fell back and remained in the rear for the rest of the day.  Slowly the line moved forward, stumbling along over rocks, but keeping in perfect order of battle.  Soon several shots were heard on the extreme right.  It was daylight, and someone called that the Indians were escaping around Perry’s right.  Up to this time I had been with General Wheaton in the rear, but ran out to the line in time to see the Indians in our front leaping from rock to rock about five hundred yards away.  The fog had lifted and a clear day was promised.  I jumped upon a lava wave and waited for them to stop to get a shot.  Instantly a bullet sang over my head, but thinking they were shooting at me from that distance paid no attention, but continued watching the leaping red devils.  In about the time that is required to throw in a cartridge and take aim, another bullet went by, but it hissed this time and raised the hair on one side of my head.  Still thinking that they were shooting at me from a long distance, I dropped on my knee with rifle to shoulder.  Instantly the red devil, with sage brush tied round his head raised up about ninety yards from me and again fired.  I only caught a glimpse of him as he made a few zig zag leaps among the rocks and disappeared.  I fired at random but failed to wing my game.  That taught a rash, presumptuous young fool a lesson, and he contented himself for the balance of the day imitating the men in the line, and keeping well under cover.

“Forward on the line” was ever the command and by 12 o’clock we had driven the Indians through the rocks several miles.  Presently word came down the line that the volunteers could not be found.  I started up the line when General Wheaton called to me to come back.  Returning he directed me to give that order to Donald McKay.  It was fortunate for me that I was called back, otherwise I should have gone in behind the “juniper fort,” a strong fort built around a stunted juniper tree, and standing on a high point of lava.  I gave the order to McKay who was riding a small pony, and he had proceeded but a short distance when the Indians opened on him from the fort and killed his pony.  Some one remarked that “the volunteers are firing on McKay,” as the shooting was considerably in the rear and to the right.  We all ran up on a point when half a dozen bullets came singing around us.  For once in my life I was glad as I distinctly saw Col.  John Green dodge.  He was an old soldier and had probably been in more battles than any man in the army and to see him dodge from bullets was salve to my pride.

A few minutes later we heard a yell to the right and rear as Kelley’s and Applegate’s men found the fort and charged it on the run.  It transpired that it was Mason’s line that had given way and the volunteers, feeling their way, had found the fort and taken it.  But they lost two men, Frank Trimble and a man named Brown of Kelley’s command.  Lieutenant Evan Ream of Kelley’s company, was also wounded, but he, refused to leave the line after