rsest of
them to fling a spadeful of dank clay directly upon the wide-open eyes
and seemingly-speaking mouth.

"Those fellows' souls," said Kent, regarding the corpses, "seem to have
left their earthly houses in such haste that they forgot to close the
doors and windows after them. Somewhere I have read of a superstition
that bodily tenements left in this way were liable to be entered and
occupied by evil spirits, and from this rose the custom of piously
closing the eyes and mouths of deceased friends."

"No worse spirit's likely to get into them than was shot out of 'em,"
growled Abe. "A Rebel with a gun is as bad an evil spirit as I ever
expect to meet. But let's go on. It's another kind of an evil spirit
that we are interested in just now--one that'll enter into and occupy
our empty canteen."

"You're right. It's the enemy that my friend Shakspere says we 'put into
our mouths to steal away our brains.' By the way, what a weary hunt he
must have in your cranium for a load worth stealing."

"Thee goes that clack-mill again. Great Caesar! if the boys only had
legs as active as your tongue what a racer the regiment would be!
Cavalry'd be nowhere."

Toward the foot of the mountain their path led them across a noisy,
swollen little creek, whose overflowing waters were dyed deeply red
and yellow by the load of hill clay they were carrying away in their
headlong haste. A little to the left lay a corpse of more striking
appearance than any they had yet seen. It was that of a tall, slender,
gracefully formed young man, clad in an officer's uniform of rich gray
cloth, lavishly ornamented with gilt buttons and gold lace. The
features were strong, but delicately cut, and the dark skin smooth
and fine-textured. One shapely hand still clasped the hilt of a richly
ornamented sword, with which he had evidently been directing his men,
and his staring gray eyes seemed yet filled with the anger of battle. A
bullet had reached him as he stood upon a little knoll, striving to stay
the headlong flight. Falling backward his head touched the edge of the
swift running water, which was now filling his long, black locks with
slimy sediment.

"The ounce o' lead that done that piece o' work," said Abe, "was
better'n a horseload o' gold. A few more used with as good judgement
would bring the rebellion to an end in short meter."

"Yes," answered Kent, "he's one of the Chivalry; one of the main props;
one of the fellows who are trying to br