By this time the column was under command of a captain, who had little difficulty in rallying them, and Dan heard a yell such as he had never heard before, the yell of charging cavalry, and he saw the body of men sweep on toward the bridge; but when they got there they saw the Union pickets far up the road. But they loaded their rifles as fast as they went, and when they turned around to fire at their pursuers some man was certain to go down. At last the captain who commanded the cavalry went over also, and this left Captain Cullom, who was the second in rank, in charge of the regiment.
“Forward!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “They are going on ahead to arouse the other men, and we must overtake them before they get there.”
Again that charging yell arose, and it was answered by yells equally as savage from the Union men, who turned and fired another volley at them. The ten miles that lay between them and Ellisville were quickly passed over, and by the time the pickets had arrived within sight of the camp there was not a man to be seen. The houses didn’t look as though there was anybody around them, but when they came nearer they found that every window was filled with sharpshooters. The church, too, was used as a barricade, and as it stood broadside to the road we can imagine that it must have been hot work for that column of cavalry to have stood against it. As they came opposite the hotel the door opened and Mr. Knight and Mr. Sprague stepped out.
“What is going on down the road?” asked the former.
“The rebs are coming!” shouted half a dozen voices. “They have got a whole regiment of cavalry with them. We hain’t lost a man.”
“You have done nobly,” said Mr. Sprague. “Go around behind the church-house and make your horses fast, and go in there. Be ready to shoot when you hear us.”
“This looks like a fight,” said one of the pickets, as they made their way into the church. “Boys, I laid out one traitor the first fire I had. It was that miserable Dan Newman.”
“And I made all haste to lay out the other one,” chimed in a second. “His brother, Cale Newman, was there, and Bob, here, shot the man’s horse, and I took particular aim at his head. I know I hit him, but I did not fix him. I saw him get up and go into the bushes.”
“Here they come!” said one of the sharp-shooters, who was keeping watch at one of the windows. “There is lots of them, ain’t they?”
“Yes, but it is going to take more than they have got to get away with us,” said one of the pickets. “If ten men can throw a column like that into confusion, they won’t stand long against the fire of five hundred.”