now. They carried bread and meat
to that old prophet. There's a lot o' mighty good men down here in this
valley now in terrible want of grub, and nothin' but birds kin git over
the roads to the rear very well."

"Don't speak lightly o' the Lord and His ways, Shorty," said the Deacon
severely.

"'Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust Him for His grace.
Behind a frowning Providence
He hides a smilin' face,'

as the hymn says. Here, take these chickens in one hand and this pistol
in the other, and guard 'em while I go down to the branch and wash and
git some water. Then I'll cook your breakfast."

Again the savory smell of the boiling chickens attracted sick boys, who
begged for a little of the precious food. Having double the quantity,
the Deacon was a little more liberal, but he had to restrain Shorty,
who, despite his own great and gnawing hunger, would have given away the
bigger part of the broth to those who so desperately needed it.

"No, Shorty," said the prudent Deacon. "Our first duty is to ourselves.
We kin help them by gittin' you and Si on your feet. We can't feed the
whole Army o' the Cumberland, though I'd like to."

A generous cupful was set aside for Capt. McGillicuddy, which his
servant received with gratitude and glowing reports of the good the
former supply had done him.

With the daylight came the usual shells from the rebel guns on Lookout
Mountain. Even the Deacon was getting used to this noisy salutation to
the morn, and he watched the shells strike harmlessly in the distance
with little tremor of his nerves. As the firing ceased, amid the
derisive yells of the army, he said quietly:

[Illustration: GIT DOWN FROM THERE! COMMANDED THE DEACON 21]

"That last shell's saved me a good deal o' work diggin'. It, tore out a
hole that'll just do to bury the carcasses of these dogs."

Accordingly, he dragged the carcasses over after breakfast, and threw
the dirt back in the hole upon them.

The two remaining chickens were stowed in a haversack, and during
the day hung outside from the ridge-pole of the crib, where they were
constantly under the eye of either the Deacon or Shorty, who took turns
watching them. That night the Deacon slept with them under his head,
though they were beginning to turn a little, and their increasing
gameness brought a still larger herd of dogs about. But the Deacon had
securely fastened the door, and he let them rage around as they pleased