g cries, as they lay helpless
in the trenches, calling most piteously for water, caused many a tear
to steal down the cheeks of their comrades in arms, and stout hearts
shook in the performance of their duty.

"Water!" "Water!" But, alas! there was none to give.

Roused as they had been from peaceful dreams to meet an assault so
early and so unexpected, no time was left them to do aught but buckle
on their armor.

"Boys!" exclaimed a lad of eighteen, the color-bearer of one of the
regiments, "I can't stand this any longer. My nature can't bear it.
They want water, and water they must have. So let me have a few
canteens, and I'll go for some."

Carefully laying the colors, which he had conspicuously borne on many
a field, in the trench, he leaped out in search of water, and was
soon, owing to the heavy mist, out of sight.

Shortly afterwards the firing ceased for a while, and there came a
courier with orders to fall back to the main line, a distance of over
twelve hundred yards to the rear. It had, doubtless, become evident to
General Lee that Hooker had crossed the river in sufficient force to
advance.

The retreating column had not proceeded far when it met the noble
youth, his canteens all filled with water, returning to the sufferers,
who were still lying in the distant trenches. The eyes of the
soldier-boy, who had oftentimes tenderly and lovingly gazed upon the
war-worn and faded flag floating over the ranks, now saw it not. The
troops, in their hurry to obey orders and owing, probably, to the
heavy mist that surrounded them, had overlooked or forgotten the
colors.

On sped the color-bearer back to the trenches to relieve the thirst of
his wounded companions as well as to save the honor of his regiment by
rescuing its colors.

His mission of mercy was soon accomplished. The wounded men drank
freely, thanked and blessed him. And now to seize the flag and
double-quick back to his regiment was the thought and act of a moment.
But hardly had he gone ten paces from the ditch when a company of
Federal soldiers appeared ascending the hill. The voice of an officer
sternly commanded him to "Halt and surrender!" The morning sun,
piercing with a lurid glare the dense mist, reveals a hundred rifles
levelled at his breast. One moment more and his soul is to pass into
eternity, for his answer is, "Never while I hold these colors."

But why is he not fired upon? Why do we still see him with the colors
flying above hi