ON FURLOUGH A number of soldiers off duty were loitering in front of the barracks, while a small group of officers occupied chairs on the log porch of their quarters, enjoying the warmth of the sun.

I greeted these as I passed, conscious that their eyes followed me curiously as I approached the closed door of the commandant's office.

The sentry without brought his rifle to a salute, but permitted my passage without challenge.

A voice within answered my knock, and I entered, closing the door behind me.

The room was familiar--plain, almost shabbily furnished, the walls decorated only by the skins of wild beasts, and holding merely a few rudely constructed chairs and a long pine table.