"I reckon it's all right," said Buck. "But, July, you stay here and keep them boys till we make sure."
Then the three white men, holding their guns in readiness, walked across the open to investigate. Left alone with the boys, July suddenly began to laugh with all the abandon of the happiest of darkies.
"Dat sho was a grand fight," he assured the boys. "An' what you reckon, Cap'n Ted? Atter I shot once I wasn't scared. I des 'joyed myself shootin' at dem slackers an' list'nin' to de bullets rattlin' round us in dese permeters. I wouldn't 'a' believed it. I sho is a 'stonished nigger dis mawnin'."
July laughed ecstatically, and before the amused and pleased boys had spoken he continued:
"Look yuh, Cap'n Ted, maybe I won't haf to have des a cook's job in de army. Maybe I'd 'joy myself mo' still shootin' at dem Germans out o' one o' dem holes in de ground. If dey want to try me, I's willin'—I don' care how soon de Gov'ment put a rifle in my hands an' sick me on dem Germans!"
Then the grinning negro gave vent to his feelings in a prodigious and joyful yell—a sort of war whoop in advance.
"July, this is simply great!" cried Ted, full of enthusiasm as he beheld a soldier born for Uncle Sam in the most unexpected quarter. "And I'm not so very much surprised either; for I have heard old army men say that a great many good soldiers are afraid at first."
Then they heard Buck's shout that everything was "all right," and the two boys and the negro raced eagerly across the intervening space.
"July," ordered Buck, "bring a bucket of water and any old cloth you can find. And be quick."
Carter was seated with his back against a tree, his face very pale and his bared arm showing a deep flesh wound out of which came an alarming flow of blood. Jenkins, seated near, had uncovered a bleeding but much less serious flesh wound in the calf of his left leg.