The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1908-01-16

The heat and passion and strife of
the day had passed and now the cool,
gray twilight was creeping down the
Maryland hills and across the meadows,
stained and Scared with battle. Along
the river the night birds were already
beginning to call in soft, plaintive
notes to one another; the wind sighed
YEARLY among the trees and tall sedge
grasses.
Yet, sadder to hear than wind or
bird were the means of the wounded
whom that last wild charge had left
behind; sadder even to see than the
still, white faces of the dead, were the
pain-darkened eyes lifted in mute ap-
peal to the sky while they waited with
keen anguish of mind and body for the
sunrise in this world or the dawning
of the next
The young spring moon hung low in
the west, where the last faint crimson
glow was paling and one who watched
her thought wistfully that even so she
must hang above the pine-clad noun
tains of his beloved Vermont.
He was only a boy. Something of
the trusting innocence of his childish
years still fingered in his eyes and
about his pale young mouth. But the
look of joyous freedom that should
have been there too was lacking In
stead were great WEAKNESS and pain
and longing.
Only a boy, and this his first battle.
That morning as they lay waiting in
the trenches, every faculty alert, life
had seemed so good, so desirable a
thing for those who were young and
brave and strong He had watched
their colonel ride up and down and
thought that some day he, too, might
sit horse and wear a cleaning gold
eagle upon his shoulder and
now it was twilight and the battle was
there on the damp, cool sod with a
ragged hole in his breast, from which
the warm blood trickled down and
stained his blue coat darkly with Jim
son. The gray-haired colonel had fall
Ell with a word of command on his
lips. Many a cheek had paled as he
went down and for an instant the
whole regiment faltered visibly Then
on-on as one man, straight against the
solid wall of gray. How they fought !
Like gods rather than men. The boy
felt faint stir along his feeble pulses
at the remembrance. At first the en-
envy had stood immovable. sternly re-
sisting. Then little by little they fell
back, every inch of ground yielded
forced accession, until, wavering, I'M
certain, they broke into confusion and
victory was again in the hands of the
North.
But, ali, the hiss Of the bullets, the
sullen growl of the cannon belching
forth fire and smoke and destruction.
the loud shouts of command, the shrill,
frightened neigh of the horses, the
thin, clear notes of the bugle lifting
themselves out of the confusion of
sounds-one moment to be keenly alive
10 all this, the next TO fall in the midst
of sudden, rushing overwhelming dark
hess with bullet in ones breast.
A single star came out beside the
moon-a tiny point of light that trem-
bled timidly against the opalescent
west. So still was 1t that one could
hear the waters of the river tapping
lazily against the stones. The boy
moistened his parched lips with his
feverish tongue. Then he felt about for
his canteen, found 1t and lifted it
feebly 1t was empty and yet it had
never before been so heavy In his hand.
He let it fall despairingly and closed
his eyes to KEEP back the quick, hot
tears from escaping down his cheeks.
"Watah, massa-watah?"
He looked up. Standing beside him
was the wretchedly-clad figure of an
old negro, bending under the weight of
a back load of canteents. His jaws were
toothless, his gray wool protruded in
tufts through the ragged crown of his
hat. he mumbled when he spoke and
his eyes rolled frightfully, but to the
wounded boy he looked a very angel
Of mercy.
YES" he said, family.
The old man stopped with difficulty
lifted the canteen and swung it upon
his shoulders.
Wait" the boy whispered, Il will
pay you"
He drew forth little worn morocco
purse and tried to open it. but it Slip
ped from his fingers. The old man
unfastened the simple clasp. Within
were a folded paper or two, scraps of
home letters maybe. lock of silken
brown hair lightly sprlnkled with
gray and a single gold dollar The boy
put the money into the negro's reluct-
ant hand.
take It," he said, "and bring the
water soOn-Oh, very sOOn.'
The old man shambled awkwardly
away and the boy dropped his head to
one side and closed his eyes.
Deep purple shadows began TO drift
across the battle field. The line OF
woods beyond the river became little
more than a dark blur upon the land
scape Another star came out, an
other and another still until the sky
was all a-tremble with them. The boy
stirred in his slumber, moaned and
awoke.
In the distance a shadow seemed to
detach itself from the other shadows,
to move forward, to become a distinct
shape. And presently one could dis
Germ the rude outlines of a human fig
ure bowed beneath a heavy burden.
Nearer and nearer Ii came and now
there could be no mistake. 1t was the
old negro with his backload of can
teens.
The boy waved his hand and tried