"I see a long stretch of land, my boy," Colonel Austin went on, "and a fine white light-house on the farthest point. G. W., I'll bet you don't know what this light-house looks like!"
"I bet I doesn't!" G. W. spoke in a whisper, his eyes shut.
"In a few hours, G. W., we will swing into the bay." G. W. shuddered. The idea of swinging into anything made him ill afresh. "And then they will put you on a litter, old man, and I will walk beside you up to—up to—are you listening, G. W.?"
"Yes, sah!" Then a quiver passed over G. W.'s face. "I thought," he whispered, "I done thought I smelled land!"
"And so you do, old fellow," said the Colonel, cheerily. "Here, let me lift you up. Now, G. W., open your eyes! See the light-house shining like a slim white finger? That's Montauk Point, comrade, stretching along in the sea. They are going to land us here to rest a bit before we go home. Are you understanding, my child?"
G. W. lay staring at the scene with his great, round, soft eyes. The smell of the land was in his nostrils and presently he smiled a beautiful, satisfied smile, and Colonel Austin whispered, "Thank God!" under breath.
"Colonel," G. W. said, low, "you jes' fetch my clo'es! I'se goin' ter land wid my soldier-clo'es all on. Dat smell done cure me for sure! Dat's a mighty fine smell, Colonel, dat is!"
Some hours later the transport cast anchor in the lovely bay. In the early morning, when the sunlight danced upon the shining waves, never was there a fairer sight to greet sick, home-longing eyes.
At last it was G. W.'s turn to be carried up the gang-plank. Very gently they placed him upon the litter, and his Colonel walked beside it and held the small, weak hand. G. W. closed his eyes, for the excitement made him tremble, and lately he had had trouble with growing tearful on every possible occasion, and had had to squeeze his eyelids together hard.
They were carrying him along up somewhere—G. W. felt the upward motion. And now they were walking on even ground. Presently the shouting he had noticed before began again. It came nearer and words became distinct. Comrade was greeting comrade. There were welcomes for his Colonel, a welcome to Corporal Jack—his mother was there, some one said; she was up in the general's tent.