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. They fought with an impetuosity which the enemy could not withstand, and a large portion of the latter justified their record for that day by running away. There were individual instances of bravery on the part of the foe; but, as a whole, the attack upon the Riverlawns was feeble and nerveless. It was fortunate for the entrapped platoon that it was not set upon by some other company of the Confederate cavalry, rather than one which had run away from the field of battle; for in that case they might all have been prisoners of war. Sergeant Knox remained at the head of the platoon, and after he had struck down with his powerful right arm two or three that confronted him, he was avoided by the enemy; but he continued to shout encouraging words to the men, who did not flinch a hair from the troopers that beset them in double their own numbers. "Now forward, my boys!" he cried, as he saw that the entrance was clear for the passage of the body. The men pressed on, upsetting the enemy in their path, though most of them had fallen back out of the reach of the sabres of the Riverlawns; and with this renewed effort they passed through the entrance and out of the intrenchments. But they had no sooner reached the outside of the works than they discovered the rest of the squadron in a fight at the foot of the first hill, with a whole regiment of Confederate cavalry. Captain Woodbine had occupied this hill at the beginning of the fight in this section, and on it Captain Ripley and his riflemen had been posted later. The two companies of the First Kentucky were moving forward; but there was not room enough for them to manoeuvre. As usual, the sharpshooters were making havoc in the ranks of the regiment, and the head of the column was falling back to escape the deadly rifle-balls. Life halted his platoon, and looked them over, puffing like a steam-engine from the violence of his excitement and the fury of his exertions to save the command. The prospect before him was not encouraging, for the enemy had some troops outside of the works. "Where is Leftenant Lyon?" demanded he of Corporal Tilford, as the latter rode up to him to give him information in regard to the officer in command of the platoon. "I am sorry to say we left him in the enemy's camp," replied the corporal. "Left him there!" exclaimed Life, with something like horror in his expression. "Was he wounded?" "Worse than that, I am afraid," answered his in
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