We collected
three quarters of our quartet and were directed to the mess-shack for the
fourth. As we approached I could hear sounds of altercation and a voice
that we placed immediately as that of our quarry arose in indignant
warning: "If yo' doan' leggo that mess-kit I'll lay a barrage down on
yo'!" A platform was improvised near a blazing fire of pine boards and we
had some excellent clogging and singing. The big basso had evidently a
strong feeling for his steel helmet, and it undoubtedly added to his
picturesqueness--setting off his features with his teeth and eyes gleaming
in the firelight.
On the evening of the second day orders came to move off on the following
morning. We were obliged to discard much material, for although the two
days' rest and food had distinctly helped out the horse situation, we had
many animals that could barely drag themselves along, much less a loaded
caisson, and our instructions were to on no account salvage ammunition. We
could spare but one horse for riding--my little mare--and she was no use
for pulling. She was a wise little animal with excellent gaits and great
endurance. We were forced to leave, behind another mare that I had ridden
a good deal on reconnaissances, and that used to amuse me by her
unalterable determination to stick to cover. It was almost most impossible
to get her to cut across a field; she preferred to skirt the woods and had
no intention of exposing herself on any sky-line.
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