It was a disordered and downcast company of about fifty who were left.
A few of these were wounded, but not badly enough to be disabled.
Colonel Winchester's own head had been grazed, but he had bound a
handkerchief about it, and sat very quiet in his saddle.
"My lads," he said, and his tone was sharp with the note of defiance.
"We have been surprised by a force greatly superior to our own, and
scarcely a sixth of us are left. But it was my fault. I take the
blame. For the present, at least, we are safe from the enemy, and
I intend to continue with our errand. We were to scout the country
all the way to Nashville. It is also possible that we will meet the
division of General Buell advancing to that city. Now, lads, I hope
that you all will be willing to go on with me. Are you?"
"We are!" roared fifty together, and a smile passed over the wan face
of the colonel. But he said no more then. Instead he turned his head
toward the capital city of the state, and rode until dawn, his men
following close behind him. The boys were weary. In truth, all of them
were, but no one spoke of halting or complained in any manner.
At sunrise they stopped in dense forest at the banks of a creek, and
watered their horses. They cooked what food they had left, and after
eating rested for several hours on the ground, most of them going to
sleep, while a few men kept a vigilant watch.
When Dick awoke it was nearly noon, and he still felt sore from his
exertions.
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