As they rode by, they urged Evelyn’s mamma either to leave the house at once or to go down into the basement, where they might be safe from the bullets. Then they galloped on across the field to get the rest of their men, who were in the trenches beyond. Before they reached there a lot of men appeared on the edge of the wood in front of the house. No one could tell how many they were; but the sun gleamed on their arms, and there was evidently a good force. At first they were on horseback; but there was a “Bop! bop!” from the trenches in the field behind the house, and they rode back, and did not come out any more. Next morning, however, they too had dug a trench. These, Evelyn heard some one say, were a picket line. About eleven o’clock they came out into the field, and they seemed to have spread themselves out behind a little rise or knoll in front of the house. Mammy’s teeth were just chattering, and she went to moaning and saying her prayers as hard as she could, and Evelyn’s mamma told her to take Evelyn down into the basement, and she would bring the baby; so mammy, who had been following mamma about, seized Evelyn, and rushed with her down-stairs, where, although they were quite safe, as the windows were only half above the ground, she fell on her face on the floor, praying as if her last hour had come. “Bop! bop!” went some muskets up behind the house. “Bang! bop! bang!” went some on the other side. Evelyn suddenly remembered Kittykin. “Where was she?” The last time she had seen her was a half-hour before, when she had been lying curled up on the back steps fast asleep in the sun. Suppose she should be there now, she would certainly be killed, for the back steps ran right out into the yard so as to be just the place for Kittykin to be shot. So thought Evelyn. “Bang! bang!” went the guns again--somewhere. Evelyn dragged a chair up to a window and looked. Her heart almost stopped; for there, out in the yard, quite clear of the houses, was Kittykin, standing some way up the trunk of a tall locust-tree, looking curiously around. Her little white body shone like a small patch of snow against the dark brown bark. Evelyn sprang down from the chair, and forgetting everything, rushed through the entry and out of doors. “Kitty, kitty, kitty!” she called. “Kittykin, come here! You’ll be killed! Come here, Kittykin!” Kittykin, however, was in for a game, and as her little mistress, with her golden hair flying in the breeze, ran toward her, she rushed scampering still higher up the tree. Evelyn could see that there were some men scattered out in the fields on either side of her, some of them stooping, and some lying down, and as she ran on toward the tree she heard a “Bang! bang!” on each side, and she saw little puffs of white smoke, and something went “Zoo-ee-ee” up in the air; but she did not think about herself, she was so frightened for Kittykin.