reek; and by
getting into the branch, above its mouth, and following its course, we
should be able to cross the creek.

"Lord! I am thirsty," said Willis; "but look how they have muddied the
branch; it's as bad as the creek."

"That water wouldn't do us any good," I replied.

"No," said he; "it would make us sick."

"But what else can we do?"

"Let's go up the branch, a little," said he.

All sounds in our rear had long since died away. The sun was yet
shining, but in the thick forest it was cool and almost dark. I hoped
that water, food, and a little rest would do us more good than
harm--that time would be saved, in effect.

A hundred yards above the mouth of the branch, we found the water clear.
I still had my canteen, my haversack with a cup in it, and food. Willis
lay on the ground near the stream, while I filled my canteen; I handed
it to him, and then knelt in the wet sand and drank.

The spot might have been well chosen for secrecy; indeed, we might have
remained there for days were it not for fear. A giant poplar had been
uprooted by some storm and had crushed in its fall an opening in, the
undergrowth. The trunk spanned the little brook, and the boughs,
intermingling with the copse, made a complete hiding-place.

I helped Willis to cross the branch; then we lay with the log at our
backs and completely screened from view.

Willis drank another great draught of water. I filled the canteen again,
and examined his wound. His knee was stiff and much swollen; just under
the knee-cap was a mass of clotted blood; this I washed away, using all
the gentle care at my command, but giving him, nevertheless, great pain.
A small round hole was now scan, and by gently pressing on its walls, I
thought I detected the presence of the ball.

"Sergeant," said I, "it's in there; I don't believe it's more than half
an inch, deep."

"Then pull it out," said Willis,

That was more easily said than done. Willis was lying flat on his back,
eating ravenously. From moment to moment I stuffed my mouth with
hardtack and pork.

I sharpened a reed and introduced its point into the wound; an obstacle
was met at once--but how to get it out? The hole was so small that I
conjectured the wound had been made by a buck-shot, the rebels using,
as we ourselves, many smooth-bore muskets, loaded with buck-and-ball
cartridges.

"Willis," said I, "I think I'd better not undertake this job; suppose I
get the ball out, who knows that that