It was on the Monday of the third week after leaving the garrison that the two divisions of the army-corps began man[oe]uvring against each other. The troops, now doubled in number, presented a gay and lively picture as they assembled at the meeting-place in the brilliant sunshine. Summer seemed to have returned that day for a short while, so hot were the rays that poured down upon the earth from the deep-blue vault of heaven. The heat, however, was not oppressive, modified as it was by the cool mountain breezes.
The sixth battery of the 80th Regiment, Eastern Division Field Artillery, had been told off to join the advance-guard, and was awaiting the signal to start. Gunners and drivers stood behind the guns, or close to the horses, all ready to mount at the word of command. Vogt was lost in amazement at Klitzing's demeanour, for he had never seen his friend in such high spirits. His eyes shone and his cheeks were slightly flushed. Vogt thought to himself what a good-looking fellow the clerk was with this touch of animation. His appearance had certainly been much improved by soldiering. Vogt was quite pleased; shaking his finger good-naturedly at him, "Hullo, Heinrich!" he asked, "haven't you been liquoring up a bit on the sly? or is this one of your lucky days?"
And Klitzing answered, "Ah! I feel to-day--I don't know myself how I feel. I feel so strong, so well--I that am usually so shaky, I feel as if some great piece of luck were going to happen to me to-day. Do you know, if I had ever felt like this at home I should have bought a lottery ticket and should certainly have won the biggest prize!"
"Well," rejoined Vogt, "mind you don't miss the opportunity the next time such a day comes!"
The clerk shook his head. "Ah, no!" he returned; "such days only come once, and then never again. I shall just have to give up the Great Prize and die a poor devil. But it's good to feel so jolly for once!"
He took Vogt by the shoulders and looked into his face with happy eyes.
Suddenly, a gruff voice called out from beyond the horses: "You fellows have far too good a time of it! I don't know what you're always grinning about!"
Bombardier Sickel was looking round at them with a surly expression, and he shook his head contemptuously. He, being a driver, did not think much of the gunners. What an easy life fellows like them had! While he--what had he not got to see to? He went up to his team and looked anxiously at Turk, the horse he was to ride. With drooping head the gelding stood there limp and spiritless. He had refused his food that morning. What could one do mounted on a sick wheeler? Sickel had told the gun-leader about this; but it was too late to replace the horse, as the baggage-waggon was already under weigh. Poor Turk must do for to-day somehow.