Chapter XXII.

When the woods again began to pour forth the dark-hued masses of the

enemy the youth felt serene self-confidence. He smiled briefly when he

saw men dodge and duck at the long screechings of shells that were

thrown in giant handfuls over them. He stood, erect and tranquil,

watching the attack begin against a part of the line that made a blue

curve along the side of an adjacent hill. His vision being unmolested

by smoke from the rifles of his companions, he had opportunities to see

parts of the hard fight. It was a relief to perceive at last from

whence came some of these noises which had been roared into his ears.

Off a short way he saw two regiments fighting a little separate battle

with two other regiments. It was in a cleared space, wearing a

set-apart look. They were blazing as if upon a wager, giving and taking

tremendous blows. The firings were incredibly fierce and rapid. These

intent regiments apparently were oblivious of all larger purposes of

war, and were slugging each other as if at a matched game.

In another direction he saw a magnificent brigade going with the

evident intention of driving the enemy from a wood. They passed in out

of sight and presently there was a most awe-inspiring racket in the

wood. The noise was unspeakable. Having stirred this prodigious uproar,

and, apparently, finding it too prodigious, the brigade, after a little

time, came marching airily out again with its fine formation in nowise

disturbed. There were no traces of speed in its movements. The brigade

was jaunty and seemed to point a proud thumb at the yelling wood.

On a slope to the left there was a long row of guns, gruff and

maddened, denouncing the enemy, who, down through the woods, were

forming for another attack in the pitiless monotony of conflicts. The

round red discharges from the guns made a crimson flare and a high,

thick smoke. Occasional glimpses could be caught of groups of the

toiling artillerymen. In the rear of this row of guns stood a house,

calm and white, amid bursting shells. A congregation of horses, tied to

a long railing, were tugging frenziedly at their bridles. Men were

running hither and thither.

The detached battle between the four regiments lasted for some time.

There chanced to be no interference, and they settled their dispute by

themselves. They struck savagely and powerfully at each other for a

period of minutes, and then the lighter-hued regiments faltered and

drew back, leaving the dark-blue lines shouting. The youth could see

the two flags shaking with laughter amid the smoke remnants.

Presently there was a stillness, pregnant with meaning. The blue lines

shifted and changed a trifle and stared expectantly at the silent woods

and fields before them. The hush was solemn and churchlike, save for a

distant battery that, evidently unable to remain quiet, sent a faint

rolling thunder over the ground. It irritated, like the noises of

unimpressed boys. The men imagined that it would prevent their perched

ears from hearing the first words of the new battle.

Of a sudden the guns on the slope roared out a message of warning. A

spluttering sound had begun in the woods. It swelled with amazing speed

to a profound clamor that involved the earth in noises. The splitting

crashes swept along the lines until an interminable roar was developed.

To those in the midst of it it became a din fitted to the universe. It

was the whirring and thumping of gigantic machinery, complications

among the smaller stars. The youth’s ears were filled cups. They were

incapable of hearing more.

On an incline over which a road wound he saw wild and desperate rushes

of men perpetually backward and forward in riotous surges. These parts

of the opposing armies were two long waves that pitched upon each other

madly at dictated points. To and fro they swelled. Sometimes, one side

by its yells and cheers would proclaim decisive blows, but a moment

later the other side would be all yells and cheers. Once the youth saw

a spray of light forms go in houndlike leaps toward the waving blue

lines. There was much howling, and presently it went away with a vast

mouthful of prisoners. Again, he saw a blue wave dash with such

thunderous force against a gray obstruction that it seemed to clear the

earth of it and leave nothing but trampled sod. And always in their

swift and deadly rushes to and fro the men screamed and yelled like

maniacs.

Particular pieces of fence or secure positions behind collections of

trees were wrangled over, as gold thrones or pearl bedsteads. There

were desperate lunges at these chosen spots seemingly every instant,

and most of them were bandied like light toys between the contending

forces. The youth could not tell from the battle flags flying like

crimson foam in many directions which color of cloth was winning.

