Chapter: WHEN another night came the columns, changed to purple streaks, filed
across two pontoon bridges.  A glaring fire wine-tinted the waters of
the river.  Its rays, shining upon the moving masses of troops, brought
forth here and there sudden gleams of silver or gold.  Upon the other
shore a dark and mysterious range of hills was curved against the sky.
The insect voices of the night sang solemnly.

After this crossing the youth assured himself that at any moment they
might be suddenly and fearfully assaulted from the caves of the
lowering woods.  He kept his eyes watchfully upon the darkness.

But his regiment went unmolested to a camping place, and its soldiers
slept the brave sleep of wearied men.  In the morning they were routed
out with early energy, and hustled along a narrow road that led deep
into the forest.

It was during this rapid march that the regiment lost many of the marks
of a new command.

The men had begun to count the miles upon their fingers, and they grew
tired.  "Sore feet an' damned short rations, that's all," said the loud
soldier.  There was perspiration and grumblings.  After a time they
began to shed their knapsacks.  Some tossed them unconcernedly down;
others hid them carefully, asserting their plans to return for them at
some convenient time.  Men extricated themselves from thick shirts.
Presently few carried anything but their necessary clothing, blankets,
haversacks, canteens, and arms and ammunition.  "You can now eat and
shoot," said the tall soldier to the youth. "That's all you want to do."

There was sudden change from the ponderous infantry of theory to the
light and speedy infantry of practice.  The regiment, relieved of a
burden, received a new impetus.  But there was much loss of valuable
knapsacks, and, on the whole, very good shirts.

But the regiment was not yet veteranlike in appearance.  Veteran
regiments in the army were likely to be very small aggregations of men.
Once, when the command had first come to the field, some perambulating
veterans, noting the length of their column, had accosted them thus:
"Hey, fellers, what brigade is that?"  And when the men had replied
that they formed a regiment and not a brigade, the older soldiers had
laughed, and said, "O Gawd!"

Also, there was too great a similarity in the hats.  The hats of a
regiment should properly represent the history of headgear for a period
of years.  And, moreover, there were no letters of faded gold speaking
from the colors.  They were new and beautiful, and the color bearer
habitually oiled the pole.

Presently the army again sat down to think. The odor of the peaceful
pines was in the men's nostrils.  The sound of monotonous axe blows
rang through the forest, and the insects, nodding upon their perches,
crooned like old women. The youth returned to his theory of a blue
demonstration.

One gray dawn, however, he was kicked in the leg by the tall soldier,
and then, before he was entirely awake, he found himself running down a
wood road in the midst of men who were panting from the first effects
of speed.  His canteen banged rhythmically upon his thigh, and his
haversack bobbed softly.  His musket bounced a trifle from his shoulder
at each stride and made his cap feel uncertain upon his head.

He could hear the men whisper jerky sentences: "Say--what's all
this--about?"  "What th' thunder--we--skedaddlin' this way fer?"
"Billie--keep off m' feet.  Yeh run--like a cow." And the loud
soldier's shrill voice could be heard: "What th' devil they in sich a
hurry for?"

The youth thought the damp fog of early morning moved from the rush of
a great body of troops.  From the distance came a sudden spatter of
firing.

He was bewildered.  As he ran with his comrades he strenuously tried to
think, but all he knew was that if he fell down those coming behind
would tread upon him.  All his faculties seemed to be needed to guide
him over and past obstructions.  He felt carried along by a mob.

The sun spread disclosing rays, and, one by one, regiments burst into
view like armed men just born of the earth.  The youth perceived that
the time had come.  He was about to be measured.  For a moment he felt
in the face of his great trial like a babe, and the flesh over his
heart seemed very thin.  He seized time to look about him calculatingly.

But he instantly saw that it would be impossible for him to escape from
the regiment.  It inclosed him.  And there were iron laws of tradition
and law on four sides.  He was in a moving box.

