‘Hold on, sonny,’ returned Ephraim cheerfully. ‘It ain’t so bad ez thet yit. It’s pretty tough, this situation is, I’ll allow; but we ain’t goin’ ter Fortress Monroe ’thout a worry ter git back ter Staunton. Ye see,’ he went on, ‘they’re bound to be pretty thick in the wood; but et the same time they can’t be everywhar. We’ll keep on going cautious, and maybe we’ll out-flank ’em yit. Come on!’ ‘I wish we had a couple of pots of their coffee,’ sighed Lucius. ‘My! didn’t it smell good?’ ‘We’ll forage ez we go along,’ said Ephraim. ‘Ye never know what ye’ll find ef ye keep on looking.’ The truth of this bit of philosophy presently became unpleasantly manifest, for after they had wandered on for a quarter of an hour, Lucius suddenly pulled up short with a smothered exclamation of disgust. ‘What is it?’ muttered Ephraim. ‘D’ye see any one?’ For answer Lucius pointed with his right hand, averting his face, which was very pale. Ephraim followed the guiding finger. ‘By time!’ he exclaimed, ‘they’ve got it shore enuff.’ A few paces away and close together were the dead bodies of two Federal soldiers, lying on their backs with white, upturned faces, and sightless eyes that stared fixed up into the dense foliage that swept above them. ‘Pore critters!’ said Ephraim sympathetically, all feeling but that of humanity banished for the moment from his breast. ‘Thar’s somebody lookin’ for them ez will be sorry they don’t come home. Thar must hev been a rumpus round hyar lately, Luce.’ ‘I don’t see any more,’ answered Lucius, looking round; ‘and there are no signs of a struggle anywhere about.’ ‘Why, thet’s so,’ admitted Ephraim, also surveying the ground. ‘Waal then, how do they come ter be lyin’ thar?—I’ll tell ye, Luce, most likely thar war a fight yesterday, and they got wounded. Then they sot out ter fetch up ter their own lines agen, and death follered ’em up and overtook ’em before they could git thar. See hyar,’ he continued, kneeling down by the fallen men, ‘this one has a hole in the right side er his coat. He must hev bled ter death inside. And the other one hez got it in the leg. See, his trousers is all over blood, and he’s tied his handkerchief round the place ter try and stop the bleedin’. The wonder is thet he war able to walk at all. Maybe he crawled. Pore critters! pore critters!’ ‘How can you bear to touch them?’ said Lucius faintly. ‘They look dreadful.’ ‘Ah!’ returned Ephraim sententiously, ‘it’s a pictur er the war thet didn’t strike us afore we set out, or maybe we wouldn’t hev been in such a hurry to come. Ye kin see now, Luce,’ he finished grimly, ‘what we’d hev looked like ef the cunnel bed got his way.’ ‘Don’t!’ exclaimed Lucius. ‘Come on. Let us get out of this. We can’t do them any good by staring at them.’