Anxious to make the most of the present opportunity, he began to retreat, hoping to gain the position his command occupied and give the necessary instructions to capture the Confederates as they crossed the stream on the opposite side of the island.
He reached the trunk of the tree and was on the point of moving to the outer branches, when a voice from below startled him.
"Wot yer doin' with thet Union suit on?"
Looking down, Deck saw a sharpshooter gazing up at him. The Confederate had his gun to his shoulder and the barrel was pointed directly for the major's head.
"Got to wear something," answered Deck, speaking as calmly as he could, although he was somewhat shocked by the salutation.
"Ain't you a Yank?" was the next question put.
"A Yank! over here?" queried Deck, in pretended astonishment.
The Confederate sharpshooter was silent for an instant, and shifted an immense quid of plug tobacco from one cheek to the other.
"Say, Major, tumble down right yere!" he ordered abruptly.
"Supposing I won't come down?"