While busily occupied in the very indispensable operation of breaking
their fast, our adventurers were startled with the sound of distant
firearms. At first a few scattering shots were fired, which were
succeeded by a long and animated roll of musketry, and then quick and
heavy volleys followed each other.
"Your prophecy is made good," cried the English officer, springing upon
his feet. "Our troops and the rebels are at it! I would give six months'
pay to see the charge."
"Umph!" returned his companion, without ceasing his meal, "they do very
well to look at from a distance; I can't say but the company of this
bacon, cold as it is, is more to my taste, just now, than a hot fire
from the continentals."
"The discharges are heavy for so small a force; but the fire seems
irregular."
"The scattering guns are from the Connecticut militia," said Harvey,
raising his head to listen; "they rattle it off finely, and are no fools
at a mark. The volleys are the rig'lars, who, you know, fire by word--as
long as they can."
"I like not the warmth of what you call a scattering fire," exclaimed
the captain, moving about with uneasiness; "it is more like the roll of
a drum than skirmishers' shooting."
"No, no; I said not skrimmagers," returned the other, raising himself
upon a knee, and ceasing to eat; "so long as they stand, they are too
good for the best troops in the royal army.
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