Hillsboro recorder., 1888-06-21
faE PICKET COUNTED NgNE.
It was ! Bfiscount, but a CLEANING
Dagger Made the Correction.
IFrom the Detroit Free PRESS

TFrom thu Detroit Free Press.l
AS The sun went down anu darkness
began to creep over the face Of the
earth the angry artillery died away and
the crackle Of musketry was less spite
full. For q while the fighting on the
extreme right hung on, to settle the
question of who should occupy the old
earthworks, but at length dead silence
fell upon the whole field.
Silence2 Nol 1t was silence COM
pared to the awful roar OF the long after
noon, but it was silence broken by the
screams and groans and prayers Of
wounded men--by the movements Of
wagons and artillery-by the subdued
voices Of u, 900 men as they canped for
the night without fire, and anxiously
debated the chances for the morrow.
The sergeant marches off to the left at
the head of half a dozen men. He drops
q man at "Post No. l." and gives him
whispered instruction. IL is the same
at posts 2, 3, 4, etc., until the last man
has been stationed.
There must be vigilant, wakeful men
between friends and foes while the long
night wears away.
"Post No. G. is under great beech
tree. Shot and shell have SCARED and
riyen its trunk, and shot and shell have
scattered and riven It's thick limbs. A
quarter Of a century hence this tree will
bear witness to the terrible struggle Of
to-day.
"From this tree to tho edge Of that
thicket, and the countersign is "Jus-
tice,'" whispered the sergeant, and as
he passes on the picket takes up his
beat. He counts as he passes them by
lone, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
eight. What? Corpsesl They are ly-
ing on the grass SO near the path he
travels that he can touch any Of them
with his foot. There are others tothe
right and left, farther away. 1t was
here. that the enemy charged battery
here our heroes rallied to preserve it,
Grape,shot and canister, bullet and bay
onet, found victims there. Some lay as
if asleep, worn out with the tremendous
conhict-cthers rayed and prayed and
cursed God and man before death re-
leased them from their sliIerings.
The picket counts them as he walks,
and sigh escapes his lips. Tomorrow
night some sentinel may number his
mntilated corpse with others on the
same meadow. Tomorrow night the
autumn winds may vainly seek to rouse
him from his death sleep.
From tree to thicket and turn. From
thicket TO tree and turn. He must
watch and listen and be on his guard,
but by and by he finds time to count
again. One-two-thrce-four five
six-seyen-eight-nine! What He
counted only eight before Was he
mistaken, or can the desd Of the battle
field creep and crawl Six-ssyen-
eight--ninel Yes, there are nine. In
the darkness he had made mistake.
Ninel Well, what matters one more
or one less corpse upon a field OF bat
tlel
To the tree and turn. To tho thicket
and turn. As he heads for the tree again
the ninth corpse assumes sitting posi-
ton and looks after him. A moment
later it struggles mp, and figure goes
creeping after the picket. The grass on
the meadow Is thick and matted. His
footballs give out no sound. Softly
softly-silent as the shadow Of death
creeping creeping, and now he is close
upon the lone picket. There is gleam
Of steel in the darlness--a swift and
powerful blow, and he who was placed
10 watch will watch no more.
Through the gaps the spies viii pour
IN and skulk about the camps; regi-
ment viii be silently advanced to the
key position; the ghouls viii scent plum
der and creep up to rob the dead.
The picket had counted, tseven--
eight-nine
There is no missing corpse. The num-
Der has been made good