The lads, using their bayonets as spades, and scooping the dirt up with their hands, soon formed shallow ditches, with an embankment of earth in front, and, lying prone behind this, ruthlessly mowed down the ranks of the enemy who still refused to show himself.
The rattle and bang of the rifles, the clouds of smoke, the flashes of fire, mingled with the hoarse commands of the major who was a war veteran; the rushing forward of the cadets, and their activity in digging trenches, made the scene one of excitement. It was glorious sport, Dick thought.
Tired, dusty and warm, though willing to keep at this war game indefinitely, the young soldiers finally reached the edge of the woods, where, having dislodged the enemy, they were conceded to have won a victory, and the march was again taken up.
A halt for dinner was made beside a little brook. Toots, who had charge of the provision wagon brought it up, and proceeded to build fires to make coffee.
"Toots, you old scoundrel," affectionately exclaimed a senior cadet, "did you bring the cream for my coffee?"
"Yes, Mr. Morton. I brought a jug full," replied Toots, who entered into the spirit of the fun.
"And I want a white table cloth," stipulated another.
"I've got one up my sleeve," answered Toots, busying himself about the wagon.
Campfires were soon ablaze, and the appetizing smell of coffee and steaks filled the air. The cadets opened their haversacks, and were preparing to eat, having formed into little informal groups, each company by itself.
"Say, Stiver," remarked Dutton, to his lieutenant, looking at a field of late sweet corn, which was near where they were camped, "I'd like a few of those ears to roast. How about you?"