go 'overland' to the cemetery, them flares
started up something awful. I don't know what they was lookin' for, but
when they went up, I want to tell you, I felt about the size of a tree,
and I wisht I was one. Well, Jim, you know, was pretty heavy, an awful
heavy carry he was for the boys. I was tryin' to hurry 'em along, but
that Pilot, he heads the procession, and on he goes at a funeral march
pace. Now I believe in doin' things right. I've heard of some pioneers
that hurries their job. I don't believe in that, but when you are
going across the open on a dark night, with them flares going up, I
say between flares is a good time to get a move on, but, no, that there
Pilot, he just goes that pace and no more. I want to tell you the boys
was nervous and the officers too. The O. C. and Major Bustead was there.
I could see the major fussin' to get on. Well, we got Jim down all
right, and just as the Pilot got started, darned if they didn't open up
the biggest kind of a machine gun chorus you ever heard."

"What did you do, sergeant?"

"Me? Well, I started huggin' mud and saying all the good words I could
think of. Even the O. C. got down on his knees, and the major, he near
got into the grave, but that darned Pilot stood up there getting taller
every minute, and goin' on with his prayer, and the boys sayin' 'Amen!'
that loud and emphatic that I thought he'd take the hint and cut out
somethin', but cut out nothin'! Seemed as if his memory was workin'
over time, the way he kept a fetchin' up things that he could a easily
forgot, and when he comes to the benediction, the whizbangs begin to
come. Up goes his hand, the way they do. I thought to myself that that
was a kind of unnecessary display. I looks up and there he was, more
like a tree than ever. In fact, I says to myself--it's queer how you
think things at times like that--darned if they won't think the darned
fool is a tree, for nothin' but a darned tree would stand up in the
flare light and look so much like a tree anyhow. I guess that's what
saved him. He never moved until he was done, and then didn't he stay
with us pioneers after the rest had gone until we filled up. Say, he's
all right."

"You bet he's all right," said Sergeant Mackay, "and he's gettin' in his
work with the boys."

"What do you mean, 'gettin' in his work'?" enquired the pioneer
sergeant.

"Oh, well, you know," said Sergeant Mackay awkwardly, "he's makin' 'em
think a lot different about things.