Uncle Sam's Boys as Sergeants Part 32

And that motion was carried unanimously. Sergeant Hal was forced to go ahead as guide, while the others, the lieutenant included, buckled manfully to their burdens.

Not infrequently they had to halt and rest, for the carca.s.ses were fearfully heavy, even for men as toughened as regulars.

Yet, finally, they did manage to get Hal's prizes back to camp.

"Another day or two like this, and we needn't be ashamed to face the men back at Clowdry," observed Lieutenant Prescott complacently. "Six bears and a buck antelope in one day is no fool work, even if one man did do it all."

"But you killed the bear this morning, sir," urged Sergeant Hal.

"Yes, Sergeant; after you had fired the first shot and had crippled the beast so that it couldn't get away from me."

Not even to gloat over the big haul of game, however, could the men wait any longer for their long-deferred evening meal.

There was a general washup, after which the entire party went to table.

Lieutenant Prescott permitted one concession to his rank. He sat at table with the enlisted men, but he had one end of the board all to himself.

Two ruddy campfires now shed their glow over the table. It was a rough scene, but one full of the sheer joy of outdoor, manly life.

"I hope, Kelly, that the long wait hasn't encouraged to-night's bear meat to dry up in the pans," remarked the lieutenant pleasantly.

"No fear o' that, sir," replied the soldier cook. "Instead, the meat had simmered so long in its own juices that a thin pewter fork would pick it to pieces."

"How much meat is there?" asked Private Johnson, whereat all the men laughed as happily as schoolboys on a picnic.

"Never ye fear, glutton," retorted Kelly. "There's more meat than any seventeen giants in the fairy tales could ever eat at one sitting."

And then on it came--great hunks of roast bear meat, flanked with browned potatoes and gravy; flaky biscuits, huge pats of b.u.t.ter, bowls heaped with canned vegetables. Pots of steaming coffee pa.s.sed up and down the table.

Hunters in the wilds get back close to nature, and have the appet.i.tes of savages. These men around the camp table ate, every man of them, twice as much as he could have eaten back at company mess at Fort Clowdry.

Then, to top it all, came more coffee and mince pie in abundance. Nor did these hardy hunters, after climbing the mountain trails all day, fear the nightmare. Their stomachs were fitted to digest anything edible!

It was over at last, and pipes came out here and there, though not all of the soldiers smoked.

Hal Overton was one of those who did not smoke. He had brought out his rubber poncho and a blanket, and had placed these on the frosty ground at some distance from one of the campfires.

"You are looking rather thoughtful, Sergeant," observed Lieutenant Prescott, strolling over to Overton. "I hope I am not interrupting any train of thought."

"No, sir."

"May I sit down beside you?"

"Certainly, sir."

Sergeant Hal moved over, making plenty of room on his blanket. Officer and non-com. stretched themselves out comfortably, each resting on one elbow.

"Nevertheless, Sergeant," continued Mr. Prescott, "you were thinking of something very particular when I came along."

"I was just thinking, sir, how jolly this life is, and for that matter, how jolly everything connected with the Army is. I was wondering why so many young fellows let their earlier manhood slip by without finding out what an ideal place the Army is."

"But what is especially jolly just now, Sergeant," replied the lieutenant, "is the hunting. Now, men don't have to enter the Army in order to have all the hunting they want."

"But we're drawing our pay while here," returned Overton. "And we are having our expenses paid, too. The man in civil life doesn't get that.

If he hunts, he must do it at his own expense. Then there's another point, sir. In the case of the average hunting party of men from civil life it must be hard to find a lot of really good fellows, who'll keep their good nature all through the hardships of camping. For instance, where, in civil life, could you get together seventeen fellows, all of them as fine fellows and as agreeable as we have here? But I beg the lieutenant's pardon. I didn't intend to include him as one of the crowd, for the rest are all enlisted men."

"I want to be considered one of the crowd," replied the young officer simply.

"But you're not an enlisted man, sir."

"No; but I've cast my lot with the Army for life, and so, I trust, have most of you enlisted men. Therefore we all belong together, though not all can be officers. For that matter, I imagine there are a good many men in the ranks of our battalion who wouldn't care to be officers.

Many soldiers are of a happy-go-lucky type, and wouldn't care to burden themselves with an officer's responsibilities. Yet I certainly want to be, as far as good discipline will permit, one of the crowd along with all good, staunch and loyal soldiers, whatever their grades of rank may be."

This was seeing the commissioned officer of Uncle Sam's Army in a somewhat different light, even to one as keen and observing as Hal Overton.

In garrison life it is very seldom that the enlisted man gets a real glimpse of the "man side" of the officer. The requirements of military discipline are such that officers and enlisted men do not often mingle on any terms of equality. This fact, as far as the American Army goes, is based on the military experience of ages that, when officers and men mingle on terms of too much equality, discipline suffers sadly. It is this intimacy of officers and men that keeps many National Guard organizations from reaching greater efficiency.

Men have served through a whole term of enlistment in the regular Army without realizing how friendly a really good and capable officer always feels toward the really good enlisted men under his command. The captain of a company, is, in effect, the father of his company, and his time must be spent largely in looking after the actual welfare and happiness of his men. In this work the captain's lieutenants are his a.s.sistants.

Soon the night grew much colder in this high alt.i.tude. Now the wood was heaped on one fire, and around this blazing pile soldiers sat or stretched themselves on blankets and ponchos. It is at such a time that the soldier's yarns crop up. Story after story of the military life was told. All in good time Lieutenant Prescott contributed his share, from anecdotes of the old days at West Point.

Then it became so late that Sergeant Hal announced that Johnson and Dietz would have the camp detail for the day following. This meant, also, that Johnson and Dietz would therefore divide between them the duty of watching over the camp through the night.

It was Johnson who took the first trick of the watch, while the others turned in in their tents.

Holding his rifle across his knees, mainly as a matter of form, Johnson sat down by the campfire, while his drowsy comrades turned in in their tents and slept the sleep of the strong in that clear, crisp Colorado air.

CHAPTER XVIII

HOLDING UP A CAMP GUARD

HALF an hour before daylight was due everyone in the camp was stirring.

The two new cooks for the day had their work cut out for them. Other soldiers busied themselves with hauling wood and water.

Then, too, the four horses belonging to the transport wagons had to be curried, watered and fed.

By the time these first duties were out of the way broad daylight had come and breakfast was ready.

The meal over "police," or cleaning up, was performed as carefully as in barracks.

The hunters were now ready to set out, for, in the meantime, the antelope and bears killed the afternoon before had been skinned and the meat hung up in the dry, cool air.

"Anybody in this outfit been wearing moccasins?" queried Corporal Hyman, strolling back into camp.