The Warner weekly sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1885, 1885-03-20

Il tLd 2 swallow Of we3a.
= 1ne canteen still swunc saees
the dead soldiers side. ~
en-, as with just returning q ;0 aa0s0'
naming consciousness. ya;ngu sass ~
TO rise from a mangled hear shaag
may not be buried with them ~ Lsas ne
aliye' or some man, yet sound of ~
but pacing feverishlY his grosnd 10y
cause IN such a bisouac his shirt 80 Il,
not sleep. And SO we picked on, ,sa
back amid the stark, upturned fsco.' Ny
our little living line. y
The night chill had now
misty veil over the field. F-ortnnas.4s
splcket fence we had e~ncounteraJ !.
cur charge from the town had &C.
pelied us 20 abandon our horses anS !.
he'd saved our lives on the crast. a y
overcoats had been STRAINED y ~
saddles and we missed them now Ms ag
OF the men, however, had their ovar'
corCs or blankets-we were. kkaas glad of lin,
Except the few sentries along The frars
the men had fallen asleep--the l;v;rs
with the dead. AT last, outwearied az
depressed with the desoIate scens =
own strength sank, and moved j.,
dead men a little and lay down betwass
them, making a pillow of the breast 4
q third. The skirt of his oyercosi
drawn ove my face TO sh;eId
me from the bleak winds. Their
was some comfort even IN tb;s
companionship. But it was broL.
en- sleep. The deepening chill drovo
man ::o-:ts . Saao tne garments
of those who could no longer need Them
that they might keep themselves alive
More than onceI was startled from NV
unrest by some n turning back the
coat skirt from my face. peering. half
vampire-like, to my fancy, through thA
darkness, to discover if it too were 81
the silent and unfesisting turning away
more Disconnected at my living word
than if a voice had spoken from the
dead.
Having held our places all the night
we had to keep to them all the more
closely ttIe nexGday for it would Be-
certain death to attempt to move away.
Asst was, it was only by making breast
works and barricades of the dead men
that covered the field that we saved
any alive. We did what we could TO
take a record of these men. A Tesla
mentthat had fallen from the breast
pocket of the soldier who had been my
pillow l sent soon after to his home
he vas not of my command-and it pro-
we'd TO be the only clue his parents ever
had to his fate.
The next midnight, after SO hours Of
this narrowing work, we were hidden
to withdraw into the town for refresh
ment and rest. But neither rest nor
motion was to be thought of till we had
paid fitting honor to our dead. We laid
them on the spot where they had won,
on the sheltered edge of the crest, and
committed their noble forms to the
earth, andtheir story to their countrys
keeping.
sfWe buried them dsrkly, at dead Of night
The sod withaour bayonets turning"
Splinters of boards, torn by shot and
shell from tine fences we had crossed,
served as headstones, each name bur
riedly carved under brief match lights,
a~nxiously hidden from the foe. 1t was
q strange Gene around that silent and
shadowy sepulture, "We will give them
a starlight burial" it was said; but
heaven ordained a more sublime Illu-
mination. AS we bore them in dark and
sad procession their own loved Nor:ss
took up the escort, and, lifting all her
gloriouslights, led the triumphal march
over the bridge that spans the worlds
an aurora borealis of marvellous majesty
Fiery lanees and banners OF blood ana
fame, columns of pearly light, gsrlands
and wreaths Of gold, oil pointing up
ward and Reckoning on. Would you
not pass on IS they did, dead for their
country's lie, and lighted to burial Dy
the meteor splendors Of their native SKY