t galloped to the front.

Ceph, his horse, began to put his education into practice, and stood up
on his hind feet before the first trooper that came in front of him. At
that moment the lieutenant cleaved the skull of the man in twain. The
enemy did not fight like the Texan Rangers with whom the young officer
had been pitted before. In fact, they fell back, and began to use their
pistols. One of the Riverlawns dropped from his steed with his face
covered with blood.

The lieutenant saw with intense regret that this man was Sergeant
Fronklyn; but he was apparently only stunned partially by the bullet,
for he sprang to his feet with the aid of a comrade, though his horse
had gone with the forward movement of the platoon, and was out of his
reach. At about the same moment the second lieutenant of the Southern
company, who was a gigantic Tennesseean, led his platoon to the left of
the Riverlawns, and pushed on towards their front.

This big fellow was a brave man, whatever might be said of the greater
portion of his comrades, and had his eye on Deck, who had just brought
his sabre down upon the trooper whose head he had split in twain. The
Southron dashed up to him, and levelled a blow with his weapon at the
head of the young officer, just as the latter was turning to confront
the enemy in his rear. This movement evidently disturbed the aim of the
lieutenant, and turned the sabre in his hand.

But the blow came down with the flat side of the blade upon Deck's
head. It stunned him, and his brain whirled. He dropped from Ceph, just
as that intelligent animal rose again on his hind feet to confront the
new enemy; but there was no one in the saddle to strike the blow that
might have killed or disabled the giant who had done the mischief to
the intrepid young officer. Corporal Tilford, who was a powerful man,
dashed his horse against the Tennessee lieutenant, and struck him in
the rear, just as the latter had done to Deck. His aim was better, and
he did not permit the hilt to turn in his hand, and the giant finished
his earthly career there.

Sergeant Fronklyn, though wounded himself, had strength enough to drag
his officer to one side of the platoon, so that his form might not be
crushed by the advance of horses' feet. The troopers had seen the fall
of the lieutenant, and naturally enough, supposing that he was killed,
were excited to new fury by the disaster, and rushed upon the enemy,
who were crowding them on both sides