A bearded man in a slouch hat was trotting up the slope, threading his horse among the apple trees, bending low to avoid the gnarly boughs which reached down. “It’s Reynolds himself!” the major exclaimed. Bale had a clear view of the newcomer as he came past: his horse was soaped from neck to flanks, and little clots of sputum blew from its muzzle. Sad soldier … this man who hurried under the fruit trees was drawn taut by enormous unhappinesses, blistered by cruel loads. His scrawny beard was sugared with dust, and in spite of the temperature he had his blouse neatly buttoned, the tight seams overlapping; his shoulder-straps were crusty with stars.

He wheeled in front of the seminary, and waved his hand. “What’s the matter, John?” he demanded. The guns sounded in a crackling welcome.

Bulford ran down the steps, his spurs tinkling. “There’s hell to pay. They jumped me first thing this morning, General. Is that your folks down the road, coming from Emmetsburg?”

The general nodded. “The First Corps. They’re on the road.” He looked back across the valley behind him. “I can get Wadsworth up here in short order, behind this ridge we’re on. Do you think you can hold out until his infantry is in line?”

“Reckon I can,” the cavalryman said. Dan walked on toward the fence. General Reynolds rode toward the crest of the ridge, with Buford and an aid scrambling upon their horses and turning after him. The Confederate lines must be toiling closer; their endless soprano drone was more distinct—it seemed that the hills would never be free of its wailing.

Bale circled the wrecked wagon and the motionless horse which lay snared in clipped ends of harness; he stopped at the pasture fence. The dead soldier lay in the same place—the soldier named Ike. Noisy flies were gathering above his face, and his brother was nowhere to be seen.

“Gone to git him some rebels,” said a weak voice.

Dan turned. A soldier sat propped against the trunk of an apple tree, twenty feet away. He had torn his shirt off, and was stuffing the rags against his bloody side. He breathed rapidly, nodding at Dan. “Hain’t you the fellow who was here with water, spell ago? You might cover his face, fellow, so’s the flies won’t eat him all to once’t. Here, take this thing.”