he men,
and kept the enemy well in the outskirts of the town, and the fighting
became general on all sides. Just about this time, my first lieutenant,
William B. Dodd, galloped down the main street, and as he passed a cross
street the Indians put three or four bullets through him. He died during
the afternoon, after having been removed several times from house to
house as the enemy crowded in upon us.

On the second plateau, there was an old Don Quixote windmill, with an
immense tower and sail-arms about seventy-five feet long, which occupied
a commanding position, and had been taken possession of by a company of
about thirty men, who called themselves the Le Sueur Tigers, most of
whom had rifles. They barricaded themselves with sacks of flour and
wheat, loopholed the building and kept the savages at a respectful
distance from the west side of the town. A rifle ball will bury itself
in a sack of flour or wheat, but will not penetrate it. During the
battle the men dug out several of them, and brought them to me because
they were the regulation Minie bullet, and there had been rumors that
the Confederates from Missouri had stirred up the revolt and supplied
the Indians with guns and ammunition. I confess I was astonished when I
saw the bullets, as I knew the Indians had no such arms, but I soon
decided that they were using against us the guns and ammunition they had
taken from the dead soldiers of Captain Marsh's company. I do not
believe the Confederates had any hand in the revolt of these Indians.

We held several other outposts, being brick buildings outside the
barricades, which we loopholed, and found very effective in holding the
Indians aloof. The battle raged generally all around the town, every
man doing his best in his own way. It was a very interesting fight on
account of the stake we were contending for. We had in the place about
twelve or fifteen hundred women and children, the lives of all of whom,
and of ourselves, depended upon victory perching on our banners; for in
a fight like this, no quarter is ever asked or given. The desperation
with which the conflict was conducted can be judged from the fact that I
lost sixty men in the first hour and a half, ten killed and fifty
wounded, out of less than 250, as my force had been depleted by the
number of about seventy-five by Lieutenant Huey taking that number to
guard the approach to the ferry. Crossing to the other side of the river
he was cut off, and forced