nd down to hold
them in place, and the officers in command of the line along the river
bank were raging at their men for not suppressing the fire from over the
stream.

"Old man, you'd better not go down there," said a Captain as the Deacon
came walking down, looking very grim and determined. "It's getting
hotter down there every minute. The rebels seem determined to stick to
their work, and I've had three men wounded already."

"Look out for your own men, my son," answered the Deacon, in whom the
fire of battle was burning. "I'll look out for myself. If I'm hit the
Gover'ment won't lose nothin'. I'm only a citizen."

He had kept his eye on the clump of willows, and was sure that his man
was in there, though the smoke hung around so confusingly that he could
not always make out where a fresh shot came from. He got down to where
an occasional bullet struck in his neighborhood, but that did not
disturb him. He began to feel that thrill of man-hunting which when it
seizes a man is an overpowering passion.

"I'm goin' to stop him killin' mules," he said to himself. "I rayly hope
I won't kill him, but that's a secondary matter. Providence'll settle
that. It's my duty to stop him. That's clear. If his time's come
Providence'll put the bullet where it'll kill him. If it ain't,
it won't. That's all. Providence indicates my duty to me. The
responsibility for the rest is with Providence, who doeth all things
well."

He reached the firing-line, strung along the ragged bluffs, and hiding
behind trees, stumps and stones.

"Lay down, there, old man; grab a root; keep under cover, or you'll git
hit," some of them called out to him, noticing him as they turned to
load. "The air is so full o' bullets you kin ketch your hat full if you
only hold it up."

"All right, boys, I'll lay low. I've come down here to help you,"
answered the Deacon.

"Bully for you; we need it."

The Deacon took his position behind a big black walnut, while he
reconnoitered the situation, and got his bearings on the clump of
willows. He felt surer than ever of his man, for he actually saw a puff
of smoke come from it, and saw that right behind the puff stood a willow
that had grown to the proportions of a small tree, and had its bark
rubbed off by the chafing of driftwood against it.

"He's right behind that peeled wilier," the Deacon said, "and takes a
rest agin it. Three inches to the left o' that, and three foot from
the ground'll take him square