Knudsen's miss, I now have the whole story. He had as scorer
an artillery sergeant who read the flags through field-glasses, and was
an unusually long time in scoring the last shot. At last he said "A
bull," and scored a five, which gave Knudsen a perfect record; but he,
suspecting something, made the man admit that the bulleye was in the
wrong target. Knudsen changed the score himself, a bit of personal
heroism that roused the wonder of Pickle, who told me the tale, and ended
"Chee, I couldn't a done it!"

Here is a story of Lieutenant Pendleton, told me by a man who watched the
incident. Our top-sergeant was scoring badly at six hundred yards, and
the lieutenant said, "Let me try your gun." So he lay down, and without
putting his arm in the sling, rested the gun on the bag, drew it tightly
into the shoulder by a hand-grip of the strap, and fired. It was a "two
at one o'clock," which means that the shot struck the outer side of the
target about the line, on a clock face, between one o'clock and the
centre. "Your sight is too high," said he, and corrected it. Then he
tried again, and got a "three at three o'clock," which means that he
struck on the level of the bull, but still out at the right. "You must
correct for windage," said he then. "I'll give her one and a quarter." So
once more, with the same rest and grip, he fired. Before the targets
could be changed and the shot marked the lieutenant got up, gave the gun
to the sergeant, and walked away, saying, "That's a bull's eye. You can
depend on that sighting, sergeant." Then the scorer called the shot. A
bull's eye it was, and the sergeant went on to shoot a string of them.

There is some pleasure in being drilled by such men as our officers. I
wish you could see the lieutenant on parade, in his best clothes, which
somehow are more becoming to him than the undress uniform, in which Kirby
shows best. Watch Pendleton walking with his springy, tireless step,
always with his eye on us. A dandy he is then, but one of the fighting
dandies, an athlete in good training, and a man that knows his business.

Our day was so completely taken up by the shooting that at the end it was
too late even for Retreat, and we in the middle of our washing up watched
the other battalion at parade, stood at attention while the band played
the Star-Spangled Banner, and saluted at the end. I have spent much of
the evening writing; and now, the first call having blown, the camp is
getting ready