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Chapter 18

           OnceScarlettsawhimandcriedsharply:"Goplayinthebackyard,WadeHampton!"buthewastooterrified,toofascinatedbythemadscenebeforehimtoobey.

           Thelawnwascoveredwithprostratemen,tootiredtowalkfarther,tooweakfromwoundstomove.TheseUnclePeterloadedintothecarriageanddrovetothehospital,makingtripaftertripuntiltheoldhorsewaslathered.Mrs.MeadeandMrs.Merriwethersenttheircarriagesandthey,too,droveoff,springssaggingbeneaththeweightofthewounded.

           Later,inthelong,hotsummertwilight,theambulancescamerumblingdowntheroadfromthebattlefieldandcommissarywagons,coveredwithmuddycanvas.Thenfarmwagons,oxcartsandevenprivatecarriagescommandeeredbythemedicalcorps.TheypassedAuntPitty’shouse,joltingoverthebumpyroad,packedwithwoundedanddyingmen,drippingbloodintothereddust.Atthesightofthewomenwithbucketsanddippers,theconveyanceshaltedandthechoruswentupincries,inwhispers:

           "Water!"

           Scarlettheldwobblingheadsthatparchedlipsmightdrink,pouredbucketsofwateroverdusty,feverishbodiesandintoopenwoundsthatthemenmightenjoyabriefmoment’srelief.Shetiptoedtohanddipperstoambulancedriversandofeachshequestioned,herheartinherthroat:"Whatnews?Whatnews?"

           Fromallcamebacktheanswer:"Don’tknowfersartin,lady.It’stoosoontotell."

           Nightcameanditwassultry.Noairmovedandtheflaringpineknotsthenegroesheldmadetheairhotter.

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