"Who stands watch next?"
"Me. But it's not time yet."
"Not quite," I said; "but it will be soon. I want you to go back to the
line and tell Sergeant Willis that I'd like to see him a minute."
"Go yourself," he said; "I'm not under your orders."
"If you will do what I ask, I'll take your watch for you," said I.
The tempting offer was accepted at once; the man rose and said, "What is
it you say I'm to tell him?"
The other man also had risen.
"Only that I want to see him."
"Anything wrong?"
"No; tell him I want to see him for a moment out here; that is all."
The man went; his companion remained standing--he had become alarmed,
perhaps.
When Willis came I was under the tree.
"What's up, Jones?"
"I want to know what that dark line means there in front."
"It's a gully," says he.
"I wish you would go out there and look about you; I think our post
ought to be where we can see into it."
"All right," said he; "I'll go and look at it."
I remained on post. It would not do, I thought, to give any intimation
to the men that I had been to the ravine; they were standing near me.
In two minutes Willis returned.
"Jones," says he; "move your post up here. You men stay where you are."
We went out together, Willis and I, to the edge of the ravine.
"You're right, Jones," he says, in a whisper; "the post ought to be
here."
"Yes; it would be easy for those fellows over yonder to surprise us.
This ravine ought to be watched in the day even."
The sergeant showed no intention of leaving me; he seemed to be
thinking. Suddenly he gave his thigh, a resounding slap.
"There!" says he, "now I've done it--but maybe they won't know what that
noise means. Say, Jones, I've got an idea."
"Let's have it."
"We can get lots of fun out here."
"I don't understand. What are you driving at?"
"Well," says he, "you just leave it all to me. Don't you say a word to
them fellows. I'll fix it up and let you in, too. Just be mum now,
old man."
"Tell me what you mean."
But he had already started back.
It ought to be showing signs of day behind me, I was thinking; yet the
weather was bad, and, although it had stopped raining, I knew that in
all likelihood we should have a thick fog which would prolong the duty
of the vedettes and make another relief necessary.
When Willis appeared again, three other men were following--good men of
Company D. I could hear him say to my two fellows; "Go on back to the
line; your time's not up, but you are relieved."
When he reached me, he put Thompson in my place, and led the way back a
short distance and into the edge of the woods.
"Now, men," says he; "we're going to make a fort of that ravine. We want
to fill these sand-bags, and we want some straw or something to screen
them. Jones, you must go twenty yards or so beyond the gully till I
whistle for you, or call you. The rest of us will do the work while
you watch."
The sergeant's little scheme for having his fun was now clear enough.
One of the party had brought a spade, and I noticed that others seemed
to have come up in no light marching order. Willis meant to occupy the
ravine and remain for the day, if possible, in this advanced post, so
near the rebels that his bullets would not fall short. It was all
clear enough.
The party had begun work before I went forward. Passing Thompson, I
skirted the edge of the woods, and went some thirty or forty yards to my
right oblique in the open, and then lay flat, with my eyes to the front.
Soon I heard muffled sounds behind me; the men were filling the
sand-bags. My position cramped me, my neck became stiff. No sound
reached me from the front; I supposed that the nearest rebel vedette was
not nearer than two hundred yards, unless at a point more advanced from
his lines there was some natural protection for him. But what prevented
my being surprised from the woods on my left? I lay flat and stiffened
my neck; light was beginning to show.
At length I heard Willis call me, and I didn't make him call twice. The
ravine, as the light became greater, showed itself almost impregnable
against an equal force of skirmishers. Just where an angle in the
western edge presented a flank of wall toward the north, Willis and his
gang had cut away the earth into a shelf some three feet beneath the
top. Ten sand-bags filled with earth surmounted the summit, with open
spaces between, in order that a musket might be fired through, these
handy port-holes, and the sand-bags were covered with sedge from the
open field. I congratulated our commander on his engineering feat.
