Mower had ridden forward to
the
skirmish line—no lover more impatient for his mistress than
Mower for
war's troubles. The 5th Minnesota half-breeds (Hubbard's
Indians) with
the prudence of the white man and the sagacity of the Indian
were ideal
skirmishers and a portion of them were upon the skirmish
line with the
47th and here was likely to
be trouble to Mower's taste. As the enemy advanced the
skirmish line
was driven back. Mower's horse was shot under him and he
was made a
prisoner. On came the Confederate lines only to be met by
a cross fire
from the Union batteries. The fight raged for a half hour
when Van Dorn
was sent whirling back. A rider, bare-headed, spurring his
horse at
furious pace, burst from the woods through the line of
gray straight
for the Union lines. From the wood blazed an hundred
rifles. The rider
reeled for a moment in his saddle, then righted himself
and spurred
onward. He had been shot in the neck. As he neared the
lines he was
recognized; it was Mower. In the confusion of retreat he
had seized the
horse of a Confederate officer and, springing into the
saddle, made for
the National lines. Cheer followed cheer along the whole
line. The
"Eagle Brigade" was wild with joy. [pp. 61-62]
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