s.

It was now daylight, but a dense fog prevented seeing more than a few
feet.

"We can't wait any longer," said the Colonel. "Pass the word down the
line to move forward. Make no noise till the enemy opens fire. Then
everybody push forward as rapidly as possible for the works."

"The first fire will probably go over our heads and do little damage,"
said Capt. McGillicuddy, stepping down to the center, so that his
whisper could be heard by all. "It's always so when men fire downhill.
Then, you all want to be careful and fire low, so as to hit as many as
possible, and rattle them in their future firing. The more of them we
can hit the less of us will be hit afterward. Forward--Guide right!"

It seemed as if the crashing of their marching feet was so loud that
the rebels on the hill could not fail to hear it, and they held their
breaths in painful expectancy of the volley. But they had gotten a rod
or more into the entangling brush of the abatis, and were stumbling and
crashing amid the baffling branches, before they heard the voice of the
previous night command:

"Ready--Aim--aim low--Fire!"

The rebel muskets crashed together in a terrific volley, which generally
passed over the heads of the 200th Ind., though a few men fell into the
brush with wounds.

Si had gone up the path that he had found the night before, and
therefore had no struggle with the fallen trees to shake his nerves and
disturb his aim. He had calculated upon this. He brought his musket down
deliberately and took good aim at the point whence the voice of command
had come. As his gun cracked he heard voices cry:

"The Kunnel's shot. Look out for the Kunnel thar."

Another voice immediately spoke up in command: "Steady, men! Keep cool!
Fire low, and give it to the blue-bellied scoundrels!"

Then broke out a mad rage of death and destruction, in which both sides
seemed in the fiercest insanity of murder. The 200th Ind., encouraged
by the shouts of their officers, pressed forward through the baffling
tree-tops, stumbling, falling, rising again, firing as fast as they
could load their guns, and yelling like demons. They were frantic to
get through the obstructions and come to hand-to-hand struggle with the
fiends who were yelling and firing from the top of the breastworks.

The rebel battery in the fort began hurling a tornado of shells as near
as they could bring their guns to bear on the yelling. This aroused
its enemy battery of the night be