The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1894-05-03

and his mind was greatly relieved. In
her fall, as was afterward known, the
woman's head struck a stone, and the
skull was fractured. When she strug-
gled up, she was no longer sane. She
had been wandering through the forest
for hours before she appeared on the
battlefield, but she encountered no one
and found no shelter Never was there
a more gallant deed than that performed
by Steve Brayton, and never was hero
more heartily applauded by friend and
foe. He galloped his horse straight at
the woman, and rs he came up to her
he leaned over in the saddle, caught her
with both hands, and next instant she
was on the saddle bef6re him, and tho
horse was flying back to the Federal
lines. The woman fought and screamed,
and fragments of bursting shell whizzed
and whiIred around and above horses
and riders, but they dashed into the
lines unhurt, and the gallant Iescuer
was directed to continue down the road
until the woman could be placed beyond
danger.
Turn quick to the southl You will
never see grander spectacle than this.
The Confederate command, divided into
three divisions, with double lines dressed
as if on parade, has received tho order
to advance. They had waited for Custer
to charge, but the chevalier was also a
strategist. His artillery, being better
served, was creating the most havoc,
and no could afford to delay. Look
Look! As the gray horsomen begin to
move Clusters guns, which have been
grouped in front Of his center, timber
up and move at a gallop-four Of them
two to tho right and two TO the left.
In three minutes they are on his flanks
and loaded with grapeshot and canister
The Confederate battery does not follow
the example, and as the horscmen move
forward the guns arc useless.
"Trot! Gallop! Charge!"
You hear the buglcs sound the order,
and you see 1000 sabers flash in the
sunset as 1900 hOrscmcn thunder over
the plain. Give them credit for bravery
even TO recklessness. Before the horses
are off a-trot the murderous grapcshot
are knocking them down by dozens, and
rs the artilerists change 10 canister
1000 Federal carbines also open fire.
Rally! Reform, Forward
Above the roar Of cannon and mus
kctry You can catch tho notes Of the
bugles, and as the smoke lifts here and
there in spots the eye can detect the
gray horscmcn seeking to obey the calls.
They do rally. They do reform. They
do push forward under that terrible fire.
but only to be broken up and swept
aside. The Federal artillorists get the
order 10 cease firing, the crackloof mus
kctry dies away, and five minutes later
the smoke has driftod on, and tho eye
can scan 'ho plain. Beaten, broken,
slaughtered, and yet the gray horsomen
are trying to rally againl
Now is the moment, and Custer has
waited for it, Only the dead and
wounded are left behind as he moves
ont, as his entire command sweeps
straight across the plain and falls upon
the broken and disorganized enemy.
They rally hero and there by the score
and meet the shock. They fight siugly
and by twos and thrccs. Men wait and
die rather than run away. Brave men,
all Of them-men whose deeds will be-
spoken Of around our camphres for ycars
to come. Tho only criticism will be
that they did not have leader equal 90
Custer in the murdorous art Of war.
Night has fallen, and the fight is over.
There are prisoners to bo guarded,
wounded TO bo cared for, dead TO be-
counted for the official report and spuils
to be gathered up. The clouds have
driven away 10 the east, and the canopy
Of heaven is studded with bright stars.
There is no moon, and the blood spots
on the snow gradually fade away and
are lost to sight.
Harkl That sound is the cry Of
wounded men blended into ono great
wall for succor. II is freezing cold and
they are in torture. Harl; againi That
grewsomo sound rising at intervals
above tho wailing comes from thu
wounded horses. They are also begging
and pleading. Some arc limping about
among the dead and wounded men as if
seeking their masters, pausing now and
then to r1b their cold noses against a
body, while others are lying down and
lift their heads only to utter n whinny
which tells Of fright and pain. Thnnl,
God that night and darkness come to tho
battlefield to hide its horTorsl In the
darkness we shall search ont all the
wounded, bat we shall not DO forced to
look npon the mangled dead maugled
by shot end she'll and grape and the iron
hoofs Of the charging horses until re-
semblance to humanity is lost and one
cries out in horror.