“And I!”—muttered each malcontent in his turn.
For even so freely would the best disciplined soldiers canvass the characters of their superior officers, in their absence.
“I’ll tell you what, boys,” said Sergeant Hay, “you are talking of one you know nothing about. Captain Wing has been in the service less than a year and has already distinguished himself on several notable occasions.”
“Oh yes! we dare say he made a very good spy to creep into guerrilla camps. We heard all about that. And no doubt he was a very fair accountant and kept the regimental books in good order. But we want to see him under fire before we throw up our caps and hurrah for him as our captain,” laughed West.
“He has been under fire a score of times and never blenched. And I can tell you this, my comrades: When you do see him under fire, you will see one who will not drive you like sheep, but lead you like men. You will see one who will not get behind a tree during the engagement and cry—‘Go on, boys!’ as some of our gallant officers have done; but who will dash on in advance and shout to you—‘Come on, boys!’ And if he does not inspire your whole company with valor, I know nothing of him.”
“We shall see,” said Sergeant Jones, incredulously.
“We shall see,” echoed the others.
Very soon they had an opportunity of seeing.
The next morning the third battalion of the regiment under Major Kerr, the same battalion to which Company K belonged, was ordered to march to P. to destroy certain saltpetre works belonging to the enemy. P. was a well fortified town, distant about forty miles from C., and the intervening country was infested with guerrillas.
The orders were issued at seven o’clock in the morning. By half-past seven the battalion was under arms, with two days’ rations. And at eight o’clock they marched.