beyond the Osage River the advancing Federals, flushed with success and clamorous for more victims. I knew from the beginning that I could do nothing but resist their advance, delay them as much as possible, and depend on energy and night for the rest.

The first stand was made one mile north of the Osage River, where the enemy was worsted; again upon the river-bank, and again I got away in good condition. Then taking position on a high hill one mile south of the river, I halted for a desperate struggle. The enemy advanced in overwhelming numbers and with renewed confidence at the sight of the small force in front of them, for Captains Langhorne and Adams and Lieutenant-Colonel Nichols with their commands were ahead of the train on duty. The fight lasted nearly an hour, but I was at last forced to fall back.

Elliott, Gordon, Slayback, Hooper, Smith, Blackwell, Williams, and a host of other officers seemed to rise higher and higher as the danger increased, and were always where the tide of battle rolled deepest and darkest. It was an evening to try the hearts of my best and bravest, and rallying around me they even surpassed all former days of high and heroic bearing.

Pressed furiously, and having to cross a deep and treacherous stream, I did not offer battle again until gaining a large hill in front of the entire army, formed in line of battle, where I sent orders for Colonel Jackman to join me immediately. It was a fearful hour. The long and weary days of marching and fighting were culminating, and the narrow issue of life or death stood out all dark and barren as a rainy sea. The fight was to be made now, and General Price, with the pilot's wary eye, saw the storm-cloud sweep down, growing larger and larger and darker and darker. They came upon me steadily and calm. I waited until they came close enough and gave them volley for volley, shot for shot. For fifteen minutes both lines stood the pelting of the leaden hail without flinching, and the incessant roar of musketry rang out wildly and shrill, all separate sounds blending in a universal crash. The fate of the army hung upon the result, and our very existence tottered and tossed in the smoke of the strife. The red sun looked down upon the scene, and the redder clouds floated away with angry, sullen glare. Slowly, slowly my old brigade was melting away. The hightoned and chivalric Dobbin, formed on my right, stood by me in all that fiery storm, and Elliott's and Gordon's voices sounded high above the rage of the conflict: "My merry men, fight on."

All that men could do had been done. For five days and nights Thompson's and Slayback's commands had fought and marched and marched and fought, and now, under concentrated and accumulated fire of heavy odds, the left of General Thompson's brigade reeled back over the prairie, the Federals following with furious yells; but the right, under Colonel Elliott, met the advancing wave and broke their front line in every direction by charging furiously the rear of the enemy pressing hard after the left of Thompson's brigade.

Now Colonel Jackman, who had done his duty well in another part of the field, came rushing up to avenge his fallen comrades. Going into line at a gallop, and opening ranks to let the retreating brigade through, he charged down upon the rushing enemy like a thunderbolt, driving them back and scattering their front line badly. This charge saved us, and the day's work done. The Federals halted, reformed their lines, brought up artillery, and fired away at long range. Very slowly the army moved away without molestation, and darkness came