Willy added his invitation to his brother's, and their friend politely
accepted, suggesting that they should walk back a little way and find
a log. This all three did; and in a few minutes they were enjoying the
lunch which the boys' mother had provided, while the stranger was
telling the boys his views about deserters, which, to say the least,
were very original.

"I seen the conscrip'-guard jes' this mornin', ridin' 'round whar they
knowd they warn' no deserters, but ole womens and children," he said
with his mouth full. "Whyn't they go whar they knows deserters _is_?"
he asked.

"Where are they? We heard they had a cave down on the river, and we
were going there," declared the boys.

"Down on the river?--a cave? Ain' no cave down thar, without it's
below Rockett's mill; fur I've hunted and fished ev'y foot o' that
river up an' down both sides, an' 'tain' a hole thar, big enough to
hide a' ole hyah, I ain' know."

This proof was too conclusive to admit of further argument.

"Why don't _you_ go in the army?" asked Willy, after a brief
reflection.

"What? Why don't _I_ go in the army?" repeated the hunter. "Why, I's
_in_ the army! You didn' think I warn't in the army, did you?"

The hunter's tone and the expression of his face were so full of
surprise that Willy felt deeply mortified at his rudeness, and began
at once to stammer something to explain himself.

"I b'longs to Colonel Marshall's regiment," continued the man, "an'
I's been home sick on leave o' absence. Got wounded in the leg, an'
I's jes' gettin' well. I ain' rightly well enough to go back now, but
I's anxious to git back; I'm gwine to-morrow mornin' ef I don' go this
evenin'. You see I kin hardly walk now!" and to demonstrate his
lameness, he got up and limped a few yards. "I ain' well yit," he
pursued, returning and dropping into his seat on the log, with his
face drawn up by the pain the exertion had brought on.

"Let me see your wound. Is it sore now?" asked Willy, moving nearer to
the man with a look expressive of mingled curiosity and sympathy.

"You can't see it; it's up heah," said the soldier, touching the upper
part of his hip; "an' I got another one heah," he added, placing his
hand very gently to his side. "This one's whar a Yankee run me through
with his sword. Now, that one was where a piece of shell hit me,--I
don't keer nothin' 'bout that," and he opened his shirt and showed a
triangular, purple scar on his shoulder.

"You