The Rebels gave way in disorder, and our men fell back to give the gun an opportunity to throw shell and canister.
The Rebels now saw that we were not to be run over like a field of cornstalks, and they fell back to devise further tactics, giving us a breathing spell to get ourselves in shape for defense.
The dullest could see that we were in a desperate situation.

Critical positions were no new experience to us, as they never are to a cavalry command after a few months in the field, but, though the pitcher goes often to the well, it is broken at last, and our time was evidently at hand.

The narrow throat of the Valley, through which lay the road back to the Gap, was held by a force of Rebels evidently much superior to our own, and strongly posted.

The road was a slender, tortuous one, winding through rocks and gorges.

Nowhere was there room enough to move with even a platoon front against the enemy, and this precluded all chances of cutting out.