Lying on the sod with the Yankee flag clutched in his hand, its silk was fresh-striped with his own heart's blood. The last sound he heard was the roar of those guns, as we turned them on the enemy." "God! What a fight for that battery!" The Californian listens, with bated breath, to the Virginian. He tells him of the youthful quest for gold. The war brotherhood of the two passes in sad review.