a-stickin' up."

"I don't believe hit nary mite. Hit's men, an' I'm a-gwine t' shoot."

"No, yo' hain't gwine t' make a durned fool o' yourself. Wait a minute.
Hit's a-comin' nigher, an' soon you kin hit it with a rock. I'll jest
do hit t' show yo how skeery yo' air. Le'me look around an' find a
good rock t' throw. If I kin find jest the right kind I kin hit a
yallerhammer at that distance."

This prospect was hardly more reassuring than that of being fired at,
but there was nothing to do but to take whatever might come. To make it
more aggravating, the current had slowed down, until the motion of their
log was very languid. They were about 100 feet from the shore when they
heard the second voice say:

"Heah, I've got jest the right kind o' a dornick. Now jest keep yer eye
peeled an' fixed on that center limb, an' yo'll hear it chunk when I
plunk hit an' show hit's nothin' but a stick o' wood."

Si thought he saw the Lieutenant crouch a little, but was not sure.

The stone came whistling through the air, struck the top of the
Lieutenant's cap and knocked it off into the water.

"Thar," said the second voice triumphantly; "yo' see hit ain't no men.
Jest as I done tole yo'. I knocked the bark offen the end o' one o' the
sticks."

The log moved slowly on, and presently catching in a stronger current,
swept out into the stream again. It seemed so like deliverance, that Si
made a quick blow and knocked the snake off into the water, and Shorty
could not help shouting triumphantly:

"Good-by, Johnnies! Sorry we can't stay with you longer. Got other
engagements down the crick. Ta-ta! See you later."

The chagrined sentry fired an angry shot, but they were already behind a
clump of willows.

"Lootenant," said Shorty, "you put on a whole lot of unnecessary frills,
but you've got good stuff in you after all. You went through that little
affair like a man. I'll back you after this."

"When I desire your opinion, sir, as to my conduct," replied the
Lieutenant, "I shall ask you for it. Until then keep it to yourself. It
is for me to speak of your conduct, not you of mine."

But again they "had hollered before they were out o' the woods," as
Shorty afterward expressed it. The gunfire and the sound of their voices
so near shore had stirred up the rebels. A canoe with three men in
it had pushed out, and, struggling with the current, had made its way
toward them, guided by their own voices. The top of a floating tree had