A little beyond the ferry-house
I met an Indian with a double shotgun; he gave me the contents of both
barrels, which struck the sand in the road at my feet; he was excited,
I suppose, as well as my self. We both commenced loading; he had both
barrels loaded as I rammed my cartridge home. A gun barrel then came up
under my left arm. Supposing it to be an Indian in my rear about to use
his hatchet, I did not turn to see how it was to be done; the gun went
off and the Indian fell and the road was clear once more. Young James
Dunn of Chatfield, afterward killed at Nashville, spoke up and said,
"Is your gun loaded?" "Yes, as soon as I can cap it." He said, "You
lead, my gun is empty." We went about three hundred feet farther, and 5
Indians jumped into the road from the grass. We then turned off to the
south, in hopes to find an opening, but they bore down on us, and
others joined them, and we were pressed or crowded to the south and
west in a kind of circle, until we reached the thicket just below the
ferry. This thicket, at that time, varied from one rod to ten in width,
and ran along the edge of the river about one mile to nearly opposite
the Faribault house, where it ended in an open bottom beyond. When we
entered it we found Captain Marsh and 11 men had reached it before us.
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