ly use you--that is,
after you've downed 'em good and hard."

"Does your Bible say that ere?" asked the rebel.

"Yes, indeed."

"Well, hit must be a new-fangled kind of a Yankee Bible. The only Bible
I ever seed was a piece o' one that used t' be in dad's house, and I've
done heared strangers read hit aloud hundreds o' times, and hit said
nothin' like that. Hit had lots in it 'bout killin' every man and
man-child, and hewin' 'em to pieces afore the Lord, but nothin' 'bout
lovin' and takin' keer o' them that wuz fernest ye."

"Well, it's in there, all the same," said Si impatiently, "and you must
mind it, same's we do. Come, drop that gun, and help us take care o'
these men. They ain't goin' to die. We won't let 'em. They're all right.
Just faint from loss o' blood. We kin fix 'em up. Set your gun agin'
that beech there, and go to the branch and git some water to wash their
wounds, and we'll bring 'em around all right."

There was something so masterful in Si's way, that the rebel obeyed. Si
set his own gun down against a hickory, in easy reach, and had the boys
do the same. He had naturally gained a good deal of knowledge of rough
surgery in the army, and he proceeded to put it to use. He washed the
wounds, stayed the flow of blood, and to take the rising fever out of
the hurts, he bound on them fresh, green dockleaves, wet with water.
After the man he had struck had had his face washed, and his head
thoroughly doused with cold water, he recovered rapidly and was soon
able to sit up, and then rise weakly to his feet.

The rebel looked on wonderingly.

"Well, yo'uns is as good doctrin' hurts as ole Sary Whittleton, and
she's a natural bone-setter," he said.

"Well, don't stand around and gawk,", said Si snappishly. "Help. What's
your name?"

"Gabe Brimster."

"Well, Gabe, go down to the branch and git some more water, quick as you
kin move them stumps o' your'n. Give the men all they want to drink,
and then pour some on their wounds. Then go there and cut some o' them
pawpaws, and peel their bark, to make a litter to carry your pardner
back to the mill. Boys, look around for guns. Smash all you kin find on
that rock there, so they won't be of no more use. Bust the locks good,
and bend the barrels. Save two to make the handles of the litter."

Si proceeded to deftly construct a litter out of the two guns, with some
sticks that he cut with a knife, and bound with pawpaw strips.

A few days before, Si, while