[Army Life in a Black Regiment by Thomas Wentworth Higginson]@TWC D-Link bookArmy Life in a Black Regiment CHAPTER 5 29/31
S'pose I fire my forty rounds.
I tink he hear at de camp and send more mans,"-- which seemed a reasonable presumption.
This soldier's name was Paul Jones, a daring fellow, quite worthy of his namesake. In time, however, they learned quieter methods, and would wade far out in the water, there standing motionless at last, hoping to surround and capture these floating boats, though, to their great disappointment, the prize usually proved empty.
On one occasion they tried a still profounder strategy; for an officer visiting the pickets after midnight, and hearing in the stillness a portentous snore from the end of the causeway (our most important station), straightway hurried to the point of danger, with wrath in his soul.
But the sergeant of the squad came out to meet him, imploring silence, and explaining that they had seen or suspected a boat hovering near, and were feigning sleep in order to lure and capture those who would entrap them. The one military performance at the picket station of which my men were utterly intolerant was an occasional flag of truce, for which this was the appointed locality.
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