For two days and nights Garfield stood at the helm of the vessel, and battled with the swollen torrent. More than once they were aground, but the resolute management of Garfield and the unflinching obedience of Harry the scout surmounted every difficulty, and at length the little steamer came puffing in sight of the almost despairing camp. The men were beside themselves with joy; they shouted and sang and danced, and declared that with such a leader there was no danger they would not face. But it was at the battle of Chickamauga that Garfield's most daring feat was performed. In the early part of 1863 he was made chief of the staff to General Rosecrans, and in this capacity organised his famous corps of scouts. The summer and autumn were spent in opposing General Bragg, one of the ablest of the Southern commanders. On the 19th and 20th of September the battle of Chickamauga was fought. The right division of the army, under the immediate direction of Rosecrans, was cut in two by Bragg. As the Federals began their retreat, Garfield, who chafed bitterly under this repulse, begged permission to ride back to the second column of the army, which was under the command of General Thomas. He hoped to reach this division, and encourage the general to continue the battle until Rosecrans could collect his broken forces and entrench himself in Chattanooga. Great as was the need, Rosecrans hesitated before allowing Garfield to run the risk of such a ride. At length he reluctantly consented. Grasping Garfield's hand, his chief said, "We may not meet again. Good-bye; God bless you." And, with this kindly farewell in his ears, the young brigadier-general rode away. With three companions for guides, he made for the tangled forest. Then they trotted past Rossville. Here, as they swept along the narrow road, a thousand rifles opened fire upon them, and two of the little party fell. They had ridden into a body of Confederate skirmishers who were hanging upon the flank of Thomas's army. Garfield put his horse to the fence and leaped into a cottonfield. The hedge on the other side of the field was lined with muskets. Garfield rode a zig-zag course across the field, and so prevented the enemy from taking aim. His course slanted upwards, and he knew that if he could but gain the top of the hill, he would be out of range of the rebel rifles. Twice a volley was fired, and the second time his horse received a nasty flesh wound; but still Garfield was uninjured. His good horse, though losing blood fast, kept on. He had reached the crest of the hill just as the second volley of bullets whizzed past him, and the next moment he was safe. A party of Thomas's troops rode out to meet him, they dashed down the hill together, and in a few more minutes Garfield's horse dropped dead at the feet of General Thomas.