He reached the firing-line, strung along the ragged bluffs, and hiding behind trees, stumps and stones. "Lay down, there, old man; grab a root; keep under cover, or you'll git hit," some of them called out to him, noticing him as they turned to load. "The air is so full o' bullets you kin ketch your hat full if you only hold it up." "All right, boys, I'll lay low. I've come down here to help you," answered the Deacon. "Bully for you; we need it." The Deacon took his position behind a big black walnut, while he reconnoitered the situation, and got his bearings on the clump of willows. He felt surer than ever of his man, for he actually saw a puff of smoke come from it, and saw that right behind the puff stood a willow that had grown to the proportions of a small tree, and had its bark rubbed off by the chafing of driftwood against it. "He's right behind that peeled wilier," the Deacon said, "and takes a rest agin it. Three inches to the left o' that, and three foot from the ground'll take him square in the breast, as he is probably kneeling down." Before him he noticed a deep gully cut in the bank, by which he could get down to the water's edge where there was a clump of paw-paws projecting out toward the willows. If he went down there it would make his shot surer, but there was much danger that he would be noticed and fired at on his way. "I'm goin' down there," he said, after a moment's deliberation. "Providence has sent me on this job, and intends I shall do it right, which I kin by goin' down there. Providence'll take care o' me while I'm goin'. Same time, Providence expects me to show gumption, by not exposin' myself any more'n possible." Therefore he cut a young, thick-branched cedar and held it in front of him as he crouched and made his way to the gully and down it. He had nearly reached the cover of the paw-paws, and was beginning to congratulate himself that his cedar screen and the turmoil on the bank above had enabled him to escape attention, when a bullet struck a stone to his left, and threw it against him with such force as to almost knock all the breath out of his body. He fell to the ground, but retained coolness enough to understand that this was to his advantage, and he crawled slowly forward until he was safely behind the bushes. "That come from that hound in the willers," said he to himself. "He's a sharp one. He got on to me somehow, and now it's me and him fur it. Anyhow, he didn't kill a mule worth $150 with that bullet. But it'll take as much as six bits' worth o' porous plaster to take the swellin' out o' my side where that rock welted me."