A wagon bearing another pitiful load came by.

"Is Colonel Austin in dar?" he cried.

Some one knew him and called an answer: "No, G. W., your Colonel isn't here!"

On, on, again.

What was that? A roar of cannon! G. W. shuddered, but gripped his gun and kept on, making forward.

Presently he began to meet more wounded men, singly, or in groups of two or three, trying with what strength remained in them to reach the rear.

Occasionally a man knew the boy, and gave him a friendly smile; once one asked him for a drink.

"Don't youse take much of it, Captain," G. W. pleaded, holding the canteen to the parched lips, "cose dis is fur my Colonel Austin."

Be it to the man's eternal credit that, almost dying of thirst as he was, he handed back all but a mouthful of the blessed water. "Thank you; that will help me to the camp. Colonel Austin is to the right of the road, a little further back, behind some bushes; he tried to come on with me, but fell. I'll send you help, for he cannot walk. G.o.d bless you, G. W."

On through awful scenes the little black boy went. No one looked upon him with surprise. The small, familiar figure was part of the camp-life and war.

Again the little rescuer dashed on. And oh, go quickly now, G. W.! Among the tangled bushes is a slinking, leaf-covered figure running as rapidly as you!

Hurry, tired feet! Steady, little dusky hand! there is a deed for you to do which will make your name blessed up North, if only you are in time!

Ah, hist! A crackling among the bushes made G. W. pause.

What was it? With a sudden impulse the boy crouched in the jungle and listened. After a moment a form, covered with leaves, half crawled, half ran, near where he was hidden.

G. W. held his breath, and got his gun in position. He understood. He had heard of the foes' trick of covering themselves with leaves to escape attention, and he knew at once what he had to deal with. Never was he calmer than he grew at that moment.

But oh, look! the crawling form, in the open now, stopped, raised his gun, and took deliberate aim at something beyond. G. W. was as quick; and before there was time for the leafy form to draw the trigger, his own small sure hand had flashed forth a bullet! With a cry the wretched creature flung up his arms and fell back.

G. W. stood up and wiped the perspiration from his cold, drawn face. His eyes were blazing, but the strange new calmness still possessed him. He pushed forward to find the object at which the Spaniard's gun had been aimed.

That it was "one of our boys" little G. W. of course knew; but he was _not_ prepared for the sight that presently rose before him.

A bit beyond, leaning against a tree, bloodstained, dirt-begrimed, and faint, sat his Colonel.

At the first glimpse of him something like the ice of winter gave way in G. W.'s breast. The blood began to flow through his veins; the past was but a bad dream--he was once more a glad and loving little fellow.

"Colonel!" he whispered, like one coming out of sleep. "Colonel, I'se here!"

But Colonel Austin took no heed of the tender voice.

IX.

"I'SE GOT DE COLONEL!"

G. W. stumbled onward and reached the tree, put his arm about the officer, and carefully held the canteen to his lips. A gurgle, the water was drained to the last drop; and then, oh, joy! the heavy eyes opened.

It did not seem strange to Colonel Austin to see G. W.'s dusky face. It was but part of the troubled dream that held his heated brain.

"h.e.l.lo, comrade!" he said. "Just tell them I couldn't see the little Corporal die. There was only room for one. He was crying for his mother, and he had been brave all day. The Boy and his Mother will--understand--by and by."

"Now you see heah, Colonel," said poor little G. W. "You jes' stop dat kind ob talk. Your laigs ain't hurt--it's your chist, an' you'se got ter git up an' come along!"

G. W.'s voice was full of fright and determination combined.

"No use, G. W.," groaned the Colonel. "I tried it, and fell. Help will be sent back, but it will be too late, my boy."

"You get up, sah!" persisted G. W. "You'se got ter make a move fur de Boy an' his Mother! I'se goin' ter sabe yo' fur dem, sah, like I swar to. Now stan' up, sah!"

Colonel Austin staggered to his feet, leaning upon the little shoulder.

The water had revived him, and G. W.'s words had recalled him to a sacred duty.

The wound in his breast began to bleed again, and the crimson drops fell upon G. W. The man's weight, too, almost bowed the little boy down. But he set his teeth and smiled grimly. The undertaking seemed nearly big enough for a hero to tackle--and here he was just a disobedient, dishonored little black boy!

"You'se doin' fine!" G. W. said, whenever Colonel Austin's steps flagged; "you'se done a mile _mos'_, Colonel; dere ain't but a step or two furder. Lean heavy, Colonel,--yo' jes' ain't no heft at all!" And all the while the keen eyes were searching the underbrush for another leaf-clothed foe.

Once they stopped so that G. W. might tear his shirt in strips and bind it roughly over the bleeding wound. The blessed letter from up North fell out upon the ground. G. W. clutched it and put it in his trousers pocket; the sight of it gave him fresh strength.

Stumbling and swaying, the two went on again. No help came along the road. But dust-covered and near to death, the comrades at length reached the field hospital.

It was growing dark when they came into the open s.p.a.ce. Lanterns were hanging around the great rough table, and the restless figures were still moving about. With rising hope little G. W. made a last rally.

"Come on, Colonel," he panted; "you jes' hang on to me. We'se all right now. Only you jes' come faster, Colonel! You jes' _run_ now, Colonel,--dere ain't no call ter act so back'ard here,--you'se on de road home!"

The fainting man heard the brave soft voice, and he braced up and struggled yet again.

They were nearing the tent opening, the lanterns flashed, and the moonlight fell full upon their faces. A soldier among the many who were lying out under the stars saw them and cried out:

"Look, boys! It's Colonel Austin and G. W."

"Yes, sah!" the boy said simply. "I'se got de Colonel! here's de Colonel!"

"Three cheers for G. W!" cried a weak voice. "G. W.'s saved the Colonel!"

The crowd of sufferers took up the quivering cry, and all around the tent spread the story of G. W.'s bravery.

A surgeon glanced up--then with an exclamation rushed forward.

"Austin!" he shouted. "Austin, let go of him, the boy is fainting! Here, some one, lift G. W.! I've got the Colonel!"

That was all. For little G. W. the lights went out. The voices melted into silence. The Colonel was safe! All was right.