for bed. In the inner company tent I am left alone, the
other letter-writers and diarists having drifted away. In the outer, open
tent, where the conferences are held, three men are sitting at a corner
of the big table, still discussing their scores, their rifles, the
squeeze, the kick, the serious mistake it is to cant the gun. And here is
a fact for you. Captain Kirby declares that the rifles do not kick, and
in his own case he is probably right. But I got today a very sharp recoil
each time I fired, so that by noon my arm was lame to the elbow, and my
shoulder sore. I expected much difficulty in the afternoon, and the first
shot hurt consumedly; but whether or not I learned to hold the rifle
better, or whether the gradual toning up of my muscles is accustoming me
to what comes, the rest of the kicks seemed to act as a sort of massage,
so that I forgot about them, and tonight I am entirely free of lameness.

Outside, at the head of the company street, the fire is gradually dying
down. Wood is always provided for it, a hole is dug, the men feed it as
long as they please, and in the morning the police squad, I suppose,
smooth the ground. On benches or on the ground the men sit about the
fire, sing, discuss, or chat in groups. There is in the store tent an
easy chair made of rough lumber and sacking; when the captain can be
induced to stay after conference the men bring it out, seat him in it,
and make him talk. On his own doings he is silent, but on the work of the
camp, the formations, drill, skirmish work, patrolling, outpost duty, and
especially just now the ways of his beloved tool, the rifle, he has much
to say. Around him are men often much older than he, others who in civil
life command several times his pay, fellows who have every luxury at
command, as well as chaps bred and indeed wedded to the most peaceable
pursuits. But they all are here for a purpose; they never talk patriotism
but they all act it; and everything he can tell them that bears on their
efficiency as soldiers they will pump from him if they possibly can. It
is fine to see how they recognize in him complete mastery of the subject
that occupies us all, and how they sit at his feet for instruction.

But he has left us nearly half an hour ago, and the groups that remain
are slowly separating, as one by one the men go to their tents. I can
tell you just what is happening in ours. The lantern is lighted and
hanging on the pole. Clay is probably finis