They reached the edge of the field in time to see that the Yankees were on the other side of the stream. They knew them to be where puffs of smoke came out of the opposite wood. And the Confederates had stopped beyond the bridge, and were halted, in some confusion, in the field. The firing was very sharp, and bullets were singing in every direction. Then the Confederates got together, and went as hard as they could right at them up to the wood, all along the edge of which the smoke was pouring in continuous puffs and with a rattle of shots. They saw several horses fall as the Confederates galloped on, but the smoke hid most of it. Next they saw a long line of fire appear in the smoke on both sides of the road, where it entered the wood; then the Confederates stopped, and became all mixed up; a number of horses galloped away without their riders, another line of white and red flame came out of the woods, the Confederates began to come back, leaving many horses on the ground, and a body of cavalry in blue coats poured out of the wood in pursuit. "Look! look! They are running--they are beating our men!" exclaimed the boys. "They have driven 'em back across the bridge!" "How many of them there are!" "What shall we do? Suppose they see us!" "Come on, Mah'srs Frank 'n' Willy, let's go home," said the colored boys. "They'll shoot us." The fight was now in the woods which lay between the boys and their home. But just then the gray-coats got together, again turned at the edge of the wood, and dashed back on their pursuers, and--the smoke and bushes on the stream hid everything. In a second more both emerged on the other side of the smoke and went into the woods on the further edge of the field, all in confusion, and leaving on the ground more horses and men than before. "What's them things 'zip-zippin' 'round my ears?" asked one of the negro boys. "Bullets," said Frank, proud of his knowledge. "Will they hurt me if they hit me?" [Illustration: "LOOK! LOOK! THEY ARE RUNNING! THEY ARE BEATING OUR MEN!" EXCLAIMED THE BOYS.] "Of course they will. They'll kill you." "I'm gwine home," said the boy, and off he started at a trot. "Hold on!--We're goin', too; but let's go down this way; this is the best way." They went along the edge of the field, toward the point in the road where the skirmish had been and where the Confederates had rallied. They stopped to listen to the popping in the woods on the other side, and were just saying how glad they were that "our men had whipped them," when a soldier came along. "What in the name of goodness are you boys doing here?" he asked. "We're just looking on an' lis'ning," answered the boys meekly. "Well, you'd better be getting home as fast as you can. They are too strong for us, and they'll be driving us back directly, and some of you may get killed or run over." This was dreadful! Such an idea had never occurred to the boys. A panic took possession of them.