The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1899-02-02
"a voLLEY OF LEADERS DROPPED DEAD"

front of the wagon to find out what wa.
going on He's a sharpshooter from wa,
back. You kin see he's droppin' them mule.
Jest about as fast as he kin load his gun
Them other fellers over there are jest putter
in away, maxim noise. You kin see theil
shots strikin' down the hill there, and every
where, where they Amt doin' nothin'. But
| that feller's out for business. I've bin tryin
to locate him. He's somewhere closeter than
any o. the others Their bullets don't quite
reach, while his goes home every time. See
| there"
The off swing mule dropped this time.
| Lands sakes," calculated the Deacon.
hes costin' Uncle Sam $l50 every time his
gun cracks It's jest sinful to be destroying
property that way Shorty. kin You reach
me that gun o. Sis out o. the wagon? be-
| lieve I'll slip down toward the bank and see
| if l can't find that Teller. I've bin watchin
| the willers along the aidge o the water, and
l believe he's in there"
Don't go, pap" pleaded ST. Some of
the boys on the skirmish-linell find him
| soon, and settle him Don't expose yourself
Stay behind the wagon"
Yes, stay back under cover, Deacon, !"
joined in Shorty. ''Let the boys down there
tend to him. They're gettin' SIC month
for it, and don't want nobody else to inter
fere in their job"
just then the near wheel mule dropped.
"Gi' ME that gun at onct," said the Dea-
con sternly.
Shorty handed him the Springfield and its
cartridge-box without another word. The
Deacon looked over the rifle, "hefted " it,
and tried it at his shoulder to get its poise.
critically examined its sights by aiming at
| yar nbiaatS and thor, ont h,r
as he would that of his trusty hunting-rifie
at home. ALI of his old deer hunting in
stincts revived. He took out several car
tridges turned them over in his hand, and
carefully selected one, tore open the paper.
poured the powder in, removed the paper
from the ball, and carefully rammed it home,
struck the butt Of the gun ON the ground to
make sure of its printing, and put on the cap.
Hold her about a foot under, Pap, at 400
yards, said ST, who had rolled over to the
side Of the wagon, and was watching him
from under the cover, which he had raised up
a little. 'Put your sights up to the 400 mark,
and then draw the top o the bead down fine
into that notch, and she'l put it right where
you hold her."
By this time the sharpshooter had finished
up the mules on the team ahead, and begun
on that of the Deacon. The firing was
furious all along both sides of the river, and
the teamsters in the rear were showing signs
of stampeding. The Wagonmaster was
storming up and down to hold them in
place, and the officers in command of the line
along the river bank were raging at their
men for not suppressing the fire from over
The stream.
''Old man, you'd better not 90 down
there" said q Captain as the Deacon came
walking down, looking very grim and de-
termined. It's getting hotter down there
every minute. The rebels seem determined
to stick to their work, and I've had three
men wounded already"
Look out tor your own men, my son"
answered the Deacon, in whom the fire of
battle was burning. ''I'll look out for my
self. If I'm hit the Government won't lose
nOthin'. I'm only citizen"
He had kept his eye on the clump of
willows, and was sure that his man was in
there, though, the smoke hung around SO con-
fusngly that he could not always make out
where a fresh shot came from. He got down
to where an occasional bullet struck in his
neighborhood, but that did not disturb him.
He began to feel that thrill of man-hunting
which when it seizes man is an Overpower-
ing passion.
Pm goin' to stop him KILN mules" he
said to himself 81 rayly hope won't kill
him, but that's secondary matter Provi-
dencell settle that. It's my duty to stop
him. That's clear If his times come
Providence'll put the bullet where it'll kill
him. If it amt, it won't. That's ALL
Providence indicates my dooty to me. The
responsibility for the rest is with Providence,
who doeth all things well"
He reached the firing-line, strung along
the ragged bluffs, and hiding behind trees,
stumps and stones.
Lay down, there, old man; grab root;