While they had prevented the stampede of the horses, and were holding off Slade and Skelly, the roles which he had intended for the forces to play were reversed.
They had come forth to destroy the guerrillas, and now they had to fight hard to keep the guerrillas from destroying them.

Despite their shelter, about fifteen of the Winchester men had been slain, and perhaps twenty-five wounded, a loss over which the colonel grieved.

Doubtless as many of the guerrillas had fallen or had been hurt, but that was a poor consolation.
It was obvious too that Slade and Skelly were handling their forces with much skill, utilizing for shelter every bush and dwarfed tree on the slopes, and never exposing themselves, except for a moment or two.
Had there not been so many sharpshooters among the Winchester men they might have escaped almost without any damage, but for some of the deadly riflemen in the valley a single glimpse was enough.

Nevertheless Colonel Winchester's dissatisfaction remained.

He felt that a force such as his, which had come forth to do so much, should do it, and he ransacked his brain for a plan.
"Mr.Reed," he said to the mountaineer, who had remained with him, "do you think we could send a detachment through the pass down the stream and take them in the rear?
That is, this force might climb the slopes behind them, and attack from above ?" The mountaineer chewed his tobacco thoughtfully, looked up at the ridges, and then at the gorge down which they could hear the waters of the little creek rushing.
"It's a big risk," he replied, "but I 'low it kin be done, though you'll hev to pick your men, colonel.