sharpshooters greatly under-estimated Palo'mine's speed, so for a little while the bullets fell behind them. But soon the riflemen readjusted their fire and again the missiles of death were striking all about them. So there was nothing to do but to ride for all they were worth. It was another desperate race. Not the great sweepstake but a race for life, and for the success of the Union army.
Finally the bullets came so thick and they struck so closely that Halsey resorted to an old ruse of his, one that he had learned when he had plenty of time for trick riding. He slipped to the side of his horse, just keeping his left foot in the stirrup, and holding with his right arm over the horse's neck, while with his right foot he held on to the cantle of the saddle. This nearly hid his body from the riflemen.
Far up on the mountain side two Confederate officers were watching the gallantrider through their glasses. When Halsey suddenly disappeared from the horse's back, the younger cried out, "There he goes.
