The action over, the heavy artillery came up, in the person of the Long Doctor with the blunderbuss.
"Where are they?" he cried, out of breath.
"A mile or two h'off, by this time," replied the Cockney. "Lord, Paul I you ought to've sent an 'ailstone into that little black 'un."
While excusing my want of skill, as well as I could, Zeke, rushing forward, suddenly exclaimed, "Creation! what are you 'bout there, Peter?"
Peter, incensed at our ill luck, and ignorantly imputing it to the cowardice of our native auxiliaries, was bringing his piece to bear upon his trembling squire--the musket-carrier--now descending a tree.
Pulling trigger, the bullet went high over his head; and, hopping to the ground, bellowing like a calf, the fellow ran away as fast as his heels could carry him. The rest
