The rout of wagons had gone by I could now hear the heavy tramp of thousands passing me, the shrill voices of terror. I worked to a sitting posture somehow--the effort nearly smothered me. A mass of cavalry was bearing down upon me. They were coming so thick I saw they would trample me into jelly. In a flash I thought of what Uncle Eb had told me once. I took my hat and covered my face quickly, and then uncovered it as they came near. They sheared away as I felt the foam of their nostrils. I had split them as a rock may split the torrent. The last of them went over me--their tails whipping my face. I shall not soon forget the look of their bellies or the smell of their wet flanks. They had no sooner passed than I fell back and rolled half over like a log. I could feel a warm flow of blood trickling down my left arm. A shell, shot at the retreating army, passed high above me, whining as it flew. Then my mind went free of its trouble. The rain brought me to as it came pelting down upon the side of my face. I wondered what it might be, for I knew not where I had come. I lifted my head and looked to see a new dawn--possibly the city of God itself. It was dark--so dark I felt as if I had no eyes. Away in the distance I could hear the beating of a drum. It rang in a great silence--I have never known the like of it. I could hear the fall and trickle of the rain, but it seemed only to deepen the silence. I felt the wet grass under my face and hands. Then I knew it was night and the battlefield where I had fallen. I was alive and might see another day--thank God! I felt something move under my feet I heard a whisper at my shoulder. 'Thought you were dead long ago,' it said. 'No, no,' I answered, 'I'm alive--I know I'm alive--this is the battlefield. ''Fraid I ain't goin' t' live,' he said. 'Got a terrible wound. Wish it was morning.' 'Dark long?' I asked. 'For hours,' he answered. 'Dunno how many.' He began to groan and utter short prayers. 'O, my soul waiteth for the Lord more than they that watch for the morning,' I heard him cry in a loud, despairing voice. Then there was a bit of silence, in which I could hear him whispering of his home and people. Presently he began to sing: 'Guide me, O thou great Jehovah! Pilgrim through this barren land I am weak but thou art mighty' His voice broke and trembled and sank into silence.