rest and meditate. I examined myself
all over to see if I was hit, found I was unhurt but my drum had received
several bullet holes in it.

Finding a green spot I stretched myself out and listened to the awful
sound of musketry firing which was going on at the front, around me on all
sides was the debris of a deserted camp, empty tin cans, broken bayonets,
pieces of guns, fragments of bursted shell, and occasionally a whole one
that had failed to explode. I had only sat here a few moments thinking
which was the best way to go when I was joined by another Drummer Boy from
a Pennsylvania regiment. We sat down and talked over our exploits, and I
thought he was the most profane lad I had ever met. Most every other word
he uttered was an oath.

I asked him if he wasn't afraid to talk so.

"What the h--l should I be afraid of?" he asked, at the same time picking
up an old tent stake and sticking it into the ground, trying to drive it
in with the heel of his boot. Failing in this he reached over and got hold
of an unexploded shell and used this on the stake, but it was heavy and
unwieldy.

"I wonder if this was fired by those d--d rebs," he asked.

"I guess it was," I replied, "and you better look out, or it might go
off."

"Off be d--d, their shells were never worth the powder to blow 'em to
h--l, see the hole in the butt of it, it would make a G--d--d good mawl,
wouldn't it?" and looking round at the same time he found an old broom.
Stripping the brush and wire from the handle he said, "I'll make a mawl of
it and drive that d--d rebel stake into the ground with one of their own
d--d shells, be d--d if I don't." Inserting the broom handle into the end
of the shell he walked over to a stump, and taking the shell in both hands
commenced pounding onto the stick against the stump; "d--d tight fit," he
hollored to me, and the next instant I was knocked down by a terrific
explosion. I came to my senses in a minute and hastened to where he had
been standing. There the poor fellow lay unconscious and completely
covered with blood, there was hardly a shred of clothes on him, his hair
was all burned and both hands taken completely off, as if done by a
surgeon's saw.

I was excited and horror stricken for a moment. The sight was horrible,
but I quickly regained my composure, knowing that something must be done,
and done quickly. So taking the snares from my drum I wound them tightly
around his wrists to stop the flow of blood,