The sun had risen, perhaps, but the fog had not lifted; we could yet see
neither enemy nor friend. Willis put me on the right, and reserved the
centre for his own piece; the centre happened to be about two feet
nearer the enemy. From left to right the line was manned by Freeman,
Holt, Willis, Thompson, Berwick.
"Men, attention!" says Willis.
"Take the caps off of your pieces!"
The order was obeyed, the men looking puzzled. Willis condescended to
explain that we must fire a volley into a crowd as Act First; that any
man who should yield to the temptation to fire without orders, was to be
sent back to the line at once.
Slowly the fog began to break; the day would be fair. Suddenly a bullet
whistled overhead; then the report came from the rebel side.
"Be quiet, men!" says Willis.
Everybody had rushed to his place.
"Eat your breakfast," says Willis.
We had no coffee; otherwise we fared as usual.
"The rebels have no coffee, neither," says Willis.
The breakfast was being rapidly swallowed.
"Hello, there!" shouts Willis, and springs for the spade.
Another bullet had whistled above us, this one from our own line in the
rear.
The spade was wielded vigorously by willing hands, passing from one to
another, until a low rampart, but thick, would protect our heads from
the fire of our skirmish line. Meantime the fusillade from both sides
continued.
Willis was at the parapet.
"Look out!" he cries.
A shell passed just above us, and at once a shower of bullets from the
rebels.
"Here, men, quick!" says Willis.
We sprang to the embrasures. The rebels were plainly visible three
hundred yards away, their heads distinct above their pits. Our skirmish
line behind us seemed gone; the shell had been fired not at us but at
our skirmishers, and the volley we had heard had been but the supplement
of the artillery fire--all for the purpose of getting full command of
our line, on which not a man now dared to show his head, for a dozen
Minié balls would go for it at the moment. Unquestionably the rebels had
not detected our little squad.
"Prime, men!" says Willis.
The guns were capped.
"Now, hold your fire till the word!"
Very few shots were now coming. The rebels were having it all their own
way, nobody replying to them. Their bodies to their waists could be
seen; some of them began to walk about a little, for they were not in
any sort of danger, that is, from our line. They were firing with a
system: pit No. 1 would send a ball, then in ten seconds, pit No. 2, and
so on down their line, merely to keep the advantage they had gained. At
irregular intervals two or three shots would be sent at some dummy--a
hat or coat held up by the bayonets of men behind the pits in our rear.
"_Ready!_" says Willis.
Three men were in a group between two of the pits. Another joined them.
"_Aim! Fire!_"
Five triggers were pulled.
"Two down, by the--!" roared Willis, with, a more remarkable oath, than
any I ever saw in print.
The wind was from the southeast, and the smoke had rolled my way; I had
been unable to see the result. In fact, I could hardly see anything. Put
yourself in a hole, and raise your head until your eyes are an inch, or
two above the surface of ground almost level--what can you see? But for
a slight depression between us and the rebels, the position would have
been worthless; yet every evil, according to Dr. Khayme, has its use, or
good side--our fortress was hidden from the enemy, who would mistake it,
if they saw it at all, for one of the pits in our rear, perspective
mingling our small elevation with the greater ones beyond.
We had leaped back into the ravine, which, here was fully eight feet
deep and roomy, and were ramming cartridges. All at once a rattle of
firearms was heard at the rear. Our skirmish-line had taken advantage of
the diversion brought, and had turned the tables; not a shot was coming
from the front.
Freeman looked through an embrasure. "Not a dam one in sight," he said.
Time was passing; the fire of our skirmishers continued; we were doing
nothing, and were nervously expectant.
Holt wished for a pack of cards.
A council of war was held. Thompson was fearful of our left; a gang of
rebels might creep through the woods and take us; we were but sixty
yards from the woods. Willis had confidence that our line could protect
us from such a dash; "they would kill every man of 'em before they could
git to us." To this Thompson replied that if the rebels should again get
the upper hand, and make our men afraid to show their heads, the rebels
could come on us from the woods without great danger. Willis admitted
that Thompson had reason, but did not think the rebels had yet found us
out; at any rate, they would be afraid to come so near our strong
skirmish-line; so for his part, he wasn't thinkin' of the left; the
right was the place of danger--what was down this gully nobody knew; the
rebels might sand a force up it, but not yet, for they didn't know we
were here.
