"A bullet's just hit him in the head," said one of the men. "I'm glad
it wasn't me."
One of the doctors looked at the wounded man.
"He's dead," he said. "Damn you, what do you mean by bringing dead men
here?"
The two bearers took up their load again and dropped it out of sight in
the bushes. Sam did not like to interrupt the doctors, who were
overtasked, so he dismounted and tried to find a wounded man well
enough to answer his questions. One man at the end of the row looked
less pale than the rest, and he asked him where he could find the 43d.
"That's my regiment, sir," he replied, as a twig, cut off by a bullet,
fell on his face. "You'd better lie down here, sir; you'll be shot if
you don't. A lot of the wounded have been hit here again."
Sam sat down by his side.
"Our regiment is over that way," he said, pointing in the direction of
the firing. "I don't know where the colonel is. We haven't seen him for
hours. The lieutenant-colonel is down with fever. I think the major's
in command. You ought to find him at the front. We've been falling
back, and the firing sounds nearer than it did. I'm afraid the enemy
will catch us here."
Sam did not wait to hear anything further, but, leaving his horse tied
to a tree, he ran toward the front. He found many soldiers skulking
along the path, and they directed him to the major. He discovered him
sitting on the ground behind a stone wall.
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