stayed by him, saying what he could to comfort the troubled soul, and
fix his thoughts upon the Saviour of men, and have him ready to meet his
God.

Some of us looked reverently on with hearts full of sympathy in the
scene. It was a sight I wish the men of both armies could have looked
upon. Right on the bloody battlefield, surrounded by the dead and dying,
that Confederate soldier kneeling over that dying Federal soldier
praying for him.

Well! the long weary day of battle was closing and the fighting was
done, at last. This 10th of May was a day filled up with fun, and
fasting, and furious fighting; simple description, but _correct_.
Thirteen to sixteen lines of infantry we had broken, and repulsed,
during that day; and what between infantry and artillery we were under
fire all day from five A. M. to nine o'clock that night; had toiled all
night long, the night before; not a morsel had passed our lips all day,
but one small crustless corn cake, taken out of a wet bag that had lain
for hours, in the rain. A tired lot, we lay down that night on the wet
ground to sleep, and be ready for the morrow. We fell asleep with the
artillery still roaring on the lines, and shells still screaming about
in the dark, and slept a sound dreamless sleep all through the night.

The next day, _the 11th_, was, for the most part, quiet and uneventful!
The bloody and disastrous repulse of every effort of the enemy to force
our line, had, as it well might, discouraged any further attempt along
our front. From time to time we could hear the Federal artillery, on our
front or other parts of the line, feeling our position, with an
occasional reply from our guns.

The sharp-shooters of both sides were keeping up their own peculiar fun.
At every point of vantage, on a hill, or behind a stump, or up a leafy
tree, one of these marksmen was concealed, and would try his globe-sight
rifle on any convenient mark, in the way of a man, which offered on the
opposite line. Any fellow who exposed himself soon heard a bullet
whistle past his ear, too close for comfort. Several of us had narrow
escapes, but the only casualty we suffered was Cornelius Coyle. Coyle
was from North Carolina and it seems that the jokes we were wont to
indulge in at the expense of the "Tar Heels" had gotten him sore on the
subject. In order to show us that a "Tar Heel" was as careless of danger
as anybody else, he exposed himself, very unnecessarily, by standing on
the works and