dust, through which the sun shone redly. The intense vividness of the
picture gave me a new memory of war. Suddenly a battery of artillery,
out of sight on the distant crest, opened fire, the shrieking shells
plunging down into the ploughed field at our left, and casting the soft
dirt high in air. Our advance spread wide into skirmish line, the black
dots representing men flitting up the steep side of the hill, white
spirals of smoke evidencing their musket fire. Behind them was a grim
mass of infantry, silent and ominous, swinging forward like a huge
snake. The men of the Ninth straightened up, their eyes glowing, but it
was soon over with--the snake uncoiled, flinging a tail gleaming with
steel over the ridge, and the troopers sank back wearily into
their saddles.

As I turned again to glance over my shoulder I noticed a man riding at
the right of the second file. His face was new to me, and so peculiar
was it that I continued to stare, unable to determine whether the fellow
was white or colored. He was in private's uniform, but carried no arms,
and for head covering, instead of the hat worn by the Ninth, had an
infantry cap perched jauntily on his curly black hair. But his face was
clear, and his cheeks rosy, and he sat straight as an arrow in the
saddle. I drew back my horse and ranged up beside him, inspired by
curiosity. The eyes turned toward me undoubtedly betrayed negro blood.

"I do not remember seeing you before," I said, wiping the dust from my
lips. "Are you a new recruit?"

"I'se Col'nel Cochran's man," he answered, without salute, but with the
accent of education oddly mixed with dialect.

"Oh, I see--what has become of Sam?"