Hicks shuffled his feet restlessly. “Guess we’d better be gettin’ back, King.”
It had grown quite dark and along the lines of restless men white rockets were fired, to flare for a moment, covering a part of the ground with an intense brightness and then expiring on the ground with a short hiss.
The platoon was not in sight when they returned to the mouth of the ravine. But as the clanking of their canteens was heard, men hurried from their burrows and surrounded Hicks and Cole.
“Here, give me mine.”
“Mine’s the one with the dent in the side, Cole.”
“That’s not my canteen. Here, let me find it.”
“Git the hell away from here or you’ll never git anything to drink. Who the devil went after this water, anyway?”
Sergeant Harriman stood in the background, much to the surprise of Hicks, who had expected him to rush forward demanding that he be given his canteen first of all. The canteens were passed out and Harriman’s was the next to the last one.
“Thank you, Hicks,” said Harriman warmly.