about noon
The sergeant heard the captain yell to him to hold on , and he got the most of the `` fours '' to stop , and let the boys get on , but the little Irishman and myself could n't hold our extra horses , and they dragged us along over logs and through brush , the regiment drew sabers to `` shoo '' the horses back , waived their hats , my horse run his fore feet into a hole , fell down , and let me off over his head , the other horses seemed to walk on me , I became insensible , and the next thing I knew I was in an ambulance , behind the regiment , which was on the march , as though nothing had happened . I felt of myself to see if anything was broke , and finding I was all right I told the driver of the ambulance I guessed I would get out and mount my horse , but he said he guessed I wouldn t , because the colonel had told him if I died to bury me beside the road , but if I lived to bring me to headquarters for punishment . The driver said the boys whose horses I had stampeded , wanted to kill me , but the colonel had said death was too good for me . Well , nobody was hurt in the skirmish , and about noon we arrived at a camping place for the night , and the ambulance drove up , and I was placed under guard . It seems the sergeant had laid the whole thing to me . He had admitted to the colonel that he did n't know one bugle call from another , and he supposed I did , and when he asked me what it was , and I said it was to retreat , he supposed I knew , and retreated . The colonel asked me what I had to say , and I told him I did n't know any bugle call except get your quinine , get your quinine .