ter the setting
up of the big gun, during which interval a sort of fort had been
constructed on the hill and a redoubt thrown up.

"I think so," answered Russ. "We couldn't have a better day, as far as
sunshine is concerned. I'm ready to film whenever you are."

"I'll give the word in a minute. Paul, you're in charge of a detachment
of Union soldiers that storms the hill as soon as the big gun has
silenced the battery there."

"Very well, sir."

The big gun rattled out its booming challenge and was replied to by
volleys from the rifles of the Confederates on the hill and by their
field artillery, which they hurriedly brought up.

Shot after shot was fired, and one after another the Confederate cannon
were disabled. They were blown up by small charges of powder put under
them, set off by fuses lighted by the Confederates themselves, but this
did not show in the picture, and it looked as though the Southern
battery was blown up by shots from the big gun.

"All ready now, Paul! Lead your men!" yelled the director, who was
standing near Russ and his camera. "Rush right up the hill. Stop firing
here!" he called to those in charge of the big gun.

But something went wrong, or some one misunderstood. As Paul was
charging up the hill at the head of his little band, Russ, turning his
head for an instant, saw a man about to pull the lanyard of the big gun.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" he yelled. "It's aimed right at Paul and his
fellows!"

But Russ was too late. The man pulled the cord. There was a deafening
roar, a cloud of smoke, a sheet of fire, and a black projectile was sent
hurtling on its way against the hill, up the side of which Paul was
climbing with his soldiers.

CHAPTER XXI

THE BIG SCENE

Nothing could be done! No power on earth could stop that projectile now
until it had spent itself, or until it had struck something and
exploded.

Horror-stricken, those near the big gun looked across the intervening
space. How many would survive what was to follow?

The man who had pulled the lanyard sank to the ground, covering his face
with his hands.

For a brief instant Paul, leading his men, looked back at the sound of
the unexpected shot. He had been told that no more were to be fired.
Doubtless, this was an extra one to make the pictures more realistic.
But when he saw, in a flash, something black and menacing leaping
through the air toward him and his men, instinctively he cried:

"Duck, every