Many had legs and arms broken, and I have no doubt that several were killed.
It was the stormiest five minutes that I ever saw.
While this was going on two of my company, belonging to the Fifth Iowa Cavalry, were in hot pursuit of Curtis.

I had seen them start and shouted to them to come back, as I feared they would be set upon by the Raiders and murdered.

But the din was so overpowering that they could not hear me, and doubtless would not have come back if they had heard.
Curtis ran diagonally down the hill, jumping over the tents and knocking down the men who happened in his way.

Arriving at the swamp he plunged in, sinking nearly to his hips in the fetid, filthy ooze.

He forged his way through with terrible effort.