“Doc, Captain Doc!”
“Don’t none o’ yo’ go near the windows, but just yo’ keep still where yo’ be,” said the Captain, who then threw up a sash, and looking down, asked what was wanted.
“You see, Captain, that General Baker has all his men ready to attack you, but he gives you one more chance. The fifteen minutes are up, and he sent me to ask if you are going to surrender, and give the guns up?”
“I can’t give them up to him. I don’t desire no fuss, and we’ve got out of the street into our hall for the safety of our lives, and there we’re going to remain; but we are not going to give up the guns to anybody without authority to take ’em.”
The messenger galloped back to his chief.
It was a time of too intense feeling for speech, in that hall. A brief moment of suspense, and the sound of hoofs was heard, and the horsemen who had been stationed in front of the building removed to a street in the rear.
Then down by the river-bank came a flash, a quick, sharp report, and a small column of smoke rose straight up into the air. It was a signal gun, and quickly followed by a volley from the men stationed behind the abutment of the railroad bridge.
“Crash! crash! crash!” came the bullets like hail through the glass windows, for the strong shutters had not been closed; the little band preferring exposure to suffocation and ignorance of the enemies’ maneuvers.
As the colored men had less than five rounds of cartridges, they reserved their fire twenty or thirty minutes. Then Captain Doc gave the order. The discipline of the men was excellent, and their small supply was eked out by irregular and infrequent discharges.