ver the
ground.

A hail came, and Dick flattened himself against the ground and lay
perfectly still. Evidently the sentinel was satisfied that his fancy had
been making merry with him, as he did not look further at the shadow,
and Dick, after waiting two or three minutes, resumed his slow creeping.

He reached the edge, shoved the board into it, and dropped gently into
the water beside it, submerged to the head. Then, pushing his support
before him, he struck out for the middle of the stream.

CHAPTER XI. THE TAKING OF VICKSBURG

Dick was a fine swimmer, he had a good stout plank, and the waters of
the river were warm. He felt that the chief dangers were passed, and
that the muddy Mississippi would now bear him safely to the blockading
fleet below. He gave the plank another shove, sending it farther out
into the stream, and then raised himself up until his elbows rested upon
it. He could thus float gently with a little propulsion from his legs to
the place where he wanted to go.

He saw lights along the bluff and the bar below, and then, with a sudden
shoot of alarm he noticed a dim shadow move slowly from the shore. It
was a long boat, holding a dozen rowers, and several men armed with
rifles, and it was coming toward him. He did not know whether it was
merely an ordinary patrol, or whether they had seen the darker blot on
the stream that he and the plank made, but in any event the result would
be the same.

He slipped his arm off the plank and sank in the stream to the chin.
Then, propelling it gently and without any splashing of the water, he
continued to move down the stream. He was hopeful that the riflemen
would mistake him and his plank for one of those stumps or logs which
the Mississippi carries so often on its bosom.

The head of the boat turned from him a little, and he felt sure now that
he would drift away unnoticed, but one of the soldiers suddenly raised
his rifle and fired. Dick heard the bullet clip the water close beside
him, and he swam as hard as he could for a few moments. Then he
settled again into quiet, as he saw the boat was not coming toward him.
Doubtless the man had merely fired the shot to satisfy himself that it
was really a log, and if Dick allowed it to float naturally he would be
convinced.

It was a tremendous trial of nerves to run the gantlet in this way, but
as it was that or nothing he exerted all his will upon his body, and let
himself float slowly, sunk again to