His emaciated regiment bustled forth with undiminished fierceness when

its time came. When assaulted again by bullets, the men burst out in a

barbaric cry of rage and pain. They bent their heads in aims of intent

hatred behind the projected hammers of their guns. Their ramrods

clanged loud with fury as their eager arms pounded the cartridges into

the rifle barrels. The front of the regiment was a smoke-wall

penetrated by the flashing points of yellow and red.

Wallowing in the fight, they were in an astonishingly short time

resmudged. They surpassed in stain and dirt all their previous

appearances. Moving to and fro with strained exertion, jabbering all

the while, they were, with their swaying bodies, black faces, and

glowing eyes, like strange and ugly fiends jigging heavily in the

smoke.

The lieutenant, returning from a tour after a bandage, produced from a

hidden receptacle of his mind new and portentous oaths suited to the

emergency. Strings of expletives he swung lashlike over the backs of

his men, and it was evident that his previous efforts had in nowise

impaired his resources.

The youth, still the bearer of the colors, did not feel his idleness.

He was deeply absorbed as a spectator. The crash and swing of the great

drama made him lean forward, intent-eyed, his face working in small

contortions. Sometimes he prattled, words coming unconsciously from him

in grotesque exclamations. He did not know that he breathed; that the

flag hung silently over him, so absorbed was he.

A formidable line of the enemy came within dangerous range. They could

be seen plainly—tall, gaunt men with excited faces running with long

strides toward a wandering fence.

At sight of this danger the men suddenly ceased their cursing monotone.

There was an instant of strained silence before they threw up their

rifles and fired a plumping volley at the foes. There had been no order

given; the men, upon recognizing the menace, had immediately let drive

their flock of bullets without waiting for word of command.

But the enemy were quick to gain the protection of the wandering line

of fence. They slid down behind it with remarkable celerity, and from

this position they began briskly to slice up the blue men.

These latter braced their energies for a great struggle. Often, white

clinched teeth shone from the dusky faces. Many heads surged to and

fro, floating upon a pale sea of smoke. Those behind the fence

frequently shouted and yelped in taunts and gibelike cries, but the

regiment maintained a stressed silence. Perhaps, at this new assault

the men recalled the fact that they had been named mud diggers, and it

made their situation thrice bitter. They were breathlessly intent upon

keeping the ground and thrusting away the rejoicing body of the enemy.

They fought swiftly and with a despairing savageness denoted in their

expressions.

The youth had resolved not to budge whatever should happen. Some arrows

of scorn that had buried themselves in his heart had generated strange

and unspeakable hatred. It was clear to him that his final and absolute

revenge was to be achieved by his dead body lying, torn and gluttering,

upon the field. This was to be a poignant retaliation upon the officer

who had said “mule drivers,” and later “mud diggers,” for in all the

wild graspings of his mind for a unit responsible for his sufferings

and commotions he always seized upon the man who had dubbed him

wrongly. And it was his idea, vaguely formulated, that his corpse would

be for those eyes a great and salt reproach.

The regiment bled extravagantly. Grunting bundles of blue began to

drop. The orderly sergeant of the youth’s company was shot through the

cheeks. Its supports being injured, his jaw hung afar down, disclosing

in the wide cavern of his mouth a pulsing mass of blood and teeth. And

with it all he made attempts to cry out. In his endeavor there was a

dreadful earnestness, as if he conceived that one great shriek would

make him well.

The youth saw him presently go rearward. His strength seemed in nowise

impaired. He ran swiftly, casting wild glances for succor.

Others fell down about the feet of their companions. Some of the

wounded crawled out and away, but many lay still, their bodies twisted

into impossible shapes.

The youth looked once for his friend. He saw a vehement young man,

powder-smeared and frowzled, whom he knew to be him. The lieutenant,

also, was unscathed in his position at the rear. He had continued to

curse, but it was now with the air of a man who was using his last box

of oaths.

For the fire of the regiment had begun to wane and drip. The robust

voice, that had come strangely from the thin ranks, was growing rapidly

weak.