“Wha-wha-what you, you, you dod-dod-dod-dodging at, Cor-cor-corporal?”
“Who-who-who's a dod-dod-dod-dodgmg, Ma-ma-major?”
“You-you're dod-dod-dodging, Cor-cor-corporal!”
A shell burst in front of the captain, and he was seen to duck his head as a piece of the shell went whizzing close to his ear.
“Wha-wha-what you, you, you dod-dod-dodging at, Ma-ma-major?”
“Who-who-who's a dod-dod-dod-dodging, Cor-cor-corporal?”
“You-you-you're dod-dod-dod-dodging, Ma-ma-major!”
Of course everybody dodged—it was natural that they should under such circumstances.
I was detailed with another trooper to go down in a ravine to the right of our position, to fill the canteens of the company. I jumped at the chance, as I thought it would take me out of the direct range of the rebel artillery for a little while. We kept well to the rear of the regiment till we reached a row of trees and underbrush skirting the ravine. Then we faced to the front and followed a fence about half a mile. We found water and dismounted to fill our canteens. Pieces of shell began to drop all around us and into the water. We sprang up to ascertain the cause of this new departure, and discovered that the rebel artillery was shelling the woods. It was subsequently learned from a rebel prisoner that the Johnnies thought a column of Federal infantry was advancing upon their position under cover of the trees.
“We can't stay here,” exclaimed my companion.