Instantly there was a loud clicking all along the line. The Illinois soldiers, almost to a man, fixed their bayonets. Half of them sprang to their feet, and all aimed their shining points at the poor young Hoosier patriot, filling the air with shouts of derision.
It was plain, even to Si in his inflamed state of mind, that the odds against him were too heavy.
"Unfix—Bay'net!" came from half the regiment.
Si concluded he had better get out of a bad scrape the best way he could. So he took off his bayonet and put it back in its place. He shouted words of defiance to his tormentors, but they could not be heard in the din.
"Shoulder—Arms!" "Right—Face!" "Right shoulder shift—Arms!" "Forward—March!" These commands came in quick succession from the ranks amidst roars of laughter.
Si obeyed the orders and started off.
"Left—left—left!"
"Hayfoot—strawfoot!"
Forgetting his blisters. Si took the double-quick while the mob swung their caps and howled with delight.
Si didn't "ketch up" with the 200 Ind. until after it had gone into camp. Shorty had a quart of hot coffee waiting for him.