nervous; even the officers could not hide their irritation.

* * * * *

Six o'clock came. The road was clear; the sun was nearly two hours high.

Forward we went at a swinging gait down the road through the dust. In
ten minutes the sweat was rolling. No halt--no pause--no command, except
the everlasting "Close up! close up!"

Seven o'clock ... we turn to the right--northwest--a neighbourhood road;
... fields; ... thickets; ... hills--not so much dust now, but the sun
getting hotter and hotter, and hotter and hotter getting our thirst.

And Sunday morning ... Close up! close up!

Hear it? Along the southeast the horizon smokes and booms. Hear it? The
cannon roar in the valley below us.

Eight o'clock ... seven miles; nine o'clock ... ten miles; ... a
ford--we cross at double-quick; ... a bridge--we cross at double-quick;
the sound of cannon and small arms is close in our front.

What is that confusion up on the hill? Smoke and dust and fire.

See them? Four men with another--and that other, how the red blood
streams from his head!

What are they doing up on the hill? They are dying up on the hill. Why
should they die?