 Each death weakened our forces. In my hundred, says this brother Willie, I could not raise enough men to pitch a tent when we camped. Now it was that I had to exert myself to the utmost. I wonder I did not die, as many did who were stronger than I was. When we pitched our camp in the evening of each day, I had to lift the sick in their wagon, carrying them to the fire, and in the morning carry them again on my back to the wagon. When any in my hundred died,