The Port Gibson reveille., 1916-07-27

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So the party was divided into two
reliefs Mr.. Wilkes. Upton, and
Mexican composed one; Kynaston, No
Ian, and Wilson the other. It was
pitch-black; the hours passed like
years. The night was so still, and the
stiffness 80 nerve-racking. that every
crackle in the brush, every call of
night bird, every gurgle of the creek.
brought the defenders to their loop
holes In anticipation of an attack. But
the night passed without alarm.
though 1t was not until dim daylight
showed the column of smoke from the
besiegeFs' camp fire that the defense
relaxed its vigilance.
Il wish / dared run out to that
creek bed for a bucket of water"
growled Kynaston. "Salt bacon isn't
any too appetizing. There are ponies
in the stables behind; I'm going to
try 1t. Give me the bucket"
Before anyone could stop him he
he seized a bucket and dashed into
the stable. A moment later they saw
him fiat upon his pony, carrying his
rifle low and to the right, galloping
down the trail to the creek bottom,
where the water gurgled halfway be-
tween the two contending parties.
A. hundred yards! A shot. Two
hundred yards! A storm Of bullets
from the defense covered his reckless
venture. Three hundred yards! His
pony, stumbling and slipping down the
steep banks, plowed its nose along
twelve feet of earth-and the young
American found himself lying face
down behind a mesquit bush on the
banks of the stream, his hand holding
the bucket over the edge, trying to
haul back forty pounds Of dirty water.
A bullet wheeped past his ear. The
scream Of horse in pain made. him
turn, spilling half the contents Of his
bucket. His pony was down, shot
through the barrel. He wormed his
way back to the shelter Of its body,
carrying with him the half-bucket OF
dirty water that meant life to the de-
tenders of the house.
Halfway to the house he got! Then
the fusillade from the attackers made
him throw himself to the ground in q
wild attempt to seek cover. The an
swering roar from the loopholes Of the
house atop the slope behind him told
him the grateful news that the gar
rison had seen his predicament.
Time after time shot wheeped
close to his head Time after time he
carefully pulled that half-illed bucket
with it's precious contents closer to
him so that it should not be spilled.
Time after time he sank closer and
still more close into the little hollow
that sheltered him, biding his oppor.
tunity for a final scramble uphill to
the safety of the house.
From this vantage-point on the
slope, Kynaston could see one rebel
after another attempt to take a posi-
ton from which he could be outfianked
and thus forced to run across the open
space of the unsheltered hillside.
Bullet after bullet made him hug
the ground closer and closer.
Presently he heard shout from the
house that sent the red blood coursing
again through his veins.
"Oh, Kynaston!" It said, duck your
nut, youngster; duck your nut! You're
right in my line o. f1re-Tm comm
down to you"
Down went Kynaston's head. He
dared not turn to look, for he knew
that no man living can turn without
partially rising. Three Mexicans
skulked across the road, taking cover
in the thin fringe of mesquit along
the trail. The leader stopped long
enough to fire twice at Kynaston. The
American rife spat out its answer. At
the same time Kynaston heard another
rifle crack from higher up the hill.
Upton, prone in the dirt, was cover
ing Kynaston's retreat.
Kynaston heard Upton's shot wheep
past him just as his own finger pressed
the trigger. The man in the road be-
low him staggered, spun around twice
and dropped upon his face.
He waiter no longer, but sprang to
his feet, gripped the half-empty water
bucket with one hand, and trailing his
rifle with the other dashed up the mar
row trail to the house, where he was
received with hearty congratulations.
"Of course. we needed it badly"
said Mrs. Fame as she took the bucket
from his hand, "but not so badly az
that" She pointed to thin line OF
red that showed above his collar,
Kynaston raised his hand to it and
laughed.
"It cant be anything. pledge
you my word / never knew was
touched Oh, Isay-"
He broke off suddenly as he looked
at Dorothy Upton, for her eyes were
full of telltale tears.
''There they come again!" growled
Wilkes, pointing down the HILL
A group of rebels had gathered
about the dead man. Even as the
Americans watched they came forward
slowly up the slope, waving for flag
a shirt that was long past all days Of
whiteness.
Come on, Wilkes, and hear what
they've got to say"
Mr.. Upton and the old man walked
out to meet the flag of truce.
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s Do you think that Mrs. Fame