were running away, and the handle of a cross-cut saw had got into such a position that it played on the spokes of a wheel, which had the effect to make the horses perfectly frantic with fright. They shot past our front like a rocket.

After this had subsided, Company C, who were deployed as skirmishers, down by the banks of the Bayou, commenced discharging their rifles at the opposite bank, but no responsive shots coming back, they ceased. In a few minutes a large cotton-gin building near by caught fire. The soldiers had been carrying cotton away from it to make beds, and some one with a lighted match probably by accident, ignited the dry fibre. In less time than it takes to tell it the big building was a roaring bonfire. The exciting events of the evening began to look a little portentious [sic] to us. The last incident had lighted up the country and revealed every bivouac of our men with a half mile.

The night air was damp and chilly and a thick fog hung close to the earth. On the morning of the 28th, when it was sufficiently light to discern objects a few rods distant, the opposing pickets opened fire at each other, and some entrenched artillery of ours in advance of our regiment, put in a shot once in a while. Mounted orderlies and staff officers dashed briskly about carrying orders, and presently the 16th was called to attention, and marched by the flank, four abreast, out past the advance pickets, who were lying flat on the ground or crouched behind such obstacles as would protect the body. Strange as it may seem all firing ceased when we made our appearance on the dangerous ground. The pulse of the timid beat quicker, but the 16th moved solidly and resolutely, and strictly obeyed their commanding officer, Lieut. Col. Phillip Kershner, who was mounted and rode at the head of the column. When we had well cleared our picket's front, we filed to the right, and formed line in gigantic burrweed, that was very annoying as the dry hard burrs came loose from the stalk at the touch, and stuck tenaci-

ously to our woolen clothing. Less than a hundred yards from our line, in front, was a forest of heavy timber. The wide-spreading branches were festooned with moss. The foe in numbers, unknown to us, were crouching beneath the canopy. Why they did not fire at us was a mystery, but we were not destined to wait long. Soon the order was given to commence firing from the right of sections. The boys obeyed deliberately and with coolness. As soon as we commenced the rebels replied with vigor. A part of Lamphere's 7th Michigan Battery galloped into position, on our left, and took a hand in the action. The rapid firing soon produced at thick smoke, that, while it lingered around us, rendered objects indistinct a short distance off. The cannoniers, first distinctly outlined, soon looked like spectres in the sulphurous fog. The thumping sound of the field pieces, as they sent their iron bolts into the forest, with the rattling musketry fire, soon produced that partial deafness that all soldiers experience that pass through the ordeal of noisy battle. Other troops came up and joined in, and as the air became lighter, the smoke ascended revealing the pugnacious Yankee invader at his spiteful, deadly work. A part of the 16th was relieved by another regiment. Retiring a short distance they were ordered to lie down. Several here were struck by the enemy's balls, but none seriously hurt. Lieutenant Boling, of Company B, got a rap on the breast that made him feel sick and might have been worse but for his leather shoulder belt that cushioned the bullet. Ben Pursell, of the same Company, was struck on the arm by a spent ball. In the shifting of the position of the troops, a small part of our regiment was thrown forward as skirmishers, and the balance of the companies, formed in column of divisions, acted as a support.