blue troops were burning
hayricks and fences as well as buildings. Sound, too--it seemed deathly
still here on the brim of this dead water, and yet there was sound--the
batteries, of course, down the stream where they built the bridge, but
also a dull, low, dreary murmur from across,--from the thick forest and
the lost roads, and the swamps through which guns were dragged; from the
clearings, the corn and wheat fields, the burning depots and encampments
and houses of the people--the sound of a hostile army rising from the
country where two months before it had settled. All was blended; there
came simply a whirring murmur out of the forest beyond the Chickahominy.

Steve rose, yawned, and began again to prowl. Every rood of this region
had been in possession of that humming army over there. All manner of
desirable articles were being picked up. Orders were strict. Weapons,
even injured weapons, ammunition, even half-spoiled ammunition,
gun-barrels, ramrods, bayonets, cartridge-boxes, belts--all these must
be turned in to the field ordnance officer. The South gleaned her
battlefields of every ounce of lead or iron, every weapon or part of a
weapon, every manufactured article of war. This done, the men might
appropriate or themselves distribute apparel, food, or other matters.
Steve, wandering now, his eyes on earth, saw nothing. The black wet
soil, the gnarled roots, the gloomy meanders of the stream, looked
terribly lonely. "Gawd! even the water-rats don't come here!" thought
Steve, and on his way back to the hill entered a thicket of low bushes
with shiny green leaves. Here he all but stumbled over a dead soldier in
a blue uniform. He lay on his face, arms out, hands clutching at some
reed-like grass. His rifle was beside him, haversack--all undisturbed.
"Picket," said Steve. "O Gawd, ain't war glorious?"

Not at all without imagination, he had no fondness for touching dead
men, but there were several things about this one that he wanted. He saw
that the shoes wouldn't fit, and so he left them alone. His own rifle
was back there, stacked with the others on the hot hillside, and he had
no intention of bothering with this one. If the ordnance officer wanted
it, let him come himself and get it! He exchanged cartridge-boxes, and
took the other's rolled oilcloth, and then he looked into the haversack.

Rising to his feet, he glanced about him with quick, furtive,
squirrel-like motions of his head. Cool shade, stillness, a