up that bank.
An army's bravest men are its cowards. The death which they would not meet
at the hands of the enemy they will meet at the hands of their officers,
with never a flinching.

Whenever a steamboat would land, this abominable mob had to be kept off
her with bayonets; when she pulled away, they sprang on her and were
pushed by scores into the water, where they were suffered to drown one
another in their own way. The men disembarking insulted them, shoved them,
struck them. In return they expressed their unholy delight in the
certainty of our destruction by the enemy.

By the time my regiment had reached the plateau night had put an end to
the struggle. A sputter of rifles would break out now and then, followed
perhaps by a spiritless hurrah. Occasionally a shell from a far-away
battery would come pitching down somewhere near, with a whir crescendo, or
flit above our heads with a whisper like that made by the wings of a night
bird, to smother itself in the river. But there was no more fighting. The
gunboats, however, blazed away at set intervals all night long, just to
make the enemy uncomfortable and break him of his rest.

For us there was no rest. Foot by foot we moved through the dusky fields,
we knew not whither. There were men all about us, but no camp-fires; to
have made a blaze would have been madness. The men were of strange
regiments; they mentioned the names of unknown generals. They gathered in
groups by the wayside, asking eagerly our numbers. They recounted the
depressing incidents of the day. A thoughtful officer shut their mouths
with a sharp word as he passed; a wise one coming after encouraged them to
repeat their doleful tale all along the line.

Hidden in hollows and behind clumps of rank brambles were large tents,
dimly lighted with candles, but looking comfortable. The kind of comfort
they supplied was indicated by pairs of men entering and reappearing,
bearing litters; by low moans from within and by long rows of dead with
covered faces outside. These tents were constantly receiving the wounded,
yet were never full; they were continually ejecting the dead, yet were
never empty. It was as if the helpless had been carried in and murdered,
that they might not hamper those whose business it was to fall to-morrow.

The night was now black-dark; as is usual after a battle, it had begun to
rain. Still we moved; we were being put into position by somebody. Inch by
inch we crept along, treading