What Frank’s feelings were, we will not attempt to say.  He was not a coward, for we once saw him alone in the forest, standing face to face with a wounded wild-cat, with no weapon in his hands but an ax; but fighting a wild-cat and a rebel sharp-shooter were two widely different things.  He had never heard the whistle of a hostile bullet, nor had he ever seen a rebel; and it is not to be wondered at, if his feelings were not of the most enviable nature.  But he was not one to shrink from his duty because it was dangerous; and he drew on his clothes as quickly as possible, and seizing a musket and cartridge-box that stood in a rack close by the cabin door, he hurried aft, where he found Woods concealed behind the port wheel-house, and the corporal behind a chicken-coop.  They both held their guns in readiness, and were peering into the woods, as if trying to pierce the thick darkness that enshrouded them.  The Illinois was tied up close to the bank, which, as the water in the river was low, was about thirty feet in hight; and as the moon was shining very brightly, a person hidden in the bushes could distinctly see every thing on deck.

“Keep close there,” said Woods, as Frank came up.  “The corporal says he saw some guerrillas on the bank.”

Frank accordingly concealed himself behind a stanchion, and his hand trembled considerably as he cocked his musket and brought it to his shoulder.  They remained in this position for nearly a quarter of an hour, when, suddenly, something stirred in the bushes.

“There they are,” whispered the corporal, drawing himself entirely out of sight, behind the chicken-coop.  “Look out, they’ll shoot in a moment.”

Frank kept a close watch on the bushes, and presently discovered a white object moving about among them.

“I see something, boys,” he said; “but it don’t look to me like a man.”

“Yes, it is a man,” exclaimed the corporal, excitedly.  “Shoot him.”

In obedience to the order, Frank raised his gun to his shoulder, and an ounce ball and a couple of buckshot went crashing through the bushes.  The commotion increased for a moment, and then ceased, and something that sounded very much like a groan issued from the woods.

“By gracious, you hit one of them,” exclaimed the corporal.  “That was a good shot.  We’ll teach these rebs that it isn’t healthy to go prowling about here at night.”

Frank hastily reloaded his musket, and they waited, impatiently, for nearly an hour, for the other guerrilla to show himself, but the woods remained as silent as death.

“I guess that shot finished them,” said the corporal; “so I will go and turn in.  Keep a good look-out,” he added, turning to Frank, “and don’t expose yourself too much.”