The reports of muskets in their front proved that the rebels were yet keeping a hot fire directed against the Ticonderoga. But still Frank was not deceived; he knew that all the fighting would not be done at the front. Scarcely had these thoughts passed through his mind, when there was a rapid discharge of fire-arms in their rear, and two of the men fell. As Frank had expected, the rebels had been informed of what was going on, and had sent part of their force to cut the sailors off from the river. For a moment the greatest confusion prevailed. The men, who had been lying about in the shade of the trees, made a general rush for their weapons, and after delivering a straggling and ineffectual fire, hastily retreated, with the exception of Frank's men, and a few of the more courageous of the infantry. The latter concealed themselves behind trees and logs, and deliberately returned the fire of the rebels, while the former, who were old seamen, and had long been accustomed to the discipline of the service, stood at their guns awaiting orders. Mr. Howe, for a moment, stood pale and trembling, and then, without waiting to give any orders, disappeared in the bushes. Frank, who was left alone with but sixty men, was astounded when he witnessed this cowardly conduct of his superior, and he had hardly time to recover from his surprise, when the rebels, after firing another volley, broke from their concealments, with loud yells, and charged toward the guns. This brought Frank to his senses. With the handful of men he had left, he could at least cover the retreat of his timid support.
"Steady there, lads!" he shouted. "Aim low—fire!"
The howitzers belched forth their contents, and, as Frank had taken the precaution to have them loaded with canister, the slaughter was awful. The muskets had also done considerable execution, and the rebels recoiled when they witnessed the havoc made in their ranks. Frank, who was always ready to take advantage of such an opportunity, immediately ordered a counter-charge. The sailors sprang at the word, with a yell, and, led by Frank, who fixed his bayonet as he ran, threw themselves upon the rebels, who at once fled precipitately, leaving their dead and wounded on the field.
"Back to your guns, lads," shouted Frank, "and give 'em a shot before they get out of range."
The men worked with a yell, sending the shells rapidly in the direction in which the rebels had retreated, until a loud roar of musketry at the front told them that they had other enemies with which to deal.
While this fight at the rear had been going on, the sailors who had retreated had been met by the captain and his officers, who were returning from their reconnoissance, and, as soon as order could be restored, an attack had been made on the rebels who were still posted behind the levee. In a few moments Mr. Howe came running up, and addressing himself to Frank, exclaimed:
"What are you doing here, sir—shooting into the woods where there are no rebels? Why are you not at the front, where you belong? If you are afraid to go there, you had better give up the command of that battery."
Frank thought this was a nice way for Mr. Howe to talk, after the manner in which he had behaved a few moments before, but, without stopping to reply, he ordered the guns to be secured, and the men, catching up the trail-ropes, commenced dragging the battery toward the place where the fight was raging, while Mr. Howe again suddenly disappeared.
When Frank arrived at the front, he found the rebels were still behind the levee, where they were exposed to a galling fire from the sailors who were concealed among the trees, evidently preferring to run the risk of being driven out by the musketry than to brave the shells from the Ticonderoga, which now began to fall into the woods just behind them, and bursting, threw dirt and branches in every direction. Without waiting for orders, Frank immediately took up a sheltered position, and straightway opened upon the rebels a hot fire of canister. By the exertions of the officers, the stragglers were all collected, and, while the line was being formed for a charge, Frank was ordered to move his battery out of the woods, into the open field. The young officer's blood ran cold when he heard this command, for the rebels, who greatly outnumbered the sailors, and who were deterred from making a charge and overpowering them only through fear of the shells from the Ticonderoga, were sending a perfect shower of bullets into the bushes where the howitzers were stationed. Even in his present protected position, Frank had lost five of his men, and when he thought what a slaughter there would be when he should move out of his concealment, it made him shudder. But he had always been taught that the success of the navy was owing to "strict discipline;" and once, when he had been reported to the captain for disobeying an order which he had considered as unjust, that gentleman had told him—"Always obey whatever orders you may receive from your superiors, and, if you are aggrieved, you can seek redress afterward." In the present instance, this seemed very poor policy; for what good would it do to make objections to the order after his men had been sacrificed? He had no alternative, however, but to obey. The men, too, were well aware of the danger they were about to incur, but hesitated not a moment when Frank repeated the order to advance. They at once pushed the guns out into the open ground, and the effect was as they had expected. The whole fire of the rebels was directed against them, and every volley left Frank with less men to handle his battery. In fact, it soon became impossible to load the guns; for, as fast as the men picked up a rammer or sponge, they were shot down. It was evident that they could not remain there.
"Jack," said Frank at length, turning to the old boatswain's mate, "go and ask the captain if I can't be allowed to move back to my old position. I can do more execution there. Besides, we'll all be dead men in less than five minutes, if we remain here."