The Montgomery advertiser., 1901-06-15
THE BAND LIED.
BY KATE M. CLURY.

To sum it all up the volunteer may be divided into three distinct classes those who follow the drum from a | sense of duty heroes; those in search I of glory, fools; together with few rascals and unfortunates. who for strictly personal reasons wish to hide. The first two predominate, and while many arguments may be brought for- ward to show they are not, judging from motives alone, heroes or fools, hot campaign soon proves the truth or the assertion. A hot sun, an empty stomach and a vivid view of death Is enough to convince any man. The third class has nothing to hope for. nothing to regret. The favored few reap fame, all reap hardship and Ill health, while the life often generous ly provides an unmarked grave for the majority. r Jim Doyle, private, always argued in this fashion, and was rewarded with the title of "grumbler" for his pains; but after his lecture on the ridge that day | have no doubt the men of the 18th thoroughly agreed with him. It was his first serious lecture. brief one, but convincing, complete. Perhaps 1t will have more weight if stated 1t was his last.
 After a quick march in the hot sul- try morning, when the sun made even the hat upon your head seem heavy. and the rife weighed pounds upon pounds, we rushed through ragged | line of trees out into the open toward small ridge, from the top of which little puffs of white flew and dull re- ports sounded. while the sharp crack Of | twigs behind us proved bad markman- | ship. But once a man fell all | sprawied out. When we reached the ridge I remember looking back and he | had not moved, still sprawled out, face | downward. sir the dirt, with a second tangled heap near him.
 We had driven them off the ridgetop little feat that cost two men their lives, only toJhave them stop obstin- alley at oahother some 200 yards the other sIderofaS Harrow stream that lay before us. Its thick tropical vegeta- tion, the bank at portions shaded. seemed cool and pleasing to the eye. striking contrast to the sun reflect ing rocks. It lay just a hundred yards away and to cross that hundred yards might cost your life; so 1t might as well have been a mirage for all the l good 1t did the forty thirsty men on | the hilltop. We waited for troops :s reinforce us. waited and waited all that day. ...
 It was a rocky place and seemed as | if 1t had been baked and baked centu- ries perhaps in that fierce sunlight till the rocks became glazy hot. the shrubs withered and the ground dry and pow dery. As If to make it worse for us, "Grumbler" Doyle had been hit; "Grumbler" had got 1t at last as often prophesied. He was shot through the | chest in GI1nh 00akA if i'm. possible for him to live. Doyle was 8 big, blustery man, who would RrowI whether the officers backs were turned or not; so in a measure he was a brave man, as you will agree If you ever have soldiered.
 We made him as comfortable as DOS sible in. the almost imaginary shadow of a large boulder and gave him little by little the few hot drops of water left in the canteens. The wound started to trouble him after the water ran out It was bad enough for us; the brain seemed dulled, the mouth grew parch- ed and the eyes hurt from the glare But to be in the sun hour after hour with hole in the chest must be mad dening. It is a bad thing, a hole drilled by a Mauser; 1t is as clean and complete as you might imagine. And there on that hot ridge we had to stay; the lifting of hand would bring a shot.
 For a while he lay quiet. Nothing wac to be heard but in insects drone
 while above us in the blue sky yul- ture wheeled in wide circles and wait
 ed. off there. black against yellow
 ground, lay two heaps, one sprawled
 and tangled. picturing our probablt fate.
 Suddenly the wounded man gave g
 whining groan and started to babblt
 foolishly. First it was a silly flow oi
 disjointed words and sentences. par.
 italy unintelligble, punctuated by tht
 whining moans. Then he talked ot
 friends and a home he once had "baci
 East" Now he recalled old incidents
 and laughed painful cackle over
 boyhood trick. Then he talked o'
 Sunday, THE DIAPAsoN OF D1i