S VALLES GRANDES.

"_November 20, 1863_.

"Lieutenant,--Message received, and the messenger fed.
Corporal Coffey and eight men leave here at 10.15 P.M.

"JAMES MULLIGAN, _Sergeant_."

"Come here, little doggie," said Sergeant Cunningham. "If we get out
of this, the company shall pay for a silver collar and a medal of
honor for the finest dog in the army."

"If that detail marches at the regulation gait of three miles an
hour," I said, "it should be here by a quarter-past one, and it is now
a quarter to twelve."

My anxiety over our prospects was so great I neglected to show proper
gratitude to our devoted messenger.

"The men will do better than that, sir, if they keep on the road. The
trouble will be in finding this trail. They have never been this
way."

"I think the junction of this and the hot-springs trail cannot be far
from here. Let's take a shot at that log every three minutes from now
on, and the noise may attract our friends."

We began firing at once, aiming at the under side of the log where it
touched the earth. I am confident this must have sent some sand and
gravel into the eyes of the rollers, if it did no other damage.

Two of the trigging-stones we had dropped were soon undermined and
sunk, and the log had stopped at the third, less than a hundred yards
away. As it came on, the sergeant climbed to the top of the chimney,
and shortly afterwards returned with the report that he had seen the
prostrate body of a warrior revealed beyond--good evidence that his
first shot had been fatal. If the next two stones should be as rapidly
removed as the others, we feared the Indians would reach us, unless
the rescuing party prevented, at about half-past twelve.

Marked by our periodical shots at the log, the time hurried all too
rapidly on, the Indians slowly and surely approaching the cabin.

The third stone disappeared, and the log moved with a louder grating
over the gravelly soil to the fourth and last obstacle, about thirty
yards away, and paused.

"I believe, lieutenant," said Cunningham, "I could hit those fellows'
legs now from the chimney."

"All right, sergeant. Close your door and go up and try it," I
replied. "A redskin with a broken leg can do us as little injury as
one with a broken head."

The words were hardly spoken and the sergeant had barely reached the
fireplace, when, as if in anticipation of this movement, two figures
leaped over the end of the log neares