There seemed to be some fatal attraction about that long line of moving men, with burnished arms and glittering bayonets, to poor Joe. He had not gone a dozen rods before he paused to look back at them. Tramp, tramp, tramp, they went, on and on, and he looked till his weak mind became all confused with wonder. As the dangerous reptile chains the bird it seeks to destroy, and draws it involuntarily to its death, so poor Joe felt involuntarily drawn towards that moving line of gray coats and glittering steel. Who were they? Where were they going? When would that long line end? They kept passing, passing, passing, so many men, and so much alike, that poor Joe finally concluded it must be only one man, doomed for some misdeed to walk on, and on, and on forever, never advancing on his endless journey. Joe forgot Howard Jones and Seth Williams, and, pausing, gazed on in mute wonder. But the main body had at length passed. Then the line became broken, and only straggling groups of horsemen and footmen went by; then these finally came at longer intervals, but in larger groups. Joe thought the end must be near. The rear guard of the Confederates paused in front of Uncle Dan's cabin, to check the advance guard of Major Fleming. "Halt!" cried the officer. "Deploy skirmishers and the advance." "They're almost upon us, lieutenant," said a subordinate officer, riding in from the woods. "Let 'em come," said the first speaker. "Take shelter behind trees or rocks, and make sure of every head that peeps out of the woods." The men, about fifty in number, sprang to cover. The officer in command, chancing to look around, saw Crazy Joe, still spell-bound with wonder. "Hey, fellow," he cried, "what are you doing there?" "Nothing," said Joe. "Well, then, come here and I'll give you something to do." Joe obeyed. One look in his face was enough to betray the poor fellow's weakness. The lieutenant knew that he was crazy, but, reckless of what the poor fellow's fate might be, he pointed to the musket Joe had laid on the rocks, and said: "Pick that up, get behind those rocks, and when I say 'Fire!' shoot at the men you see coming from those trees." Joe knew nothing else to do, but obey, little dreaming of the dread consequences that were to follow. "What do you expect that crazy chap to do?" asked a soldier, as he rammed a ball down his rifle. "He can shoot, and his bullet may strike a blue coat." "Brace up and look more soldier-like," said one. "Who greased yer hat?" asked another. "When was yer hair cut?" put in a third. "What ye got in the pockets of that great coat?" said another. "Attention!" cried the lieutenant. "Here comes the enemy. Steady! Be sure of your aim, and fire only when you have it."