her now to find blackberries. The whole
hungry regiment had been hunt ing blackberries all day, and for more
than a mile around camp the briers were bare. Si and Shorty succeeded at
last in finding another plentiful patch, upon which they filled up,
and returned to camp for another smoke and an impatient look for the
Commissary teams.

"I like blackberries as well as any other man," mused Shorty, "but it
don't seem to me that last lot was nearly so good as the first we had
this morning. Mebbe the birds kin eat 'em four times a day and seven
days in the week without gittin' tired, but I ain't much of a bird,
myself. I'd like to change off just now to about six big crackers, a
pound o' fat pork and a quart o' coffee. Wonder if the rebel cavalry
could've got around in our rear and jumped our trains? No; 'Joe
Wheeler's critter company,' as that rebel called 'em, hain't quit
runnin' yit from the lickin' Minty give 'em at Shelbyville. Mebbe the
mules have struck. I'd 'a' struck years ago if I'd bin a mule."

The sun began to sink toward the western hills, and still no welcome
sign of coming wagons.

Si remarked despairingly:

"Well, after all the berry-eatin' I've done to-day I feel as holler as
a bee-gum. I don't believe any wagons'll git up to-night, and if we're
goin' to have any supper at all we'd better go out and pick it before it
gits too dark to see."

They had to go a long distance out this time to find a good berry patch.
It was getting dark be fore they fairly began picking their supper.
Presently they heard voices approaching from the other side. They
crouched down a little behind the brier-clumps and listened.

"Be keerful. The Yankee pickets must be nigh. Thar's their campfires."

"Pshaw. Them fires is two miles away. Thar's no pickets fur a mile yit.
Go ahead."

"No sich thing. Them fires ain't a mile off.

"Their pickets are likely right along that 'ere ridge thar."

"Bushwhackers," whispered Si, rising a little to reconnoiter. "One,
two, three, four, five, six on 'em. Sneakin' up to pick off our pickets.
What'd we better do?"

"Only thing I kin think of," whispered Shorty back, feeling around for
a stick that would represent a gun, "is the old trick of ordering 'em to
surrender. It's an awful bluff, but we may work it this time. If they've
got any grit we needn't worry no more about rations. They'll git us."

Si snatched up a piece of rail, and they sprang up together, shouting:

"Halt! Surren