CHAPTER II.
The next morning the youth discovered that his tall comrade had beenthe fast-flying messenger of a mistake. There was much scoffing at thelatter by those who had yesterday been firm adherents of his views, andthere was even a little sneering by men who had never believed therumor. The tall one fought with a man from Chatfield Corners and beathim severely.
The youth felt, however, that his problem was in no wise lifted fromhim. There was, on the contrary, an irritating prolongation. The talehad created in him a great concern for himself. Now, with the newbornquestion in his mind, he was compelled to sink back into his old placeas part of a blue demonstration.
For days he made ceaseless calculations, but they were all wondrouslyunsatisfactory. He found that he could establish nothing. He finallyconcluded that the only way to prove himself was to go into the blaze,and then figuratively to watch his legs to discover their merits andfaults. He reluctantly admitted that he could not sit still and with amental slate and pencil derive an answer. To gain it, he must haveblaze, blood, and danger, even as a chemist requires this, that, andthe other. So he fretted for an opportunity.
Meanwhile he continually tried to measure himself by his comrades. Thetall soldier, for one, gave him some assurance. This man's sereneunconcern dealt him a measure of confidence, for he had known him sincechildhood, and from his intimate knowledge he did not see how he couldbe capable of anything that was beyond him, the youth. Still, hethought that his comrade might be mistaken about himself. Or, on theother hand, he might be a man heretofore doomed to peace and obscurity,but, in reality, made to shine in war.
The youth would have liked to have discovered another who suspectedhimself. A sympathetic comparison of mental notes would have been ajoy to him.
He occasionally tried to fathom a comrade with seductive sentences. Helooked about to find men in the proper mood. All attempts failed tobring forth any statement which looked in any way like a confession tothose doubts which he privately acknowledged in himself. He was afraidto make an open declaration of his concern, because he dreaded to placesome unscrupulous confidant upon the high plane of the unconfessed fromwhich elevation he could be derided.
In regard to his companions his mind wavered between two opinions,according to his mood. Sometimes he inclined to believing them allheroes. In fact, he usually admitted in secret the superiordevelopment of the higher qualities in others. He could conceive ofmen going very insignificantly about the world bearing a load ofcourage unseen, and although he had known many of his comrades throughboyhood, he began to fear that his judgment of them had been blind.Then, in other moments, he flouted these theories, and assured himselfthat his fellows were all privately wondering and quaking.
His emotions made him feel strange in the presence of men who talkedexcitedly of a prospective battle as of a drama they were about towitness, with nothing but eagerness and curiosity apparent in theirfaces. It was often that he suspected them to be liars.
He did not pass such thoughts without severe condemnation of himself.He dinned reproaches at times. He was convicted by himself of manyshameful crimes against the gods of traditions.
In his great anxiety his heart was continually clamoring at what heconsidered the intolerable slowness of the generals. They seemedcontent to perch tranquilly on the river bank, and leave him bowed downby the weight of a great problem. He wanted it settled forthwith. Hecould not long bear such a load, he said. Sometimes his anger at thecommanders reached an acute stage, and he grumbled about the camp likea veteran.
One morning, however, he found himself in the ranks of his preparedregiment. The men were whispering speculations and recounting the oldrumors. In the gloom before the break of the day their uniforms gloweda deep purple hue. From across the river the red eyes were stillpeering. In the eastern sky there was a yellow patch like a rug laidfor the feet of the coming sun; and against it, black and patternlike,loomed the gigantic figure of the colonel on a gigantic horse.
From off in the darkness came the trampling of feet. The youth couldoccasionally see dark shadows that moved like monsters. The regimentstood at rest for what seemed a long time. The youth grew impatient. Itwas unendurable the way these affairs were managed. He wondered howlong they were to be kept waiting.
As he looked all about him and pondered upon the mystic gloom, he beganto believe that at any moment the ominous distance might be aflare, andthe rolling crashes of an engagement come to his ears. Staring once atthe red eyes across the river, he conceived them to be growing larger,as the orbs of a row of dragons advancing. He turned toward thecolonel and saw him lift his gigantic arm and calmly stroke hismustache.
At last he heard from along the road at the foot of the hill theclatter of a horse's galloping hoofs. It must be the coming of orders.He bent forward, scarce breathing. The exciting clickety-click, as itgrew louder and louder, seemed to be beating upon his soul. Presentlya horseman with jangling equipment drew rein before the colonel of theregiment. The two held a short, sharp-worded conversation. The men inthe foremost ranks craned their necks.
