation.. Kansas Kentucky Louisiana .Maine Maryland Vlassachusetts. Michigan Minnesota Mississippi Missouri 2,576 8,289 15,725 4,903 57,379 13,670 306 1,290 259,147 197,167 76,309 3,530 20,151 79,025 5,224 72,114 50,316 152.048 89,372 25,052 545 109,111 Nebraska Ter 3 New Hampshire 34 New Jerse\^ 81 New York 467 New Mexico Ter. Nevada North Carolina.. Ohio Oreeon 6 1 3 .... 319 1 Pennsylvania 366 23 31 1 35 Rhode Island. Tennessee Texas Vermont Washington Ter West Virginia Wisconsin District of Columbia. Colored troojos 32 96 16 93 ,157 ,629 010 047 561 080 156 659 810 107 699, 092 ,965 ,262 964 ,06.s ,424 ,872 ,442 Total 2,859,132 Included in the above are 86,724 who paid their commutation aft<'i' having been drafted. There were organized from the volunteer forces, at various times, 258 regiments and 170 independent companies of cavalr3', 57 regiments and 2.32 separate batteries of artillery', and 1,666 regiments and 306 inde- pendent companies of infantry — equivalent to a total of 2,047 regiments. 700 death's ravages. in additiun there were 30 regiments, of all arms, in tlie regular amij% which numbered, first to last, 67,000 men. The following is a very nearly correct statement of the loss of life : Killed in battle 01,362 Died of wounds 32,081 Died of disease 186,216 Died in captivity 35,000 Various causes 2,146 Total 316,805 The number of Union soldiers wounded in action was 280,040, and 184,791 were captured. Typhoid and other fevers swept away 43,715 ; diarrhea in its various forms, 44,558 ; lung diseases, 26,468 ; small-pox, 7,058; measles, 5,177. The total number of interments in the various niitional cemeteries is 318,870. This includes a considerable number of civilians, Confederates. and the dead of other wars. The following arc the most populous ot these cities of the dead: Arhngton, Va 16,264 Nashville, Tenn 16,526 Vicksburg, Miss 16,600 Fredericksburg, Va 15,257 Memphis, Tenn 13,977 Andersonville, Ga 13,714 Salisburv, N. C 12,126 Chattanooga, Tenn 12,962 Chalmette, La 12,511 Jefferson Barracks, Mo 11,490 Marietta, Ga 10,151 Beaufort, S. C 9,241 Richmond, Va 6,542 Poplar Grove, Va 6,199 Stone River, Tenn 0,145 Corinth, Miss 5,716 City Point, Va 5,152 Hampton, Va 5,424 Little Rock, Ark 5,602 Mound Cit.v, 111 5,226 Gettvsburg, Pa 3,575 Winchester, Va 4,459 Blood was shed in 2,261 battles and skirmishes. In 149 of these the loss in each, on the Union side, exceeded 500. II