urrent in the Camp, but I
have no means of answering for its truth. Two sergeants met in the
trenches, who had been schoolmates in their youth; years had passed
since they set out for the battle of life by different roads, and now
they met again under the fire of a common enemy. With one impulse they
started forward to exchange the hearty hand-shake and the mutual
greetings, and while their hands were still clasped, a chance shot
killed both.

CHAPTER XVI.

UNDER FIRE ON THE FATAL 18TH OF JUNE--BEFORE THE
REDAN--AT THE CEMETERY--THE ARMISTICE--DEATHS AT
HEAD-QUARTERS--DEPRESSION IN THE CAMP--PLENTY IN THE
CRIMEA--THE PLAGUE OF FLIES--UNDER FIRE AT THE BATTLE
OF THE TCHERNAYA--WORK ON THE FIELD--MY PATIENTS.

Before I left the Crimea to return to England, the Adjutant-General of
the British Army gave me a testimonial, which the reader has already
read in Chapter XIV., in which he stated that I had "frequently
exerted myself in the most praiseworthy manner in attending wounded
men, even in positions of great danger." The simple meaning of this
sentence is that, in the discharge of what I conceived to be my duty,
I was frequently "under fire." Now I am far from wishing to speak of
this fact with any vanity or pride, because, after all, one soon gets
accustomed to it, and it fails at last to create more than temporary
uneasiness. Indeed, after Sebastopol was ours, you might often see
officers and men strolling coolly, even leisurely, across and along
those streets, exposed to the enemy's fire, when a little haste would
have carried them beyond the reach of danger. The truth was, I
believe, they had grown so habituated to being in peril from shot or
shell, that they rather liked the sensation, and found it difficult to
get on without a little gratuitous excitement and danger.

But putting aside the great engagements, where I underwent
considerable peril, one could scarcely move about the various camps
without some risk. The Russians had, it seemed, sunk great ships' guns
into the earth, from which they fired shot and shell at a very long
range, which came tumbling and plunging between, and sometimes into
the huts and tents, in a very unwieldy and generally harmless fashion.
Once when I was riding through the camp of the Rifles, a round shot
came plunging towards me, and before I or the horse had time to be
much frightened, the ugly fellow buried itself in the earth, with a
heavy "thud," a li