the midday sun
I went into the gully . I must get to that spring or pool , or whatever it was , before another man should come . Before the man had reached the picket-line , I was at the spring -- and it was a good one , at least for that swamp . A little hollow had been made by digging with bayonets , perhaps , or with the hands , on one side of the gully , just where a huge bulk of unfallen earth would protect the hole from the midday sun , the only sun which could reach the bottom of this ravine , defended by its wall on either hand . The hole was so small that only one canteen could be filled at a time ; but the water was good compared with that of the Chickahominy . Doubtless it was the difficulty of getting pure water that justified the relaxation of discipline which permitted the men to have recourse to this spring in rear of their vedette lines . Canteen in hand , I sat down by the spring .