“I see him!” replied the sergeant as he leveled his piece, and fired.
The rebel was wounded, but he did not come down; and the captain of the company ordered his men to move forward. From the thunder of the artillery and the rattle of musketry, it was evident that heavy work was in progress on the right and left.
“Forward, men!” said Somers, repeating the order of Captain Benson.
The men were scattered along an irregular line, and firing into the bushes, which partially concealed the rebel skirmishers. Somers’s platoon advanced a little more rapidly than the rest of the line, being favored with a few rods of dry ground. He had urged them forward for the purpose of dislodging three sharpshooters perched in a large tree.
“Come down, rebs!” shouted Somers, as he reached the foot of the tree, and told half a dozen of his men to point their guns towards them.
“What d’ye say, Yank?” demanded one of them.
“Will you come down head first, or feet first? Take your choice quick!” replied the lieutenant.
“As you seem to be in arnest, we’ll come down the nateral way.”
They did come down without a more pressing invitation, and were disarmed, ready to be sent to the rear.