As he perceived this fact it occurred to him that he had never wished
to come to the war. He had not enlisted of his free will.  He had been
dragged by the merciless government.  And now they were taking him out
to be slaughtered.

The regiment slid down a bank and wallowed across a little stream.  The
mournful current moved slowly on, and from the water, shaded black,
some white bubble eyes looked at the men.

As they climbed the hill on the farther side artillery began to boom.
Here the youth forgot many things as he felt a sudden impulse of
curiosity.  He scrambled up the bank with a speed that could not be
exceeded by a bloodthirsty man.

He expected a battle scene.

There were some little fields girted and squeezed by a forest.  Spread
over the grass and in among the tree trunks, he could see knots and
waving lines of skirmishers who were running hither and thither and
firing at the landscape. A dark battle line lay upon a sunstruck
clearing that gleamed orange color.  A flag fluttered.

Other regiments floundered up the bank.  The brigade was formed in line
of battle, and after a pause started slowly through the woods in the
rear of the receding skirmishers, who were continually melting into the
scene to appear again farther on.  They were always busy as bees,
deeply absorbed in their little combats.

The youth tried to observe everything.  He did not use care to avoid
trees and branches, and his forgotten feet were constantly knocking
against stones or getting entangled in briers. He was aware that these
battalions with their commotions were woven red and startling into the
gentle fabric of softened greens and browns. It looked to be a wrong
place for a battle field.

The skirmishers in advance fascinated him. Their shots into thickets
and at distant and prominent trees spoke to him of tragedies--hidden,
mysterious, solemn.

Once the line encountered the body of a dead soldier.  He lay upon his
back staring at the sky. He was dressed in an awkward suit of yellowish
brown.  The youth could see that the soles of his shoes had been worn
to the thinness of writing paper, and from a great rent in one the dead
foot projected piteously.  And it was as if fate had betrayed the
soldier.  In death it exposed to his enemies that poverty which in life
he had perhaps concealed from his friends.

The ranks opened covertly to avoid the corpse. The invulnerable dead
man forced a way for himself.  The youth looked keenly at the ashen
face. The wind raised the tawny beard.  It moved as if a hand were
stroking it.  He vaguely desired to walk around and around the body and
stare; the impulse of the living to try to read in dead eyes the answer
to the Question.

During the march the ardor which the youth had acquired when out of
view of the field rapidly faded to nothing.  His curiosity was quite
easily satisfied.  If an intense scene had caught him with its wild
swing as he came to the top of the bank, he might have gone roaring on.
This advance upon Nature was too calm.  He had opportunity to reflect.
He had time in which to wonder about himself and to attempt to probe
his sensations.

Absurd ideas took hold upon him.  He thought that he did not relish the
landscape. It threatened him.  A coldness swept over his back, and it
is true that his trousers felt to him that they were no fit for his
legs at all.

A house standing placidly in distant fields had to him an ominous look.
The shadows of the woods were formidable.  He was certain that in this
vista there lurked fierce-eyed hosts.  The swift thought came to him
that the generals did not know what they were about.  It was all a
trap.  Suddenly those close forests would bristle with rifle barrels.
Ironlike brigades would appear in the rear.  They were all going to be
sacrificed.  The generals were stupids.  The enemy would presently
swallow the whole command.  He glared about him, expecting to see the
stealthy approach of his death.

He thought that he must break from the ranks and harangue his comrades.
They must not all be killed like pigs; and he was sure it would come to
pass unless they were informed of these dangers.  The generals were
idiots to send them marching into a regular pen.  There was but one
pair of eyes in the corps.  He would step forth and make a speech.
Shrill and passionate words came to his lips.

The line, broken into moving fragments by the ground, went calmly on
through fields and woods. The youth looked at the men nearest him, and
saw, for the most part, expressions of deep interest, as if they were
investigating something that had fascinated them.  One or two stepped
with overvaliant airs as if they were already plunged into war.  Others
walked as upon thin ice.  The greater part of the untested men appeared
quiet and absorbed.  They were going to look at war, the red
animal--war, the blood-swollen god.  And they were deeply engrossed in
this march.

