Dick made his way back to Colonel Winchester, who was still in the clump of trees, a central point, from which he could direct the defense.  The colonel, as Dick clearly saw, felt chagrin.  While they had prevented the stampede of the horses, and were holding off Slade and Skelly, the roles which he had intended for the forces to play were reversed.  They had come forth to destroy the guerrillas, and now they had to fight hard to keep the guerrillas from destroying them.  Despite their shelter, about fifteen of the Winchester men had been slain, and perhaps twenty-five wounded, a loss over which the colonel grieved.  Doubtless as many of the guerrillas had fallen or had been hurt, but that was a poor consolation.

It was obvious too that Slade and Skelly were handling their forces with much skill, utilizing for shelter every bush and dwarfed tree on the slopes, and never exposing themselves, except for a moment or two.  Had there not been so many sharpshooters among the Winchester men they might have escaped almost without any damage, but for some of the deadly riflemen in the valley a single glimpse was enough.  Nevertheless Colonel Winchester’s dissatisfaction remained.  He felt that a force such as his, which had come forth to do so much, should do it, and he ransacked his brain for a plan.

“Mr. Reed,” he said to the mountaineer, who had remained with him, “do you think we could send a detachment through the pass down the stream and take them in the rear?  That is, this force might climb the slopes behind them, and attack from above?”

The mountaineer chewed his tobacco thoughtfully, looked up at the ridges, and then at the gorge down which they could hear the waters of the little creek rushing.

“It’s a big risk,” he replied, “but I ’low it kin be done, though you’ll hev to pick your men, colonel.  You let me be guide and be shore to send the sergeant, ‘cause he’s a full fo’-hoss team all by hisself.  An’ Mr. Shepard ought to go along too.  All the others ought to be youngsters, an’ spose you let Mr. Mason here lead ’em.”

Colonel Winchester did not resent at all these suggestions, which he knew to be excellent, and, while at first, for personal reasons of his own, he hesitated about sending Dick on so perilous an errand, he knew that he was better fitted for it than any other young officer in his command, and so he chose him.  The plan, too, appealed to him strongly.  He had taken lessons from the grand tactics of Lee and Jackson.  Lee would keep up a great demonstration in front, while Jackson, circling in silence, would strike a tremendous and deadly blow on the flank.  The longer he thought about it the more he was pleased with it.  If the flanking force could cut through the gorge the prospect of success was good, and fortunately the night had turned darker, the snow clouds reappearing.

The colonel picked one hundred and fifty of his best men, with Shepard, Reed and Whitley to guide, and Dick to lead them.  Warner and Pennington protested when they were not allowed to go, but the colonel quieted them with the assurance that they would soon have plenty of dangerous work to do in the valley.  To Dick he said gravely: