Frank accordingly ran below, and armed himself with a revolver and musket, and buckled on a cartridge-box. When the men were ready, he led the way, along the levee, so that, if the guerrillas were advancing, they would be certain to meet them. But they saw no signs of them until they came within sight of a barn which stood in the woods, about a mile from the river. The rebels were gathered before it, as if in consultation, and greeted the approach of the sailors with a scattering volley of musketry, which whistled harmlessly over their heads, or plowed up the ground before them. "Give 'em a shot, boys," said the executive officer, "and then scatter, and let each man take to a tree and fight Indian fashion." The sailors wheeled into line with all the promptness and regularity of veteran troops; and before the smoke of their muskets cleared away, they had disappeared, like a flock of young partridges. The rebels had also treed, and the skirmish was continued for half an hour, without any damage being done to either party. This style of fighting did not suit Frank, and he began to urge the executive officer to advance, and drive them from their position. But the officer did not think it safe to attempt it; for, although he had seen but a small number of the rebels, he did not know how many there might be hidden away in the bushes. "Well, then," said Frank, after thinking a moment, "I have another proposition to make. If you will give me ten men, and engage the rebels warmly in front, I'll go and get that fresh beef." "Where did you leave it?" inquired the officer. "In the woods, about three hundred yards to the left of where the rebels now are." "Very well; pick out your men, and go ahead." Frank accordingly selected the boatswain's mate, an old, gray-headed man, who had been in the navy from boyhood, as his first lieutenant, and ordered him to call for volunteers. If there is any thing a sailor admires, it is bravery in an officer. Every one on board the Ticonderoga, from the captain down, was acquainted with Frank's gallant behavior at Cypress Bend, although he himself had never said a word about it; and this, together with his uniform kindness toward the men under his command, and the respect he always showed his brother officers, had made him very popular with the ship's company; and when the mate--who was never better pleased than when he could do Frank a service-passed the word along the line that Mr. Nelson had called for volunteers, the men flocked around him in all directions. The mate quickly selected the required number, and Frank led them toward the place where they had left the beef.