Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/366

 XXXVI

AS GRASS OF THE FIELD

OW hard it is to stop a fight—till all are put out in some way! This one went on without leaders, just for spite. Only a few of Jon's and Dave's men, mostly wounded or prisoners of each other, stood around us. We were almost alone. Both Union and rebels took their hats off when Jon drooped on Dave's breast. They seemed to understand.

For a minute Dave was stunned. He saw nothing but Jon's smiling face, the eyes open, looking straight at him, when he turned it up. Even I could hardly believe, from the looks, that my boy was dead. Dave kept stroking Jon's long light hair and saying crazy baby things. But after a while he spoke so's I could hear:

"You're not hurt badly, are you, Jonthy? 350