Again a rebel shell howled above, and again a volley from the front was
heard as bullets sang over us, and our men behind us became silent.
We sprang to place, every eye on watch, every musket in its port-hole.
"Don't waste a shot, men," says Willis; "we're not goin' to have another
chance like that. Take it in order from right to left. Berwick first.
Wait till a man's body shows; don't shoot at a head--"
I had fired--Thompson fired immediately after. He had seen that my shot
missed. Again the musketry opened behind us, and both sides pegged away
for a while. Thompson claimed that he had hit his man.
Suddenly a loud rap was heard on one of the sand-bags,--one of the bags
between Willis and Holt,--a bullet had gone through and into the wall of
the ravine behind us. Willis fired.
"Damnation!" says he, "I believe they see us."
Yet it was possible that this was an accident; Holt fired, and then
Freeman, and it became my turn again.
That bullet which had become entirely through the sand-bag and buried
itself deeply in the ground, gave me trouble. I did not believe that an
ordinary musket had such force, and I doubted whether an Enfield had it.
The rebels were getting good arms from England. It might be that some
man over there had a Whitworth telescope rifle; if so he had detected us
perhaps--a telescope would enable him to do it. I said nothing of this
speculation, but watched. Rebel bullets continued to fly over. I saw a
man as low as his waist and fired; almost at the same moment my sand-bag
was struck--the second one on my right, which protected that flank, and
which the bullet, coming from the left oblique, struck endwise; the
bullet passed through, the length, of the bag and went on into the wall
of the gully. I sprang back and caught up the spade.
"What's up, Jones?" asked Willis.
"I'll report directly, Sergeant."
I dug at least two feet before I found the bullet; it was a long, leaden
cylinder, with, a rounded point--not bigger than calibre 45 I guessed.
This was no Enfield bullet. I handed it to Willis; he understood.
"Can't be helped," says he; "they know we're here, boys."
The danger had become great; perhaps there was but one Whitworth over
there, but the marksman would at once tell the skirmishers where we were
posted; then we should be a target for their whole line, and at three
hundred yards their Enfields could riddle our sand-bags and make us
lie low.
Rap, rap, rap! Three sand-bags were hit, and Holt was scratched on the
cheek. The bullets struck the wall behind; one penetrated, the others
fell into the ravine--they were Enfield bullets.
Holt's face was bleeding. The men looked gloomy; we had had our fun.
Willis called another council. His speech was to the effect that we had
done more damage than we had received, and should receive; that all we
had to do was to stay in the ravine until the storm should pass; the
rebels would think that we were gone and would cease wasting their
ammunition; then we could have more fun.
Holt said bravely that he was not willing to give it up yet; so said
Thompson, and so said Freeman.
My vote was given to remain and wait for developments. At this moment
retreat could not be considered; we could not reach the edge of the
woods under sixty yards; somebody would be struck if not killed; it was
doubtful that any could escape sound and whole, for the rebels, if they
had any sense, were prepared to see us run out, and would throw a
hundred shots at us. If our line could ever again get the upper hand of
the rebels, then we could get out easily; if not, we must stay here till
night. We had done all that could be done--had done well, and we must
not risk loss without a purpose; we must protect ourselves; let the
rebels waste their powder--the more they wasted, the better. The only
real danger was that the rebels might advance; but even if they did,
they could not get at us without coming to blows with our line--the
ravine protected our line from their charge. It was our business to stay
where we were and to keep a sharp lookout.
So it was ordered by Willis that while the storm was raging we should
keep one man on watch, and that the others should stay at the bottom of
the ravine. Holt boldly claimed first watch.
The four of us were sitting in the sand; Holt's head was below the level
of the field; every now and then he raised his eyes to the porthole.
Freeman began, taking off his coat.
