68 HENRY HILL GOODELL 



the besieged from falling asleep and stir them up occa- 

 sionally. Then pop goes a rebel; anon some white-eyed 

 ebony "t'inks he sees suffin' moving on dat ar hill," and ac- 

 cordingly lets drive; or perchance some red-breeched Zou- 

 ave, spying a mule wandering round in the fortifications, 

 swears by the beard of Mahomet he '11 spoil the rebel beef, 

 and forthwith downs the critter. Noon. The music is be- 

 coming lively, the gun-boats are walking in and the batteries 

 are pitching in, and altogether we are giving them "Hail 

 Columbia," to the tune of "Yankee Doodle." 



For the last fortnight we have been in an enviable frame 

 of mind expecting each day to be ordered the next to par- 

 ticipate in another general assault, but the orders have not 

 come and each night we have drawn a long breath and said 

 one more day of grace. "Very improper, Jane!" Well so 

 it is, but while we are sp'iling for a fight we have a singular 

 desire to avoid charging on the breastworks. We've seen 

 the elephant, some of us four times, and each time have got 

 bitten. On the 1st General Banks made us a stunning 

 speech, assuring us that within three days Port Hudson 

 should be ours; but the three days have waxed and waned 

 and those confounded rebels still persist in keeping us out 

 in the cold (a figure of speech, as it is the dog-days with a 

 vengeance). There is no mistake about it; the rebs are 

 mighty short off for provisions, and though the fortifi- 

 cations could probably now be stormed any day, yet why 

 waste life when a few days will fetch the recreants to their 

 milk? They are reduced now to mule-meat and a little 

 corn. Deserters come in thick and fast. One day as many 

 as a hundred came over, vowing they could n't stand mule- 

 meat. I feel confident in my next of being able to take up the 



