ort wagons were driven, and here the dead were laid
out and the wounded attended to.

A deadly morning's work it had proved. Five infantrymen had been killed,
twelve were wounded badly enough to be out of the fighting lists for
the present, while twenty-two others, though more or less wounded, were
still fit for duty.

"Now, chum, you see what follows the fighting," murmured Hal in Noll's
ear. "How do you like what follows the fighting?"

"It looks some grim," Sergeant Terry admitted, wrapping his left hand
where a creese had made a gash. "But what are we here for, and why are
we soldiers, if this sort of thing doesn't appeal to us?"

"I'm afraid you're hopelessly blood-thirsty," smiled Hal.

"No; I'm not. I enlisted because I believed I'd like the soldier life,
and fighting is the highest expression of the soldier's work."

"Hello, there, 'Long'!" called Private Kelly.

"Yes?" answered Private William Green, turning at the hail.

"Did you bring along your kantab and pass plenty of it to the goo-goos?"

"I'll make no money here," grunted William disdaining to answer Kelly's
teasing question. "There's no chance to spend money here, so none of the
fellows will borrow from me."

"Making no money?" Kelly rebuked him. "Man, isn't your government pay
running along, and ain't ye glad ye're here to be drawing it?"

"I don't like this fighting business," grumbled Slosson.

"Why not?" inquired Kelly in mild surprise.

"In that hike I lost my pipe. Lucky for me I brought two more along in
my pack. I'll get one of them out, now. Want the other, Kelly?"

"I do not, lad, and my thanks to you. Slosson, I'm beginning to think we
ought to force the brown men to accept pipes. If they smoked 'em the way
you do yours there'd soon be fewer of the pesky brown goo-goos in this
land."

CHAPTER XX

CORPORAL DUXBRIDGE'S MISTAKE

Fortunately there was water, a clear, cool spring of it just below the
trench line. As soon as the men were rested, Captain Freeman detailed a
score of them to haul water up into camp.

"Don't get into groups, you water carriers, either," Lieutenant Prescott
called after the men as they started down the slope with buckets. "Keep
apart. If you don't, some of the Moros in the distance will be taking
pot-shots and getting some of you."

The day wore on, and it looked as though the Moros were still running.

"I'd hate to have to take ten men and fight all of the enemy who are
within two thousa