Part 4 (1/2)

”You will not find us at all bashful,” answered Frank, and he began helping himself most bountifully to every thing on the table.

It did not take them long to become acquainted, and the boys found that their new s.h.i.+pmates were much better educated than the majority of the sailors they had met. They were a good-natured, jovial set of fellows, and the meal-hour pa.s.sed away quickly and pleasantly.

Immediately after supper the corporal ordered all hands below to pump out the s.h.i.+p. In a quarter of an hour this was accomplished, and as they were ascending to the boiler-deck. Woods remarked:

”I wish I was back in Wisconsin again for a little while.”

”Are you tired of the navy?” inquired Frank.

”Oh, no!” answered Woods; ”but I should like to see my friends again, and try my hand at quail-shooting.”

”Are you fond of hunting?”

”Yes, indeed; I spend all my spare time in the woods, when I am at home.”

This was the very man, of all others, that Frank would have chosen for a companion, and he informed Woods that he also was very fond of rural sports. They seated themselves on the boiler door railing, and each related some of his hunting and fis.h.i.+ng adventures, and, finally, Woods proposed that they should go over the river into Kentucky, on the following morning, on a squirrel hunt. Frank, of course, readily agreed to this. He immediately started in search of his cousin and Simpson, and informed them of the proposed excursion. When he returned to the place where he had left Woods, he found him with a musket on his shoulder, and a cartridge-box buckled about his waist, pacing up and down the deck.

”I'm on watch, you see,” he said, as Frank came up, ”You will go on at midnight; so you had better go and turn in. If we go hunting to-morrow, we must start by four o'clock at least, for we have a good way to walk before we reach the hunting-ground. Good night.” And Woods, settling his musket more firmly on his shoulder, continued his beat, while Frank sought his hammock.

About midnight he was awakened by a hand laid on his shoulder, when, starting up, he found one of the corporals standing beside his hammock holding a lantern in his hand.

”Is your name Nelson?” he inquired.

Frank answered in the affirmative, and the corporal continued:

”Roll out, then, for it is time for you to go on watch. But be careful when you come out, or you'll be shot.”

”Shot!” exclaimed Frank. ”Who'll shoot me? Are there any rebels around here?”

”Yes, plenty of them. There are some out on the bank now. I was walking with Woods, when I happened to look up, and saw two men, with their muskets pointed straight at us; but we got out ofthe way before they had time to shoot. Hurry up, now, but don't expose yourself,” and the corporal hurried aft, hiding his lantern under his coat of the went.

What Frank's feelings were, we will not attempt to say. He was not a coward, for we once saw him alone in the forest, standing face to face with a wounded wild-cat, with no weapon in his hands but an ax; but fighting a wild-cat and a rebel sharp-shooter were two widely different things. He had never heard the whistle of a hostile bullet, nor had he ever seen a rebel; and it is not to be wondered at, if his feelings were not of the most enviable nature. But he was not one to shrink from his duty because it was dangerous; and he drew on his clothes as quickly as possible, and seizing a musket and cartridge-box that stood in a rack close by the cabin door, he hurried aft, where he found Woods concealed behind the port wheel-house, and the corporal behind a chicken-coop. They both held their guns in readiness, and were peering into the woods, as if trying to pierce the thick darkness that enshrouded them. The Illinois was tied up close to the bank, which, as the water in the river was low, was about thirty feet in hight; and as the moon was s.h.i.+ning very brightly, a person hidden in the bushes could distinctly see every thing on deck.

”Keep close there,” said Woods, as Frank came up. ”The corporal says he saw some guerrillas on the bank.”

Frank accordingly concealed himself behind a stanchion, and his hand trembled considerably as he c.o.c.ked his musket and brought it to his shoulder. They remained in this position for nearly a quarter of an hour, when, suddenly, something stirred in the bushes.

”There they are,” whispered the corporal, drawing himself entirely out of sight, behind the chicken-coop. ”Look out, they'll shoot in a moment.”

Frank kept a close watch on the bushes, and presently discovered a white object moving about among them.

”I see something, boys,” he said; ”but it don't look to me like a man.”

”Yes, it is a man,” exclaimed the corporal, excitedly. ”Shoot him.”

In obedience to the order, Frank raised his gun to his shoulder, and an ounce ball and a couple of buckshot went cras.h.i.+ng through the bushes. The commotion increased for a moment, and then ceased, and something that sounded very much like a groan issued from the woods.

”By gracious, you hit one of them,” exclaimed the corporal. ”That was a good shot. We'll teach these rebs that it isn't healthy to go prowling about here at night.”

Frank hastily reloaded his musket, and they waited, impatiently, for nearly an hour, for the other guerrilla to show himself, but the woods remained as silent as death.