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Updated: June 12, 2025
"I reckon hit's all de same," he remarked cheerfully, "en I reckon we'd es well be gwine on home, Marse Dan." "I reckon we would," said Dan, and they pushed on in silence. That night they slept on the blood-stained floor of an old field hospital, and the next morning Pinetop parted from them and joined an engineer who had promised him a "lift" toward his mountains.
There are several small settlements of farmers, sheep and cattle growers within the limits of the narrow strip connecting the larger parts of the reserve, notably Show Low, Pinetop and Linden. The wagon road from Holbrook, on the Santa Fe Pacific Railroad, to the military post at Camp Apache, on the White Mountain Indian Reservation, passes through this strip by way of Show Low.
Dan looked round with sympathy. "That's true; it's a shame," he admitted smiling. "Look here, boys, has anybody got an extra pair of breeches?" A howl of derision went up from the regiment as it fell into ranks. "Has anybody got a few grape-leaves to spare?" it demanded in a high chorus. "Oh, shut up," responded Dan promptly. "Come on, Pinetop, we'll clothe ourselves to-morrow."
"He was scolding at us yesterday because when we were detailed to clean out the camp, we gave the order to the servants," put in Baker. "Clean out the camp! Does he think my grandmother was a chambermaid?" He suddenly broke off and helped himself to a drink of water from a dripping bucket that a tall mountaineer was passing round the group. "Been to the creek, Pinetop?" he asked good-humouredly.
"Wall, it's a better way than most," Pinetop replied, "an' when the angel begins to foot up my account on Jedgment Day, I shouldn't mind his cappin' the whole list with 'he lost his life, but he didn't lose his flag. To make a blamed good fight is what the Lord wants of us, I reckon, or he wouldn't have made our hands itch so when they touch a musket."
Last Sunday he gave us a prayer in which he said: 'O Lord, thou knowest that we are the greatest army thou hast ever seen; put forth thy hand then but a very little and we will whip the earth. By Jove, you look cosey here," he added, glancing into the hut where Dan and Pinetop slept in bunks of straw. "I hope the roads won't dry before you've warmed your house."
In the early morning the shots grew faster, and as the column stopped in the cover of a wood, the bullets came singing among the tree-tops, from the left flank where the skirmishers had struck the enemy. During the short rest Dan slept leaning against a twisted aspen, and when Pinetop shook him, he awoke with a dizziness in his head that sent the flat earth slamming against the sky.
"You've had your share," repeated Dan, greedily, his eyes on the meat, though he knew that Pinetop was lying. The mountaineer struck a match and lighted a bit of pine, holding the bacon to the flame until it scorched. "You'd better git it all in yo' mouth quick," he advised, "for if the smell once starts on the breeze the whole brigade will be on the scent in a minute."
The rails went readily to fires, and Pinetop fried strips of fat bacon in the skillet he had brought upon his musket. Somebody produced a handful of coffee from his pocket, and a little later Dan, dozing beside the flames, was awakened by the aroma. "By George!" he burst out, and sat up speechless.
He shook hands again, and swung off amid the renewed jeers that issued from the open doorways. Dan watched him until he vanished among the distant pines, and then, turning, went into the little hut where he found Pinetop sitting before a rude chimney, which he had constructed with much labour.
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