A minnie ball whistled right by my head.
I don't think it missed me an eighth of an inch.

Tom had sat down on an old chunk of wood, and just as he took his seat, zip! a ball took the chunk of wood.

Tom picked it up and began laughing at our tight place.
Happening to glance up towards the tree tops, I saw a smoke rising above a tree, and about the same time I saw a Yankee peep from behind the tree, up among the bushes.

I quickly called Tom's attention to it, and pointed out the place.

We could see his ramrod as he handled it while loading his gun; saw him raise his gun, as we thought, to put a cap on it.
Tom in the meantime had lain flat on his belly and placed his gun across the chunk he had been sitting on.