"There was some lively skirmishing on the morning of September
twentieth, sixty-three, before the armies got together in earnest. It
was real comical to see the boys tearing up their love-letters and
playing-cards just before going into battle. The roads and fields were
speckled with the scraps just like a snowfall on the stage, as I reckon
all of you have seen in plays like 'Alone in London,' and the 'Banker's
Daughter.' It was in one of those preliminary set-tos that somehow my
company strayed away, and left me up in the woods with a bullet in my
leg. I was looking around for some place where I could lie down and
nurse myself a bit, and at the same time keep clear of the shells and
other things flying around. The air was full of them--making a noise
like 'Whar-izz-yer?' 'Whar-izz-yer?' Haven't you often heard that sound,
Senator? Some poor devil hears it once _too_ often, every now and then,
doesn't he?
"It was very hot and dusty, and I was plumb crazy for water. Somehow I
managed to work my way out to a big clear space on the side of the hill.
The brush and weeds were up to your neck. At the foot of the hill was a
piece of marshy land where there had once been a spring. It had long
since dried up, but there were patches of greenish water here and there.
I threw myself on the ground, and my, how good that nasty-looking water
tasted! Then I bathed my face and hands in it.
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