The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1896-11-06


as nothing with the long fusillade that
had swept it in the daytime; the pass
ing of a single life, more or less,
aEaocnted to little in the long rollcall
of the days slaughter.
B 1T with the first beams of the morn.
ing Sun-and the slowly moving relief
detail' from the camp-came weirc
half resurrection of that CHASTITY field.
Then it was that the long rays of SUM-
light, streaming many a mile beyond
the battle line, first pointed out the
harvest of the dead where the reserves
had been posted. There they lay in
heaps and piles. killed by solid shot or
bursting shells that had leaped the
battle line to plunge into the waiting
ranks beyond. AS the sun lifted higher
its beams fell within the range of mus.
kerry fire where the dead lay thicker
even as they had fallen when killed
outright-with arms extended, and feet
at all angles to the field. AS it touched
these dead upturped faces, strangely
enough it brought out no expression of
pain nor anguish, but rather as if
death had arrested them only with sur
prise and awe. 1t revealed on the lips
of those who had been mortally
wounded and had turned upon their
side the relief which death had brought
their suffering. sometimes even with a
smile. Mounting higher, it glanced
upon the actual battle line, curiously
curving for the shelter of walls. fences
and breastworks-and here the dead
lay, even as when they had lain and
fired. their faces prone in the grass,
but their muskets still resting across
the breastworks. Exposed to grape
and canister from the battery on the
ridge, death had come to them merci-
fully also-through the head and
throat. And now the whole field lay
bare in the sunlight-broken with gro
tesque shadows cast from sitting,
crouching, half-recumbent, but always
rigid, figures, that might have been
effigies of their own monuments. One
half-kneeling soldier, with head bowed
between his stiffened hands, might
have stood for carven figure of grief
at the feet of his dead comrade. a
captain shot through the brain in the
act of mounting a wall lay sideways
half across it, his lips parted with the
word of command, and the sword still
pointing over the barrier the way that
they should go.
But it was not until the sun had
mounted higher that it struck the cen.
trail horror of the field and seemed to
linger there in dazzling persistence, now
and then returning to it in startling
flashes, that it might be seen of men
and those who brought succor. A tiny
brook had run obliquely near the battle
line. 1t was here that the night before
the battle friend and foe had filled their
canteens side by side with soldierly
recklessness, or perhaps higher in
stinct, purposely ignoring each others
presence; it was here that the wounded
had afterwards crept, crawled and
dragged themselves. here they had
pushed. wrangled, striven and fought
for a draft of that precious fluid which
assuaged the thirst of their wounds-or
happily put them out of their misery
forever; here, overborne. crushed, suffo-
Gated by numbers, pouring their own
blood into the food and tum bling after
it with their helpless bodies, they
damned the stream, until, recoiling, red
and angry, it had burst its banks and
overfowed the cotton field in brave
pool now sparkling in the sunlight
But below this human dana mile
away-where the brook still crept slug
gishly, the ambulance horses shifted anc
started from it.
The detail moved on slowly, doing
their work expeditiously and apparent.
ly callously. but really only with that
mechanical movement that saves emo.
ton. Only once were they moved to an
outbreak of ndignation-the discovery
of the body of an officer whose pockets
were turned inside out, but whose hand
was still tightly grasped on his but,
toned waistcoat, as if resisting the out
life. AS the men disengaged the stiff,
ened hand, something slipped from tho
waistcoat to the ground. The corpora
picked it up and handed it to his officer
1t was sealed packet. The officer re
ceived it with the carelessness which
long experience of those pathetic mis-
sives from the dying to their living re-
Iations had induced. and dropped it il
the pocket of his tunic. with the hall
dozen others that he had picked up THAI
morning. and moved on with the de
tail. A little further on they halted il
the attitude of attention as mountec
officer appeared riding slowly down ths
line.
There was something more than the
habitual respect of ii .ir superior IL
their fH1.s as he came forward. For l.
was the general who had commanded
the brigade the day before-the man
who leaped with one bound into the
forward rank of military leaders. 1t
was his invincible spirit that had led
the advance, held back defeat against
overwhelming numbers, sustained the
rally, impressed his subordinate officers
with his own undertaking purpose, and
even impressed among them an almost
superstitious belief in his destiny Of
success. 1t was this man who had done
what was deemed impossible to do
what even at this time it was thought
rlnwise and unstrategic to do-who had
held weak position, of apparently no
importance, under the mandate of an
incomprehensible order from his supe-
rior-whict at best only asked for a
sacrifice and was rewarded with vic
tory. He had decimated his brigade,
but the wounded and dying had cheered
him as he passed and the survivors