to the cause. That's why I wrote them. I'll explain it all to you
a little later."

At this moment they were held up by an armed guard of chuffs,
stationed at the city limits. These saluted respectfully on seeing
the Bishop's daughter, but examined Bleak's passport with care.
Then the car passed on into the suburbs.

As they neared the fields of actual battle, Bleak was able to see
something of the embittered nature of the conflict. In the hot
white sunlight of the summer morning platoons of Pan-Antis could
be seen marching across the fields, going up from the rest centers
to the firing line. In one place a shallow trench had been dug,
from which the chuffs were firing upon a blackberry hedge at long
range. One by one the unprincipled berries were being picked off
by expert marksmen. The dusty highway was stained with ghastly
rivulets and dribbles of scarlet juices. At a crossroads they came
upon a group of chuffs who had shown themselves to be
conscientious objectors: these were being escorted to an
internment camp where they would be horribly punished by
confinement to lecture rooms with Chautauqua lecturers. War is
always cruel, and even non-combatants did not escape. In the heat
of combat, the neutrality of an orchard of plum trees had been
violated, and wagonloads of the innocent fruit were being carried
away into slavery and worse than death. A young apple tree was
standing in front of a firing squad, and Bleak closed his eyes
rather than watch the tragic spectacle. The apples were all green,
and too young to ferment, but the chuffs were ruthless once their
passions were roused.