At this
crisis, Scoville's horse was shot and fell, dragging his rider down
also. A flash of lightning revealed the mishap to Mad Whately, who
secured the capture of the Union officer before he could extricate
himself.
By a sort of mutual consent the contending forces drew apart.
Prisoners had been taken on both sides, and Whately, who had badly
sprained his arm, unfitting himself for active duty, was given
charge of those secured by the Confederates.
General Marston withdrew the Union forces to the ridge again. He was
satisfied that prudence required rapid progress toward his somewhat
distant destination. True, he had severely checked his foes, but he
knew that they had reinforcements near, while he had not. He deeply
regretted Scoville's absence and possible death, but he had the map,
and the men who had been out with the scout were acquainted with the
selected road. Therefore, as soon as the violence of the storm
abated and the moon shed a faint radiance through the murky clouds,
he renewed his march as rapidly as the rain-soaked ground permitted.
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