It was less than half a mile across; and occasionally a rifle ball fell near us, but the distance was too great for them to be effective. I looked through the trees and examined the hill with my glass, but could see nothing save the ridge of fresh-turned earth. Along the side of the hill were our sharpshooters watching the works. I could see them crawling up behind trees and stumps, sometimes dragging themselves along the ground, sometimes on their hands and knees. Their shots were frequent, and sounded as though a sporting party were below us. It was hard to believe that they were shooting at men. It was wonderful, too, how soon the mind accustomed itself to these strange circumstances. After the first half hour we took no more notice of the rifle shots than though some boys were there at play. Behind those earthworks were cannon as well as men. We were completely within range, and they could have sent their shot and shell amongst us at any time. The night before no fires had been allowed, as they would indicate our position to the rebels; but they were now burning, and around one of them three or four of us gathered to dine. As we sat down upon a log, we heard distant sounds of cannon along the river. "There go the gunboats; the fight has begun; they are shelling the rascals out," said everybody. We had taken for granted all the time, and, indeed, up to the last minute, that the gunboats would dismantle the fort, and that all we should have to do would be to prevent the escape of the rebels. In this we were much mistaken. The cannonade lasted an hour, and then stopped. We hoped the fort was taken, but no such news came to gladden us. In watching the earthworks, in talking and warming ourselves at the camp-fires, the afternoon wore away. Evening came, and it was determined to risk the fires. Again we sat down beside one for supper. It consisted of hard pilot-bread, raw pork and coffee. The coffee you probably would not recognize in New York. Boiled in an open kettle, and about the color of a brown stone front, it was nevertheless our greatest comfort, and the only warm thing we had. The pork was frozen, and the water in the canteens solid ice, so that we had to hold them over the fire when we wanted a drink. No one had plates or spoons, knives or forks, cups or saucers. We cut off the frozen pork with our pocket knives, and one tin cup, from which each took a drink in turn, served the coffee.