As he looked the youth gripped his outcry at his throat.  He saw that
even if the men were tottering with fear they would laugh at his
warning.  They would jeer him, and, if practicable, pelt him with
missiles.  Admitting that he might be wrong, a frenzied declamation of
the kind would turn him into a worm.

He assumed, then, the demeanor of one who knows that he is doomed alone
to unwritten responsibilities.  He lagged, with tragic glances at the
sky.

He was surprised presently by the young lieutenant of his company, who
began heartily to beat him with a sword, calling out in a loud and
insolent voice: "Come, young man, get up into ranks there.  No
skulking'll do here."  He mended his pace with suitable haste.  And he
hated the lieutenant, who had no appreciation of fine minds.  He was a
mere brute.

After a time the brigade was halted in the cathedral light of a forest.
The busy skirmishers were still popping.  Through the aisles of the
wood could be seen the floating smoke from their rifles.  Sometimes it
went up in little balls, white and compact.

During this halt many men in the regiment began erecting tiny hills in
front of them.  They used stones, sticks, earth, and anything they
thought might turn a bullet.  Some built comparatively large ones,
while others seemed content with little ones.

This procedure caused a discussion among the men.  Some wished to fight
like duelists, believing it to be correct to stand erect and be, from
their feet to their foreheads, a mark.  They said they scorned the
devices of the cautious.  But the others scoffed in reply, and pointed
to the veterans on the flanks who were digging at the ground like
terriers.  In a short time there was quite a barricade along the
regimental fronts. Directly, however, they were ordered to withdraw
from that place.

This astounded the youth.  He forgot his stewing over the advance
movement.  "Well, then, what did they march us out here for?" he
demanded of the tall soldier.  The latter with calm faith began a heavy
explanation, although he had been compelled to leave a little
protection of stones and dirt to which he had devoted much care and
skill.

When the regiment was aligned in another position each man's regard for
his safety caused another line of small intrenchments.  They ate their
noon meal behind a third one.  They were moved from this one also. They
were marched from place to place with apparent aimlessness.

The youth had been taught that a man became another thing in a battle.
He saw his salvation in such a change.  Hence this waiting was an
ordeal to him.  He was in a fever of impatience.  He considered that
there was denoted a lack of purpose on the part of the generals. He
began to complain to the tall soldier.  "I can't stand this much
longer," he cried.  "I don't see what good it does to make us wear out
our legs for nothin'."  He wished to return to camp, knowing that this
affair was a blue demonstration; or else to go into a battle and
discover that he had been a fool in his doubts, and was, in truth, a
man of traditional courage. The strain of present circumstances he felt
to be intolerable.

The philosophical tall soldier measured a sandwich of cracker and pork
and swallowed it in a nonchalant manner.  "Oh, I suppose we must go
reconnoitering around the country jest to keep 'em from getting too
close, or to develop 'em, or something."

"Huh!" said the loud soldier.

"Well," cried the youth, still fidgeting, "I'd rather do anything 'most
than go tramping 'round the country all day doing no good to nobody and
jest tiring ourselves out."

"So would I," said the loud soldier.  "It ain't right.  I tell you if
anybody with any sense was a-runnin' this army it--"

"Oh, shut up!" roared the tall private.  "You little fool.  You little
damn' cuss.  You ain't had that there coat and them pants on for six
months, and yet you talk as if--"

"Well, I wanta do some fighting anyway," interrupted the other.  "I
didn't come here to walk.  I could 'ave walked to home--'round an'
'round the barn, if I jest wanted to walk."

The tall one, red-faced, swallowed another sandwich as if taking poison
in despair.