As the horseman wheeled his animal and galloped away he turned to shoutover his shoulder, "Don't forget that box of cigars!" The colonelmumbled in reply. The youth wondered what a box of cigars had to dowith war.
A moment later the regiment went swinging off into the darkness. Itwas now like one of those moving monsters wending with many feet. Theair was heavy, and cold with dew. A mass of wet grass, marched upon,rustled like silk.
There was an occasional flash and glimmer of steel from the backs ofall these huge crawling reptiles. From the road came creakings andgrumblings as some surly guns were dragged away.
The men stumbled along still muttering speculations. There was asubdued debate. Once a man fell down, and as he reached for his riflea comrade, unseeing, trod upon his hand. He of the injured fingersswore bitterly and aloud. A low, tittering laugh went among hisfellows.
Presently they passed into a roadway and marched forward with easystrides. A dark regiment moved before them, and from behind also camethe tinkle of equipments on the bodies of marching men.
The rushing yellow of the developing day went on behind their backs.When the sunrays at last struck full and mellowingly upon the earth,the youth saw that the landscape was streaked with two long, thin,black columns which disappeared on the brow of a hill in front andrearward vanished in a wood. They were like two serpents crawling fromthe cavern of the night.
The river was not in view. The tall soldier burst into praises of whathe thought to be his powers of perception.
Some of the tall one's companions cried with emphasis that they, too,had evolved the same thing, and they congratulated themselves upon it.But there were others who said that the tall one's plan was not thetrue one at all. They persisted with other theories. There was avigorous discussion.
The youth took no part in them. As he walked along in careless line hewas engaged with his own eternal debate. He could not hinder himselffrom dwelling upon it. He was despondent and sullen, and threwshifting glances about him. He looked ahead, often expecting to hearfrom the advance the rattle of firing.
But the long serpents crawled slowly from hill to hill without blusterof smoke. A dun-colored cloud of dust floated away to the right. Thesky overhead was of a fairy blue.
The youth studied the faces of his companions, ever on the watch todetect kindred emotions. He suffered disappointment. Some ardor ofthe air which was causing the veteran commands to move withglee--almost with song--had infected the new regiment. The men beganto speak of victory as of a thing they knew. Also, the tall soldierreceived his vindication. They were certainly going to come around inbehind the enemy. They expressed commiseration for that part of thearmy which had been left upon the river bank, felicitating themselvesupon being a part of a blasting host.
The youth, considering himself as separated from the others, wassaddened by the blithe and merry speeches that
went from rank to rank.The company wags all made their best endeavors. The regiment trampedto the tune of laughter.
The blatant soldier often convulsed whole files by his biting sarcasmsaimed at the tall one.
And it was not long before all the men seemed to forget their mission.Whole brigades grinned in unison, and regiments laughed.
A rather fat soldier attempted to pilfer a horse from a dooryard. Heplanned to load his knap-sack upon it. He was escaping with his prizewhen a young girl rushed from the house and grabbed the animal's mane.There followed a wrangle. The young girl, with pink cheeks and shiningeyes, stood like a dauntless statue.
The observant regiment, standing at rest in the roadway, whooped atonce, and entered whole-souled upon the side of the maiden. The menbecame so engrossed in this affair that they entirely ceased toremember their own large war. They jeered the piratical private, andcalled attention to various defects in his personal appearance; andthey were wildly enthusiastic in support of the young girl.
To her, from some distance, came bold advice. "Hit him with a stick."
There were crows and catcalls showered upon him when he retreatedwithout the horse. The regiment rejoiced at his downfall. Loud andvociferous congratulations were showered upon the maiden, who stoodpanting and regarding the troops with defiance.
At nightfall the column broke into regimental pieces, and the fragmentswent into the fields to camp. Tents sprang up like strange plants.Camp fires, like red, peculiar blossoms, dotted the night.
The youth kept from intercourse with his companions as much ascircumstances would allow him. In the evening he wandered a few pacesinto the gloom. From this little distance the many fires, with theblack forms of men passing to and fro before the crimson rays, madeweird and satanic effects.
He lay down in the grass. The blades pressed tenderly against hischeek. The moon had been lighted and was hung in a treetop. The liquidstillness of the night enveloping him made him feel vast pity forhimself. There was a caress in the soft winds; and the whole mood ofthe darkness, he thought, was one of sympathy for himself in hisdistress.
