toons were ranged for their turns. Companies I and J came marching
on, and before very long we were rapidly getting used to the orderly
disorder of the range. The coaches were called up for their opening try,
and suddenly I heard the order for the first round to begin. The shots
began to rap out, sharp and heavy.

Behind each set of three targets a platoon was stationed. The men stood
and watched, or sat and waited, or lay and tried their squeeze.
Orderlies, sergeants, and platoon commanders hurried to and fro. Loretta
came to our group and said "Don't stand there, men, like a flock of
sheep"; but when we paid no attention, faded away. The Captain's powerful
voice was every few moments heard: "Another man here on target 36.
Fleming in hospital? Then send up the next man. We must waste no time."
"Ammunition here at No. 27." "Every man ready with his score card and his
score book." In but a few minutes the firing, which at the first was so
noticeable, became a commonplace, yet it was worth listening to. From
along the line came scattered reports, like the blows of a heavy rod on
very heavy carpet, now slowly separate, now close together, now sharply
double. In answer the whip-like echoes slashed out from the woods. The
drab men stood, or sauntered, or hurried; the figures of the shooters lay
prone, each with an eager coach crouching over him, correcting his
position, urging steadiness, repeating "Squeeze! Squeeze!" Behind the
line sat scorers at their wooden stands, behind them the first sergeant
received the records. The company flags, marking the line beyond which
the waiting men might not advance, flapped steadily in the breeze.

And in front of all, three hundred yards away, stood up the gray
sandbank, the stopper of the bullets. Some shots went over, to land in
the distant woods beyond, whose encircling signs warn all wanderers to
keep out. "There are hornets in those woods today, gentlemen," said the
captain yesterday as we passed beyond the range. "We will keep away."
There are thirty-six blackboards numbered in order, and between them are
the great targets of manila paper, with their circles and the heavy spot
at the centre. As a man shoots his target sinks, its mate immediately
rises in the same spot, and then upon its face appears, moved by the
markers concealed in the pit below, the record of the shot. A red flag
slowly waved--a miss!--a black cross on a white circle, a red disk, or
best of all, a white disk th