Hitherto Louis had known the race by their tenderness and compassion,
but the war gave him an opportunity to become acquainted with men brave
to do, brave to dare, and brave to die.
A colored man was the hero of one of the most tender, touching, and
tragic incidents of the war. A number of soldiers were in a boat exposed
to the fire of the rebels; on board was a colored man who had not
enrolled as a soldier, though his soul was full of sublime valor. The
bullets hissed and split the water, and the rowers tried to get out of
their reach, but all their efforts were in vain; the treacherous mud had
caught the boat, and some one must peril life and limb to shove that
boat into the water. And this man, the member of a doomed, a fated race,
who had been trodden down for ages, comprehending the danger, said,
"Some one must die to get us out of this, and it mout's well be me as
anybody; you are soldiers, and you can fight. If they kill me it is
nothing."
And with these words he arose, gave the boat a push, received a number
of bullets, and died within two days after.
Louis acquitted himself bravely, and rapidly rose in favor with his
superior officers. To him the place of danger was the post of duty.
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