All our men were fighting with single shotguns.

The first shot, in a close action, had to count, or a second one might never be fired.
I had been detailed to follow Smith as he rode to and fro.

With an eye to coming out of the battle with a whole skin I had picked out a number of trees, behind which I proposed to drop my horse when the fighting got to close quarters.

This was the fashion I had always employed in Indian fighting.

As the Confederates got within good range, the order "Fire!" rang out.
At that instant I wheeled my horse behind a big oak tree.