It was some years before the Civil War, and the regiment was on duty in the Southwest, then the debatable land of Comanche and Apache.

While on a scout after hostile Indians, the troops in their march roused a large grisly which sped off across the plain in front of them.

Strict orders had been issued against firing at game, because of the nearness of the Indians.

Young Jackson was a man of great strength, a keen swordsman, who always kept the finest edge on his blade, and he was on a swift and mettled Kentucky horse, which luckily had but one eye.

Riding at full speed he soon overtook the quarry.