"Gittin' warm?" asked Willis.
"I'm the man to show you a trick," said Freeman.
He hung the coat on the iron end of the spade, and tied his hat above on
a stick; then he went down the ravine about ten yards, faced us, raised
his dummy, and marched quickly toward us. This was the first dummy that
the rebels had ever seen march, no doubt; at any rate their whole force
was at once busy; the fire rolled from left to right far down the line,
yet when Freeman examined his garments he found that neither hat nor
coat had been struck.
"You see," said Freeman, "we can all run out when we want to."
Noon had come; after eating, I became exceedingly sleepy; I must make
some effort to keep awake.
"Sergeant," I said, "if you say so, I'll go down the gully a little,
and see what's there."
"All right, Jones; but don't go far."
I soon reached a turn in the ravine--a turn to the right, toward our
line. I went on; this stretch was short; the ravine turned toward the
left, getting deeper as it went; again it turned to the left, running
for the Warwick, I supposed--certainly running straight toward the
rebels. I came back and reported.
"Well," says Willis, "if they come on us, we'll have to run. We must
keep two sentinels on post now."
Thompson was posted at the bend.
It was difficult to believe that the rebels would venture up the gully;
they could not know how small was our force; if they should march a
company up the ravine, the company would be exposed to capture by a
sudden rush of our skirmishers. It was probable, however, that a few men
would try to sneak up in order to see how many we were; yet even this
supposition was not necessary, for the rebels were having everything
their own way, and need risk nothing. So I decided in my own mind to be
as patient as possible until dark.
The firing on both sides had ceased, except that an occasional Whitworth
bullet would come at us, fired at such long range that we could not hear
the report; the heads of the rebels were no longer seen. What were they
planning? I was uneasy; I wished that we could find a means for
communicating with our friends in the rear; if they would open fire
again, we might rush out. Yet after all it was best to be quiet
until dark.
I relieved Freeman at the porthole; Holt relieved Thompson at the bend.
Since eleven o'clock Fort Willis had not fired a shot; our game had been
blocked. The notion now came to me that if the rebels wanted us, the way
to get us would be to send men up the ravine just before dark, and at
the same time for a squad of them to steal through the woods to our
left, where they would be ready for us when we should steal out.
"Sergeant!"
"What?"
"Think we'd better get back."
"What's the matter now?"
"Just at dark is the time for the rebels to catch us."
"Fact, by--!" says Willis.
"If you want to get out," said Freeman, the inventor, "I'm here to tell
you how to do it."
"Le's have it," says Willis.
"Make a big smoke!"
Why had I not thought of that expedient? Between, us and Holt, down at
the bend, there was brush growing on the sides of the ravine. Our knives
and the spade were put to use; soon we had a big heap of green boughs
and sprigs. It would take work to touch her off, for there was no dry
wood; but we managed by finding the remains of cartridge papers and
using a free supply of gunpowder. When all was ready, Holt was recalled,
and the match was struck.
"Now, men, to your portholes!" says Willis. "We must give 'em a partin'
salute."
The flame was long in catching. Every eye was alternately peeping to the
front and looking anxiously at the brush heap. At last she caught, and a
thin column of black smoke began to ascend.
"Be sharp, now! Them rebs will want to know what we're up to."
A few curious heads could be seen, but no shot was fired at us, or by us
at them.
The smoke increased, but, alas! the wind was wrong and blew it away from
the woods.
"Hell and Tom Walker!" says Willis.
But heaven--which he had not appealed to--had decreed that Fort Willis
should be evacuated under her own auspices. Our attention had been so
fixed upon two important specks that the rest of the universe had become
a trivial matter. A sudden clap of thunder almost overhead startled the
defenders of the redoubt. Without our knowledge a storm had rolled up
from the Atlantic; the rain was beginning to fall in big icy-cold drops,
already obscuring our vision.
"_Fire!_" shouted Willis.
The tempest burst in fury, and the gang marched bravely back to the
skirmish-line, amidst a hail, not of bullets, but of nature's making.