the
darkness.

As little Pete dropped to the ground, his nervous finger touched the
trigger and his gun went off up in the air. The others took this as a
cue, and banged away as rapidly as they could get their muskets off.

Only Si and Shorty, in dropping, had kept the lay of the ground in view,
and without rising they deliberately aimed their pieces whither the
volley had come and fired. A suppressed yell of pain came from the other
side.

"We salted one of 'em, anyway," chuckled Shorty, as he raised on his
knee to reload his gun.

"Gosh all Chrismus," said Si, using his most formidable swear-word, for
he was very angry. "What was you brats shootin' at? Squirrels or angels?
A rebel'd had to be 80 cubits high, like old Haman, for one o' you to've
hit him. Lots o' good o' your packin' around guns and cartridges, if
you're goin' to waste your ammynition on the malaria in the clouds.
Load agin, now, carefully, and when you shoot agin be sure to fetch
something. I'll take my ramrod to the next boy that I ketch shootin'
higher'n a man's head. This ain't no Fourth-o'-July business. Our job's
te kill them whangdoodles over there, and I want you to 'tend strictly
to that."

The threat of a real boyish thrashing and the cool, matter-of-fact way
that Si and Shorty conducted themselves--precisely as if chopping trees
or mowing a field--steadied the boys wonderfully.

"They're about ready to shoot agin," Si spoke down the line, in a
penetrating whisper. "Everybody hug the ground, and watch the flashes.
Each feller git a good line on the flash straight in front of him, and
let the hound have a chunk o' lead just below his belt. If you're all
real good, and shoot just right, I'll take you on a rush right at them
fellers, and we'll scatter what's left like a flock o' quail. Lay low.
There it comes agin. Lay low."

An irregular volley burnt out in the blackness beyond. The bullets sang
around much closer than before, and several of them struck near Si, one
landing in the leaves and moss directly in front of him, and throwing a
wet sprinkle in his face.

"Like the parrot, I was talkin' too much and too loud," thought Si.
"They wuz all reachin' for me, and one feller made a mighty good line
shot. Le's see if I can't better him."

He drew down in his sights as carefully as he could in the darkness, and
pulled the trigger. As the smoke thinned out a little he thought he saw
something beyond which indicated a man staggering and