The spot might have been well chosen for secrecy; indeed, we might have remained there for days were it not for fear. A giant poplar had been uprooted by some storm and had crushed in its fall an opening in, the undergrowth. The trunk spanned the little brook, and the boughs, intermingling with the copse, made a complete hiding-place.
I helped Willis to cross the branch; then we lay with the log at our backs and completely screened from view.
Willis drank another great draught of water. I filled the canteen again, and examined his wound. His knee was stiff and much swollen; just under the knee-cap was a mass of clotted blood; this I washed away, using all the gentle care at my command, but giving him, nevertheless, great pain. A small round hole was now sean, and by gently pressing on its walls, I thought I detected the presence of the ball.
"Sergeant," said I, "it's in there; I don't believe it's more than half an inch, deep."
"Then pull it out," said Willis,
That was more easily said than done. Willis was lying flat on his back, eating ravenously. From moment to moment I stuffed my mouth with hardtack and pork.
I sharpened a reed and introduced its point into the wound; an obstacle was met at once--but how to get it out? The hole was so small that I conjectured the wound had been made by a buck-shot, the rebels using, as we ourselves, many smooth-bore muskets, loaded with buck-and-ball cartridges.
"Willis," said I, "I think I'd better not undertake this job; suppose I get the ball out, who knows that that will be better for you? Maybe you'd lose too much blood."
"I want it out," said Willis.
"But suppose I can't got it out; we might lose an hour and do no good. Besides, I must insist that I don't like it. I think my business is to let your leg alone; I'm no surgeon."