The boat struck; her bottom grating hard on the wet sand.
"Great God! she's on a bar," cried Coolidge, "and the tide's running out, fast." "Yes, and them damned rebs are safe enough from _our_ fire," said one of the men.
A few scattering shot fell about them.
"They're going to make their mark on us, anyway," put in another.
"And we can't send 'em anything in return, blast 'em!" growled a third.
"That's the worst of it," broke out a fourth, "to be shot at like a rat in a hole." All said in a breath, and the balls by this time falling thick and fast,--a fiery, awful rain of death.

The men were no cowards, and the captain was brave enough; but what could they do?
To stand up was but to make figure-heads at which the concealed enemy could fire with ghastly certainty; to fire in return was to waste their ammunition in the air.
The men flung themselves face foremost on the deck, silent and watchful.
Through it all Jim had been sitting crouched over his oar.

He, unarmed, could not have fought had the chance offered; breaking out, once and again, into the solemn-sounding chant which he had been singing when he came up in his boat the evening before:-- "O my soul arise in heaven, Lord, for to yearde when Jordan roll, Roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll Jordan, roll,"-- the words falling in with the sound of the water as it lapsed from them.
"Stop that infernal noise, will you ?" cried one of the men, impatiently.
The noise stopped.
"Hush, Harry,--don't swear!" expostulated another, beside whom was lying a man mortally wounded.

"This is awful! 'tain't like going in fair and square, on your chance." "That's so,--it's enough to make a fellow pray," was the answer.
Here Russell, putting up his hand, took hold of Jim's brawny black one with a gesture gentle as a woman's.

It hurt him to hear his faithful friend even spoken to harshly.