University of Virginia Library

97. An Unfortunate Cow
By FRANC B. WILKIE (1862)

IT was a siege of intolerable length, and without any variety to break the everlasting monotony. During the weeks that we were there, there was but one event that increased the pulsation of my blood. The wooden gunboat Conestoga lay well up the river just out of the range of the batteries, There were several ammunition boats in the vicinity, which it was our duty to guard nights. During the day, the Conestoga would drop out into the stream and down till within range, and then add her voice to the thunderous concert.

This vessel and the ammunition boats at night were laid up on the west, or Arkansas shore. Between us and the shore there was a swamp densely covered with cane, so that access to the boats by land was impossible. One night, about eleven o'clock, when everybody save those on duty had turned into their hammocks, the solemn stillness was suddenly broken by a hail from the deck,—"Who goes there?"—followed almost instantly by the report of a musket, and scarcely a second later by the roar of our larboard guns. The next moment I rushed out of the cabin on deck. It was as dark as Erebus. The whistle of the boatswain was calling the men to their places, and there was a rush of flying feet. There were the creaking of tackle, and then the flash and roar of the larboard guns of the Conestoga, as they blazed away into the woods and the darkness. Down the stream in the density of night, activity was noticeable among the twinkling lights of the fleet. Signal rockets flashed athwart the gloom; and soon the quick pulsations of a steam-tug added its voice to the clamor.

It was tremendously exciting for a few moments. I could see no enemy; grape went crashing through the cane and trees and splashing into the water. In the obscurity all I could see that was human on the deck, when a flash from the guns lighted up the scene, was one of the ship boys—a sucking tar of about twelve years of age apparently—who was standing within the taffrail and blazing into the timber with a revolver as fast as he could cock it and pull the trigger. A tug came alongside from the fleet, and an officer climbed up on deck with a lantern. He disappeared down the gun deck, and a little later the firing ceased.

The report of the sentinel was to the effect that he heard something splashing through the water, and had challenged it, and receiving no answer had fired off his musket. Some boats were lowered and an exploration was made of the vicinity, but nothing whatever was discovered. When daylight came, amid the torn canes lay the body of a cow, or portions of a

cow, for she had been riddled with a charge of grape. It was she, that, wading through the water, had excited the challenge and alarm of the sentinel, the fierce resistance of the gallant Conestoga, and a commotion which affected the entire fleet.