On the other hand, the enemy had perhaps fought with the first platoon, and had been running their horses till the animals were nearly exhausted. But they received the charge like brave men, and stood up to the work. Deck had advanced on the right of his men for the reason that the officer in command of the enemy was on the left of his troopers; for he desired to meet him. He had drawn his sabre; and possibly the remembrance of his meeting on the field with the lieutenant of the Texan Rangers had something to do with his choice of a position.
The squads in charge of Life and Fronklyn had each put in a volley from their carbines as soon as they were abreast of the Confederates, where they could fire diagonally at the enemy so as not to imperil their friends; and two of them had dropped out of their saddles, and doubtless others were wounded. Deck shouted words of encouragement to his soldiers, and almost instantly the conflict became furious. The Confederates fought like demons, and two of the loyal force were seen to drop from their saddles by the men on the flanks.
But the firing ceased as soon as both parties were mingled in the fight; for the two sergeants feared that their bullets might hit the wrong men. At this point the Confederate commander rushed upon the young lieutenant, who was ready for him, though he had not opened the duel. Both of them were skilled swordsmen, and for a minute at least they parried each other's cuts and thrusts. Life realized that his _protégé_, as he regarded him, was in imminent peril; for his antagonist was a heavier and taller man, and the longer reach of his right arm was in his favor.
Deck was hard pressed, and neither officer could even glance at his men, lest he should be caught off his guard. But Deck was still self-possessed, and perhaps the excellent advice of his father saved his life. Life Knox was not afraid of anything, but he trembled for the safety of his lieutenant. He sought a position where he could put a bullet through the brain of the brave Confederate, though he felt that it would be mean to do so. Fortunately for him the sergeant could find no such position.
Ceph, the name of Deck's noble steed, which had been abbreviated from Bucephalus, seemed to Life, whose attention was fixed upon his officer, restive and uneasy: but his rider did not bring him into a leaping posture, as he had done on a former occasion, and had been charged by his superiors with reckless daring; but the charger suddenly stood up on his hind feet, as though he intended to attempt the leap over the Confederate officer's horse on his own responsibility.
