Pea Ridge would seem to have been the scene of more barbaric fighting than any other battle of the war, when we include the performances of Texans and Indians; but in defense of the Texans it may be said that the bowie-knife is really no more barbaric a weapon than the sword in its mode of operation, whatever may be urged against the practice of carrying it habitually. The wounds described by the writer in the Richmond Whig could easily be attributed to a cavalry saber and nobody would think it out of the ordinary modes of warfare.
With the increase of civilization in Texas and the Southwest generally since the war the bowie-knife seems to have gone out of fashion. Little is heard of it nowadays, and as the state of Texas has a law imposing a heavy fine for the carrying of concealed weapons, it is probable that this famous implement will soon be forgotten altogether, and be seen only in museums by the side of the tomahawk and scalping-knife.
“Why is it called the bowie-knife?” a youthful reader asks.
It is so called after Colonel Bowie, its inventor. His name has clung to his knife just as that of Doctor Guillotin has adhered to the beheading machine which he designed, and that of Colonel Colt to his revolving pistol.
CHAPTER XXVII. THE FIGHTING NEAR ELKHORN TAVERN—HARRY'S EXPERIENCE UNDER FIRE.
Van Dorn's movements were delayed by the obstructions on the roads by which he moved. As soon as General Curtis became satisfied that the rebels were trying to get around to his rear, he ordered General Dodge, who commanded the fourth division of the army, to cut down trees along the road leading north from Bentonville, and the order was instantly carried out. General Dodge had been ill in his tent for three days, but when the news of the approaching enemy reached him he was cured as if by magic. Remarking that it was no time to be sick, he got out of bed, assumed the active command of his division, and during the afternoon of the sixth supervised the work of a large detail of men, who felled trees across the road and otherwise blocked it to delay the rebel advance. He kept at it until the rebel skirmishers began to fire upon his men, and as he had orders not to bring on an engagement he prudently withdrew.
“General Dodge was a trump,” said Harry afterwards, when telling the story of the battle; “sick in his tent and in the doctor's hands before the battle began, he was almost constantly in the saddle for three days. When the battle was over and the enemy had retreated, he dropped to the ground and went back to his sick-bed. It's a good example of what a man can do under excitement.”
“And there was another example of the same sort,” said Jack. “There was Major Post, of the Thirty-seventh Illinois who became General Philip Sidney Post, and served gallantly in a good many battles. Early on the second day at Pea Ridge he was wounded in the arm, but he kept his place with his regiment and would not stop to have his wound dressed. The surgeon insisted, but he would n't go. 'I can walk and give orders,' he said, 'even if I can't use my arm, and I'm going to stay here.' The colonel of his regiment had to order him to go to the field hospital. He went very reluctantly, as he wanted to see the battle fought out to the end, and was determined to do all he could toward winning it.”