fell. One of his comrades started on a run to his
assistance, and he, too, was stopped. The third man then scampered away
as fast as his legs could carry him. The battalion applauded the good
shots and marched on.

At Sailor's Creek the detachment which had been left at Deatonsville,
behind the fence rails, to watch and retard the approach of the enemy,
having slowly retired before their advance, rejoined the command.
Indeed, their resistance and retreat was the beginning of and ended in
the battle of Sailor's Creek.

The line of battle was formed on Locket's Hill, which sloped gently down
from the line to the creek, about one hundred and fifty or two hundred
yards in rear of and running nearly parallel with the line of battle. A
road divided the battalion near the centre. The Howitzers were on the
left of this road and in the woods; Garber's men were on the right of
the Howitzers, on the opposite side of the road, in a field; Fry's men
on the extreme left. To cross the road dividing the line was a hazardous
experiment, as the enemy, thinking it an important avenue, swept it with
musketry.

[Illustration]

It was amusing to see the men hauling out of their pockets a mixture of
corn, salt, caps, and cartridges, and, selecting the material needed,
loading. They were getting ready to stand. They did not expect to run,
and did not until ordered to do so.

The enemy's skirmishers advanced confidently and in rather free and easy
style, but suddenly met a volley which drove them to cover. Again they
advanced, in better order, and again the improvised infantry forced them
back. Then came their line of battle with overwhelming numbers; but the
battalion stubbornly resisted their advance. The men, not accustomed to
the orderly manner of infantry, dodged about from tree to tree, and with
the deliberation of huntsmen picked off here and there a man. When a
shot "told," the marksman hurrahed, all to himself. There was an evident
desire to press forward and drive the advancing foe. Several of the men
were so enthusiastic that they had pushed ahead of the line, and several
yards in advance they could be seen loading and firing as deliberately
as though practicing at a mark.

Colonel Cutshaw received a wound which so shattered his leg that he had
to be lifted from his horse into an ambulance. He was near being
captured, but by hurrying away the ambulance at a gallop, he escaped to
a house a short distance in the rear, where he