torn to ribbons where he had bared and bandaged a flesh wound in the
arm, Edward Cary straightened himself and wiped away the sweat and
powder grime which blinded him. An officer's voice came out of the murk.
"The general asks for volunteers to strip the field of cartridges."
There were four men lying together, killed by the same shell. The head
of one was gone, the legs of another; the third was disembowelled, the
fourth had his breast crushed in. Their cartridge boxes when opened were
found to be half full. Edward emptied them into the haversack he carried
and went on to the next. This was a boy of sixteen, not dead yet,
moaning like a wounded hound. Edward gave him the little water that was
in his canteen, took four cartridges from his box, and crept on. A minie
sang by him, struck a yard away, full in the forehead of the dead man
toward whom he was making. The dead man had a smile upon his lips; it
was as though he mocked the bullet. All the field running back from the
railroad cuts and embankment was overstormed by shot and shell, and
everywhere from the field rose groans and cries for water. The word
"water" never ceased from use. _Water!--Water, Water!--Water!--Water!_
On it went, mournfully, like a wind.--_Water!--Water!_ Edward gathered
cartridges steadily. All manner of things were wont to come into his
mind. Just now it was a certain field behind Greenwood covered with
blackberry bushes--and the hot August sunshine--and he and Easter's Jim
gathering blackberries while Mammy watched from beneath a tree. He heard
again the little thud of the berries into the bucket. He took the
cartridges from two young men--brothers from the resemblance and from
the fact that, falling together, one, the younger, had pillowed his head
on the other's breast, while the elder's arm was around him. They lay
like children in sleep. The next man was elderly, a lonely,
rugged-looking person with a face slightly contorted and a great hole in
his breast. The next that Edward came to was badly hurt, but not too
badly to take an interest. "Cartridges?--yes, five. I'm awful
thirsty!--Well, never mind. Maybe it will rain. Who's charging now?
Heintzelman, Kearney, and Reno--Got 'em all? You can draw one from my
gun, too. I was just loading when I got hit. Well, sorry you got to go!
It's mighty lonely lying here."
Edward returned to the front, gave up his haversack, and got another. As
he turned to resume the cartridge quest there arose a
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