But gradually, as he chewed, his face became again quiet and contented.
He could not rage in fierce argument in the presence of such
sandwiches.  During his meals he always wore an air of blissful
contemplation of the food he had swallowed.  His spirit seemed then to
be communing with the viands.

He accepted new environment and circumstance with great coolness,
eating from his haversack at every opportunity.  On the march he went
along with the stride of a hunter, objecting to neither gait nor
distance.  And he had not raised his voice when he had been ordered
away from three little protective piles of earth and stone, each of
which had been an engineering feat worthy of being made sacred to the
name of his grandmother.

In the afternoon the regiment went out over the same ground it had
taken in the morning.  The landscape then ceased to threaten the youth.
He had been close to it and become familiar with it.

When, however, they began to pass into a new region, his old fears of
stupidity and incompetence reassailed him, but this time he doggedly
let them babble.  He was occupied with his problem, and in his
desperation he concluded that the stupidity did not greatly matter.

Once he thought he had concluded that it would be better to get killed
directly and end his troubles.  Regarding death thus out of the corner
of his eye, he conceived it to be nothing but rest, and he was filled
with a momentary astonishment that he should have made an extraordinary
commotion over the mere matter of getting killed.  He would die; he
would go to some place where he would be understood. It was useless to
expect appreciation of his profound and fine senses from such men as
the lieutenant.  He must look to the grave for comprehension.

The skirmish fire increased to a long chattering sound.  With it was
mingled far-away cheering.  A battery spoke.

Directly the youth would see the skirmishers running.  They were
pursued by the sound of musketry fire.  After a time the hot, dangerous
flashes of the rifles were visible.  Smoke clouds went slowly and
insolently across the fields like observant phantoms.  The din became
crescendo, like the roar of an oncoming train.

A brigade ahead of them and on the right went into action with a
rending roar.  It was as if it had exploded.  And thereafter it lay
stretched in the distance behind a long gray wall, that one was obliged
to look twice at to make sure that it was smoke.

The youth, forgetting his neat plan of getting killed, gazed spell
bound.  His eyes grew wide and busy with the action of the scene.  His
mouth was a little ways open.

Of a sudden he felt a heavy and sad hand laid upon his shoulder.
Awakening from his trance of observation he turned and beheld the loud
soldier.

"It's my first and last battle, old boy," said the latter, with intense
gloom.  He was quite pale and his girlish lip was trembling.

"Eh?" murmured the youth in great astonishment.

"It's my first and last battle, old boy," continued the loud soldier.
"Something tells me--"

"What?"

"I'm a gone coon this first time and--and I w-want you to take these
here things--to--my--folks."  He ended in a quavering sob of pity for
himself.  He handed the youth a little packet done up in a yellow
envelope.

"Why, what the devil--" began the youth again.

But the other gave him a glance as from the depths of a tomb, and
raised his limp hand in a prophetic manner and turned away.

 The regiment rests during the second day of their march, and that night, they cross a bridge and sleep again. On the morning of the third day, they again move out and march to a forest. They remain there for several days. The regiment rests during the second day of their march, and that night, they cross a bridge and sleep again. On the morning of the third day, they again move out and march to a forest. They remain there for several days. On "one gray dawn" the whole regiment begins to run as if running toward a battle, but there is no battle. The regiment walks and then halts, and the soldiers continue to move from place to place. There is much grumbling among the men because of the constant walking and stopping. On occasion, the regiment sees skirmishers in the distance and hears the sounds of battle. The regiment comes upon a dead soldier, and Henry tries "to read in dead eyes the answer to the Question." Henry continues to challenge, internally, the intelligence of the generals who are directing the troop movements, and he feels hatred toward the lieutenant who enforces troop discipline by keeping him marching in rank. Henry considers that if he were to die quickly, he could end his anguish. The regiment comes upon a battle in the distance, and the men begin to prepare for battle. As the chapter ends, the loud soldier tells Henry that he expects to die in battle, and he hands Henry a packet which he asks Henry to take to his family.

