Through some rare providence of
God, they chanced to strike the banks at a spot where the river proved
fordable. They plunged headlong in, officers and men commingled, the
Indian bullets churning up the water on every side; they struggled
madly through, and spurred their horses up the steep ridge beyond. A
few cool-headed veterans halted at the edge of the bank to defend the
passage; but the majority, crazed by panic and forgetful of all
discipline, raced frantically for the summit. Dr. De Wolf stood at the
very water's edge firing until shot down; McIntosh, striving vainly to
rally his demoralized men, sank with a bullet in his brain; Hodgson,
his leg broken by a ball, clung to a sergeant's stirrup until a second
shot stretched him dead upon the bank. The loss in that wild retreat
(which Reno later called a "charge") was heavy, the effect
demoralizing; but those who escaped found a spot well suited for
defence. Even as they swung down from off their wounded, panting
horses, and flung themselves flat upon their faces to sweep with
hastily levelled carbines the river banks below, Benteen came trotting
gallantly down the valley to their aid, his troopers fresh and eager to
be thrown forward on the firing-line.
Pages:
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405