odlike
creatures whom mosquitos do not bite nor ticks molest. His nights were
as peaceful as the grave, and the poisonous drinking-waters glanced from
his rubber constitution. Besides, he had forsaken his regimental duties
to enjoy a life of constant variety upon the staff of a general, and had
begun to feel at home on horseback. It was one of those radiant, smiling
days, which later on were to become rarer than charity, and the woods
were positively festive with sunshine. And the temperature was precisely
that which brings to a young man's fancy thoughts of love. So that it
was in the nature of a shock to come suddenly upon the shore and behold
for the first time the finality of war. There was no visible glory
about it. What had happened to the Cumberland and the Congress was
disappointingly like what would happen to two ships destroyed in shallow
water. The masts of the Cumberland, slightly off the vertical and still
rigged, projected for half their length from the yellow surface of the
river. That was all. Some distance to the left and half submerged was a
blackened and charred mass that bore some resemblance to a ship that had
once been proud and tall, and known by the name of Congress. That
was all. Aladdin had hoped that war would be a little more like the
pictures.

As he rode back, pondering, toward the encampment, however, he came upon
something which was truly an earnest of what was to come. There were so
many buzzards perched in the trees of a certain wood that he turned in
to see what they had. He came upon it suddenly, just beyond a cheerful
bush of holly, and the buzzards stepped reluctantly back until he had
looked. It was only a horse. Some of the buzzards, heavy with food,
raised their eyelids heavily and looked at Aladdin, and then lapsed
back into filthy sleep. Others, not yet satiated, looked upon him
querulously, and suggested as much as looks can suggest that he go, and
trouble them no more. Others, the newly arrived and ravenous, swooped
above the trees, so that dark circles were drawn over the fallen
sunlight. Now a buzzard opened and closed its wings, and now one looked
from the horse to Aladdin, and back, fretfully, to the horse. There
seemed to be hundreds of them, dark and dirty, with raw heads and
eyelids. Aladdin sat solemn and motionless upon his horse, but he could
feel the cold sweat of horror running down his sides from under his
arms, and the bristling of his hair. He wanted to make a