He wished, without reserve, that he was at home again making theendless rounds from the house to the barn, from the barn to the fields,from the fields to the barn, from the barn to the house. He rememberedhe had often cursed the brindle cow and her mates, and had sometimesflung milking stools. But, from his present point of view, there was ahalo of happiness about each of their heads, and he would havesacrificed all the brass buttons on the continent to have been enabledto return to them. He told himself that he was not formed for asoldier. And he mused seriously upon the radical differences betweenhimself and those men who were dodging imp-like around the fires.
As he mused thus he heard the rustle of grass, and, upon turning hishead, discovered the loud soldier. He called out, "Oh, Wilson!"
The latter approached and looked down. "Why, hello, Henry; is it you?What you doing here?"
"Oh, thinking," said the youth.
The other sat down and carefully lighted his pipe. "You're gettingblue, my boy. You're looking thundering peeked. What the dickens iswrong with you?"
"Oh, nothing," said the youth.
The loud soldier launched then into the subject of the anticipatedfight. "Oh, we've got 'em now!" As he spoke his boyish face waswreathed in a gleeful smile, and his voice had an exultant ring. "We'vegot 'em now. At last, by the eternal thunders, we'll lick 'em good!"
"If the truth was known," he added, more soberly, "THEY'VE licked USabout every clip up to now; but this time--this time--we'll lick 'emgood!"
"I thought you was objecting to this march a little while ago," saidthe youth coldly.
"Oh, it wasn't that," explained the other. "I don't mind marching, ifthere's going to be fighting at the end of it. What I hate is thisgetting moved here and moved there, with no good coming of it, as faras I can see, excepting sore feet and damned short rations."
"Well, Jim Conklin says we'll get a plenty of fighting this time."
"He's right for once, I guess, though I can't see how it come. Thistime we're in for a big battle, and we've got the best end of it,certain sure. Gee rod! how we will thump 'em!"
He arose and began to pace to and fro excitedly. The thrill of hisenthusiasm made him walk with an elastic step. He was sprightly,vigorous, fiery in his belief in success. He looked into the futurewith clear, proud eye, and he swore with the air of an old soldier.
The youth watched him for a moment in silence. When he finally spokehis voice was as bitter as dregs. "Oh, you're going to do greatthings, I s'pose!"
The loud soldier blew a thoughtful cloud of smoke from his pipe. "Oh,I don't know," he remarked with dignity; "I don't know. I s'pose I'lldo as well as the rest. I'm going to try like thunder." He evidentlycomplimented himself upon the modesty of this statement.
"How do you know you won't run when the time comes?" asked the youth.
"Run?" said the loud one; "run?--of course not!" He laughed.
"Well," continued the youth, "lots of good-a-'nough men have thoughtthey was going to do great things before the fight, but when the timecome they skedaddled."
"Oh, that's all true, I s'pose," replied the other; "but I'm not goingto skedaddle. The man that bets on my running will lose his money,that's all." He nodded confidently.
"Oh, shucks!" said the youth. "You ain't the bravest man in the world,are you?"
"No, I ain't," exclaimed the loud soldier indignantly; "and I didn'tsay I was the bravest man in the world, neither. I said I was going todo my share of fighting--that's what I said. And I am, too. Who areyou, anyhow. You talk as if you thought you was Napoleon Bonaparte."He glared at the youth for a moment, and then strode away.
The youth called in a savage voice after his comrade: "Well, youneedn't git mad about it!" But the other continued on his way and madeno reply.
He felt alone in space when his injured comrade had disappeared. Hisfailure to discover any mite of resemblance in their view points madehim more miserable than before. No one seemed to be wrestling withsuch a terrific personal problem. He was a mental outcast.
He went slowly to his tent and stretched himself on a blanket by theside of the snoring tall soldier. In the darkness he saw visions of athousand-tongued fear that would babble at his back and cause him toflee, while others were going coolly about their country's business. Headmitted that he would not be able to cope with this monster. He feltthat every nerve in his body would be an ear to hear the voices, whileother men would remain stolid and deaf.
And as he sweated with the pain of these thoughts, he could hear low,serene sentences. "I'll bid five." "Make it six." "Seven." "Sevengoes."
He stared at the red, shivering reflection of a fire on the white wallof his tent until, exhausted and ill from the monotony of hissuffering, he fell asleep.