I was sure that it was a Yankee picket.

What was I to do?
The relief was several hundred yards in the rear.

The more I looked the more sure I was.
At last a cold sweat broke out all over my body.

Turkey bumps rose.
I summoned all the nerves and bravery that I could command, and said: "Halt! who goes there ?" There being no response, I became resolute.
I did not wish to fire and arouse the camp, but I marched right up to it and stuck my bayonet through and through it.

It was a stump.