"Sorry we can't git ye back to camp, sergeant," said Sorrel, as he did what he could to ease the wounded one's pain. "The house is surrounded by the enemy. I reckon we kin keep 'em out, but I reckon likewise thet they kin keep us in—at least fer a while."
"It—don't—matter," gasped Sergeant Kaser. "I am not—not—long for this world. What a terrible thing war is! I never thought I was going to be shot down like this!" And he gave another gasp. His eyes were staring from his head, for he was suffering severe pain.
Ben looked around the cottage for something which might be given to the sufferer to ease him. But the dwelling had been stripped of all small things, and nothing in the way of food, drink, or medicine remained. Sorrel had already bound a handkerchief soaked in cold water around the wounded neck, so nothing more could be done, excepting to raise the sufferer up to a sitting position, at his request. "I don't know as thet is best fer him," whispered the tall Tennesseean to Ben. "But he ain't long fer this world, as he says, an' he might as well hev his wish as not."
In the meantime Casey and Jeming were on
