“Don't you never feel nervous again when you're caught in such a scrape,
for, mark my word, no rebel, not even a 'gorilla' would be fool enough
to go gunning for Yankee recruits such a night as last night was.” I
found a good deal of comfort in Taylor's logical admonition after that
when alone on picket in stormy weather.
Just over the divide on Water Mountain, on the side toward the rebel
camp, was an old log shanty. We called it the block house. Our pickets
occupied it by day, and the rebels had possession of it by night. This
happened because the Union picket line was drawn in at night, and the
pickets were posted closer together than during the day. Our line was
advanced soon after daylight.
One morning when we galloped down to the block house from our reserve,
we surprised the Johnnies. They had been a little late in getting
breakfast, and their horses had their nosebags on. We were just as much
surprised as they were, and we stood six to six. Carbines and revolvers
were pointed, but no one fired.
“Give us time to put on our bridles and we'll vacate,” said the sergeant
of the rebel picket.
“All right; go ahead,” our sergeant replied.
The Johnnies bridled their horses, mounted and rode down the mountain.
“We kept a good fire for you all,” the rebel sergeant remarked as they
left.
“And you'll find it burning when you come back tonight,” was the Yankee
sergeant's assuring reply.
After the rebels had got out of sight our boys began to feel that
they had missed a golden opportunity to destroy a detachment of the
Confederate army. We had longed for a “face-to-face” meeting with the
rebels.
“I could have killed two rebels had I been allowed to shoot,” said
Taylor.
“Who told you not to shoot?” demanded the sergeant.
“Well, nobody gave the order to fire. I had my gun cocked and if the
rest of you had killed your man I'd killed mine.”
“Bu-bu-bu-but they had si-si-six t-t-to ou-ou-our si-si-six,
di-di-didn't they?” interrupted Jack Hazelet, whose stammering always
caused him to grow red in the face when he wanted to get a word in in
time and couldn't.
“Yes; we stood six to six, but if each one of us had killed his man they
would all be dead.”
“Je-je-jesso; bu-bu-bu-but di-di-didn't they ha-ha-have gu-gu-guns,
t-t-too?”
“Of course they did.”
“Sup-po-po-posen they ha-ha-had ki-ki-killed 's mama-many f us a-a-as we
di-di-did o-o-o-of th-th-them, wh-wh-where wo-wo-would wc-we-we b-b-be
n-n-now? co-co-confound you!”
As we found that only two of our party had their carbines loaded when we
surprised the rebels, we concluded that it was just as fortunate for us
as it was for the enemy that the meeting had resulted in a stand-off,
although Taylor insisted that if any one had given the command “fire”
he would have killed his man. When his attention was called to the fact
that his carbine was not loaded, he said:
“Well, I could have speared one of them with my sword before they could
all get away.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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