He had taken up a first position behind the lit-tle tree, with a direct determination to hold it against the world.He had not deemed it possi-ble that his army could that day succeed, and from this he felt the ability to fight harder.But the throng had surged in all ways, until he lost directions and locations, save that he knew where lay the enemy.
The flames bit him, and the hot smoke broiled his skin.His rifle barrel grew so hot that ordi-narily he could not have borne it upon his palms;but he kept on stuffing cartridges into it, and pounding them with his clanking, bending ram-rod.If he aimed at some changing form through the smoke, he pulled his trigger with a fierce grunt, as if he were dealing a blow of the fist with all his strength.
When the enemy seemed falling back before him and his fellows, he went instantly forward, like a dog who, seeing his foes lagging, turns and insists upon being pursued.And when he was compelled to retire again, he did it slowly, sul-lenly, taking steps of wrathful despair.
Once he, in his intent hate, was almost alone, and was firing, when all those near him had ceased.
He was so engrossed in his occupation that he was not aware of a lull.
He was recalled by a hoarse laugh and a sen-tence that came to his ears in a voice of contempt and amazement."Yeh infernal fool, don't yeh know enough t' quit when there ain't anything t'
shoot at? Good Gawd!"
He turned then and, pausing with his rifle thrown half into position, looked at the blue line of his comrades.During this moment of leisure they seemed all to be engaged in staring with astonishment at him.They had become specta-tors.Turning to the front again he saw, under the lifted smoke, a deserted ground.
He looked bewildered for a moment.Then there appeared upon the glazed vacancy of his eyes a diamond point of intelligence."Oh," he said, comprehending.
He returned to his comrades and threw him-self upon the ground.He sprawled like a man who had been thrashed.His flesh seemed strange-ly on fire, and the sounds of the battle continued in his ears.He groped blindly for his canteen.
The lieutenant was crowing.He seemed drunk with fighting.He called out to the youth:
"By heavens, if I had ten thousand wild cats like you I could tear th' stomach outa this war in less'n a week!" He puffed out his chest with large dignity as he said it.
Some of the men muttered and looked at the youth in awe-struck ways.It was plain that as he had gone on loading and firing and cursing without the proper intermission, they had found time to regard him.And they now looked upon him as a war devil.
The friend came staggering to him.There was some fright and dismay in his voice."Are yeh all right, Fleming? Do yeh feel all right? There ain't nothin' th' matter with yeh, Henry, is there?""No," said the youth with difficulty.His throat seemed full of knobs and burs.
These incidents made the youth ponder.It was revealed to him that he had been a barbarian, a beast.He had fought like a pagan who de-fends his religion.Regarding it, he saw that it was fine, wild, and, in some ways, easy.He had been a tremendous figure, no doubt.By this struggle he had overcome obstacles which he had admitted to be mountains.They had fallen like paper peaks, and he was now what he called a hero.And he had not been aware of the pro-cess.He had slept and, awakening, found him-self a knight.
He lay and basked in the occasional stares of his comrades.Their faces were varied in de-grees of blackness from the burned powder.
Some were utterly smudged.They were reek-ing with perspiration, and their breaths came hard and wheezing.And from these soiled ex-panses they peered at him.
"Hot work! Hot work!" cried the lieu-
tenant deliriously.He walked up and down, restless and eager.Sometimes his voice could be heard in a wild, incomprehensible laugh.
When he had a particularly profound thought upon the science of war he always unconsciously addressed himself to the youth.
There was some grim rejoicing by the men.
"By thunder, I bet this army'll never see another new reg'ment like us!""You bet!"
"A dog, a woman, an' a walnut tree, Th' more yeh beat 'em, th' better they be!
That's like us."
"Lost a piler men, they did.If an' ol' woman swep' up th' woods she'd git a dustpanful.""Yes, an' if she'll come around ag'in in 'bout an' hour she'll git a pile more."The forest still bore its burden of clamor.
From off under the trees came the rolling clatter of the musketry.Each distant thicket seemed a strange porcupine with quills of flame.A cloud of dark smoke, as from smoldering ruins, went up toward the sun now bright and gay in the blue, enameled sky.
