and we in turn
meekly held out our wrists, and _tried_ to look happy and amused--and
made a dismal failure of it. Old Close was as brave, himself, as a lion.
_He_ had as soon go in a fight as not; a little sooner! When balls
swarmed around, he didn't care a bit. He was in a position to do this
thing. But it was suffering to us. Each man waited, with anxious heart,
for his turn to come, for old Close to "pass upon his condition." Those
whom he approved, were pleased to death, and those whom he didn't, hated
him from that time.

I honestly believe that old Irishman gave me the worst scare I had in
that campaign, and I am sure that a compliment, on the field, from
General Longstreet himself, would not have pleased me more, than that
snuffy old fellow's verdict, after feeling my pulse that I "would do all
right." It was quite a curious scene altogether!

=Where the Fight Was Hottest=

In a few minutes Lieutenant Anderson came down and ordered us forward.
He told us "the sharp-shooters were making it a little warm" up there.
When the guns got to the top of the rise, they must go at a trot to
their positions, the sooner to get the horses from under fire. Twenty or
thirty steps brought us to the top of the sharp little ascent. Here we
found a few of our sharp-shooters exchanging compliments with the enemy,
and the balls were knocking up the dirt, and whistling around. I was
interested in watching one of our fellows. He was squatting down,
holding his rifle ready. A Federal sharp-shooter, whom we could not see,
was cracking at him. Three times a ball struck right by him, and came
whizzing by us. He kept still, and patiently bided his time. Suddenly,
he threw up his rifle and fired, and then exclaimed "Well! I got _you_
anyhow." The balls stopped coming. This man said that the concealed
Federal sharp-shooter had been shooting at him for some time and he had
been waiting for him. At last, catching sight of a head rising from
behind a bush, he got his chance, as we saw, and dropped his man. Our
guns were placed in their position, selected for them on the line, and
the horses sent back to the rear.

Our position here was right on the infantry line of battle. That is, on
that line the infantry afterwards took. For when we got on the spot,
there was no infantry there,--nothing except the sharp-shooters, already
referred to. The line was traced by a continuous pile of dirt thrown up,
I don't know by whom, before we got on the gro