he mortar-boats in full blast,
bombarding the city, every shot lighting up the stream for a wide space
around. But the gun crews were too busy to pay any attention to the
seeming drift-log that glided silently by the fleet or to notice the man
that lay at full length within it. On he went, trusting to the current
and keeping his recumbent position. The next day's dawn found him in the
midst of the Confederate picket-boats in front of the city. Here, tying
a white handkerchief to his paddle, he lifted it as a flag of truce, and
sat upright with a loud hurrah for Jeff Davis and the Southern
Confederacy. As may well be imagined, his cheers were echoed by the
boatmen when they learned his mission, and he was borne in triumph
ashore and taken to General Pemberton's head-quarters. He received a
warm welcome from the general, alike for the message he brought and the
very desirable supply of percussion caps. It was with no little
admiration that Pemberton heard the story of a daring feat that seemed
utterly impossible for a cripple on crutches.

During the next day the scout wandered about the beleaguered city,
viewing the animated and in many respects terrible scene of warfare
which it presented,--the fierce bombardment from the Federal works,
extending in a long curve from the river above to the river below the
city; the hot return fire of the defendants; the equally fierce exchange
of fire between the gunboats and mortars and the intrenchments on the
bluffs; the bursting of shells in the city streets; the ruined
habitations, and the cave-like refuges in which the citizens sought
safety from the death-dealing missiles. It was a scene never to be
forgotten, a spectacle of ruin, suffering, and death. And the suffering
was not alone from the terrible enginery of war, but from lack of food
as well, for that dread spectre of famine, that in a few weeks more was
to force the surrender of the valiantly defended city, was already
showing its gaunt form in the desolated streets and the foodless homes.

Fontain was glad enough after his day and night among the besieged to
seek again the more open field of operations outside. Receiving a
despatch from General Pemberton to his colleague in the field, and a
suitable reward for his service, he betook himself again to the canoe
which had stood him in such good stead and resumed his task of danger.
He was on a well-guarded river and had to pass through a country full of
foes, and the peril