A cannoneer said respectfully:
“Reckon the li’l gal’s jes’ natch’ally skeered o’ we-uns, Major, seein’ how the caval’y ketched her paw down thar in the crick.”
The Major said briefly:
“Your father is a Union man, but nobody is going to hurt him. I’d send you to the rear, too, but there’s no time now. Please go in and shut that door. I’ll see that nobody disturbs you.”
As she was closing the door the young Major called after her:
“Where’s the well?”
As she did not know she only stared at him as though terrified.
“All right,” he said, more gently. “Don’t be frightened. I’ll come back and talk to you in a little while.”
As she shut the door she saw the cannon at the pass limber up, wheel, and go bumping up the hill to rejoin its bespattered fellows on the knoll.
An artilleryman came along and dropped a bundle of picks and shovels which he was carrying to the gunners, who had begun the emplacements; the boyish Major dismounted, subduing his excitement with a dignified frown; and for a while he was very fussy and very busy, aiding the battery captain in placing the guns and verifying the depression.