After a time he aroused, for some part, and the things about him began to take form.He saw that the ground in the deep shadows was cluttered with men, sprawling in every con-ceivable posture.Glancing narrowly into the more distant darkness, he caught occasional glimpses of visages that loomed pallid and ghostly, lit with a phosphorescent glow.These faces expressed in their lines the deep stupor of the tired soldiers.They made them appear like men drunk with wine.This bit of forest might have appeared to an ethereal wanderer as a scene of the result of some frightful debauch.
On the other side of the fire the youth observed an officer asleep, seated bolt upright, with his back against a tree.There was some-thing perilous in his position.Badgered by dreams, perhaps, he swayed with little bounces and starts, like an old toddy-stricken grandfather in a chimney corner.Dust and stains were upon his face.His lower jaw hung down as if lacking strength to assume its normal position.He was the picture of an exhausted soldier after a feast of war.
He had evidently gone to sleep with his sword in his arms.These two had slumbered in an embrace, but the weapon had been allowed in time to fall unheeded to the ground.The brass-mounted hilt lay in contact with some parts of the fire.
Within the gleam of rose and orange light from the burning sticks were other soldiers, snoring and heaving, or lying deathlike in slumber.A few pairs of legs were stuck forth, rigid and straight.The shoes displayed the mud or dust of marches and bits of rounded trousers, protruding from the blankets, showed rents and tears from hurried pitchings through the dense brambles.
The fire crackled musically.From it swelled light smoke.Overhead the foliage moved softly.The leaves, with their faces turned toward the blaze, were colored shifting hues of silver, often edged with red.Far off to the right, through a window in the forest could be seen a handful of stars lying, like glittering pebbles, on the black level of the night.
Occasionally, in this low-arched hall, a soldier would arouse and turn his body to a new posi-tion, the experience of his sleep having taught him of uneven and objectionable places upon the ground under him.Or, perhaps, he would lift himself to a sitting posture, blink at the fire for an unintelligent moment, throw a swift glance at his prostrate companion, and then cuddle down again with a grunt of sleepy content.
The youth sat in a forlorn heap until his friend the loud young soldier came, swinging two canteens by their light strings."Well, now, Henry, ol' boy," said the latter, "we'll have yeh fixed up in jest about a minnit."He had the bustling ways of an ******* nurse.He fussed around the fire and stirred the sticks to brilliant exertions.He made his patient drink largely from the canteen that contained the coffee.It was to the youth a delicious draught.
He tilted his head afar back and held the canteen long to his lips.The cool mixture went caress-ingly down his blistered throat.Having finished, he sighed with comfortable delight.
The loud young soldier watched his comrade with an air of satisfaction.He later produced an extensive handkerchief from his pocket.He folded it into a manner of bandage and soused water from the other canteen upon the middle of it.This crude arrangement he bound over the youth's head, tying the ends in a queer knot at the back of the neck.
"There," he said, moving off and surveying his deed, "yeh look like th' devil, but I bet yeh feel better."The youth contemplated his friend with grate-ful eyes.Upon his aching and swelling head the cold cloth was like a tender woman's hand.
"Yeh don't holler ner say nothin'," remarked his friend approvingly."I know I'm a black-smith at takin' keer 'a sick folks, an' yeh never squeaked.Yer a good un, Henry.Most 'a men would a' been in th' hospital long ago.A shot in th' head ain't foolin' business."The youth made no reply, but began to fumble with the buttons of his jacket.
"Well, come, now," continued his friend, "come on.I must put yeh t' bed an' see that yeh git a good night's rest."The other got carefully erect, and the loud young soldier led him among the sleeping forms lying in groups and rows.Presently he stooped and picked up his blankets.He spread the rubber one upon the ground and placed the woolen one about the youth's shoulders.
"There now," he said, "lie down an' git some sleep."The youth, with his manner of doglike obe-dience, got carefully down like a crone stoop-ing.He stretched out with a murmur of relief and comfort.The ground felt like the softest couch.
But of a sudden he ejaculated: "Hol' on a minnit! Where you goin' t' sleep?"His friend waved his hand impatiently.
"Right down there by yeh."
"Well, but hol' on a minnit," continued the youth."What yeh goin' t' sleep in? I've got your--"The loud young soldier snarled: "Shet up an' go on t' sleep.Don't be makin' a damn' fool 'a yerself," he said severely.
After the reproof the youth said no more.
An exquisite drowsiness had spread through him.
The warm comfort of the blanket enveloped him and made a gentle languor.His head fell for-ward on his crooked arm and his weighted lids went softly down over his eyes.Hearing a splatter of musketry from the distance, he wondered indifferently if those men sometimes slept.He gave a long sigh, snuggled down into his blanket, and in a moment was like his com-rades.
