"The sergeant had gone to the head-board, I to the foot. I saw a twinkle in his eye as he turned over the rough comfort, his hand reached down—he drew it up gradually, and the old woman slid as gradually from the lock to the muzzle of a long Kentucky rifle. 'O Lord,' groaned she, as she keeled over on her right side at the foot of the bed.
"A glow of admiration overspread the Sergeant's face as he looked at that rifle.
"'Well, I swow, old woman, is this what you call a
private fixin'?' said the Sergeant. 'A queer bed-fellow you've got; and just look, Captain,' said he, trying the ramrod, 'loaded, capped, and half cocked.'
"The heavy manner in which the old lady fell over satisfied me that we hadn't all the armory, and I directed her to leave the bed and stand on the floor.
"'Can't, can I, Ann?' addressing one of the women.
"'No, marm can't, she is helpless.'
"'Got the rheumatics, had 'em a year and better,' groaned the old woman.
"'Hadn't 'em when you shook your fist under my nose in the yard,' said the Sergeant. 'Get off the bed;' catching the old woman by the arm, he helped her off. She straightened up with difficulty, holding her clothes at the hips with both hands. 'Hold up your hands,' said the Sergeant. He was about to assist her, when not relishing that, she lifted them up; as she did so, there was a heavy rattling sound on the floor. The old woman jumped about a foot from the floor clear out of a well filled pillow cushion, dancing and yelling like an Indian. Some hardware must have struck her toe and made her forget her rheumatism.
"That bag had two Colt's navy size, two pistols English make, with all the trappings for both kinds, and two dozen boxes of best make English water proof caps.