up, with his bayonet
pointed directly at the man's heart. Si saw it in time to thrust it
aside, saying in wrathful astonishment:

"Nate, you little scoundrel, what do you mean? Would you kill a wounded
man?"

"Suttenly I'll done kill him," screamed the boy in a a frenzy of rage.
"Why not? He desarves hit, the hell-hound. All of us Hartburns 've said
we'd done kill him the minnit we laid eyes on him. Now that I've got him
I'm gwine t' finish him."

He made another vicious lunge at the man with his bayonet.

"Indeed you're not," said Si, releasing his hold on the prisoner
and catching Nate's gun. "You mustn't kill a wounded man, you young
wildcat."

[Illustration: "YOU MUST'NT KILL A WOUNDED MAN 143]

"Why not?" shouted the boy, beside himself with rage. "He's done killed
lots o' men. He'll kill more if yo' let him go. He wuz layin' t' kill
yo'. Air yo' gwine t' gin him another chance to down yo'?"

Si wrested the gun from him. Two or three other boys who had been
attracted by the shot came up at this moment. Si gave the prisoner into
the charge of one of them, with instructions to take him to the rear.
Nate released his hold on his gun and made a jump for the one which the
other boy had stood against a tree when he started to take hold of the
prisoner. Again Si was too quick for him. He was by this time so angry
that he was in the mood to give Nate a severe lesson, but the Adjutant,
had ridden forward, called out:

"Go ahead, there, Corporal. We're just behind you."

"Pick up your gun, there, Nate, and come along with me, if you kin
behave yourself. There's work much more important than killin' wounded
bushwhackers. Come along, this minute."

Nate hesitated a moment, then picked up his gun with a vengeful look at
the prisoner.

"I'll kill him yit. Mebbe I'll git a chance this evenin' yit," said he,
and followed Si.

CHAPTER XII. SI AND SHORTY IN LUCK

THEY MAKE A BRIEF VISIT TO "GOD'S COUNTRY."

THE shot fired by Nate Hartburn was the only one that interrupted the
progress of the 200th Ind. to the banks of the Tennessee River. Its
cautious advance at last brought it out on the crest of a hill, at
the foot of which, 200 feet below, flowed the clear current of the
mountain-fed stream. The rebels were all on the other side. Their
pickets could be plainly seen, and they held the further pier of the
burned railroad bridge. To our right rose three strong forts, built the
year previous.

As soon as it w