It was a fine, clear morning, promising a hot day. Looking across the earthwork, Dick could see people on the housetops and hills of Boston and the near-by country, attracted by the sound of the _Lively's_ firing and by the news that the Yankees had fortified the hill. Dick and MacAlister were presently relieved, whereupon they rested at their rifles, while others went on working at the platforms. The firing from the river ceased, but the calm which followed was so like that which precedes a storm, that Dick was not even startled at the louder booming that soon arose, from a hill-battery in Boston as well as from the war-vessels in the river. The men around Dick made jokes about the enemy's fire, and about what fate might befall one another within a few hours. The prevalent spirit accorded with the half tragic, half comical feeling that thrilled Dick's breast and showed in his face. There came a slight shock and a general sensation when the word went around that one of the British cannon balls had struck and killed Asa Pollard, of Stickney's company in Bridge's regiment; and there followed some ado over the matter of his burial, Colonel Prescott commanding that he be buried immediately, a chaplain insisting on performing a service over the body, and Prescott thereupon ordering dispersed the crowd of men that gathered to hear the service. At this a number of men rebelliously left the hill. To shame the timid and encourage the brave, Prescott stepped to the top of the parapet and walked calmly around thereupon, coolly giving orders, in perfect heedlessness of the balls that plowed the hillside near at hand. A captain did likewise, and thereupon the men took to cheering defiantly at each notable specimen of British marksmanship. Keyed up to the pitch of recklessness, the men could laugh at the British fire, but the intense heat of the sun, the fatigue of their labors, and the hunger and thirst due to the neglect of many to bring provisions, were foes not as easily disdained. Thanks to Dick's respect for orders, and to Tom's wisdom of experience, these two had enough to eat and drink; but many, as they perspired or lay exhausted, growled or cursed, and thought war a useless, uncomfortable business. During the morning, while the men worked with the spades, or waited idly and wondered when, if ever, their first shot would be fired, there were frequent consultations of the officers, frequent despatchings of messengers from the hill, or from one part of the hill to another, frequent signs that seemed to promise action but brought none. There was a moment of interest for Dick when he became aware, first by sound, and then by sight, that the cannon in a corner of the redoubt had begun to reply to the British fire, which had gained in severity and in the number of its sources.