“Let us suppose,” he said, importantly, “that you are an inspector-general come to inspect this camp. It is one that I myself selected; as adjutant it is under my direction. What would you report as to its position, its advantages and disadvantages?”
I did not have to look about me. Without moving from where I stood, I could see all that was necessary of that camp. But I first asked, timidly: “Is this camp a temporary one, made during a halt on the march, or has it been occupied for some days?”
“We have been here for two weeks,” said Heinze.
“Is it supposed that a war is going on?” I asked, politely; “I mean, are we in the presence of an enemy?”
“Of course,” answered Heinze. “Certainly we are at war.”
“Then,” I said, triumphantly, “in my report I should recommend that the officer who selected this camp should be court-martialled.”
Heinze gave a shout of indignant laughter, and Aiken glared at me as though he thought I had flown suddenly mad, but Laguerre only frowned and waved his hand impatiently.
“You are bold, sir,” he said, grimly; “I trust you can explain yourself.”
I pointed from the basin in which we stood, to the thickly wooded hills around us.
“This camp has the advantage of water and grass,” I said. I spoke formally, as though I were really making a report. “Those are its only advantages. Captain Heinze has pitched it in a hollow. In case of an attack, he has given the advantage of position to the enemy. Fifty men could conceal themselves on those ridges and fire upon you as effectively as though they had you at the bottom of a well. There are no pickets out, except along the trail, which is the one approach the enemy would not take. So far as this position counts, then,” I summed up, “the camp is an invitation to a massacre.”