fight. Well--after the shooting was over and the Padre's men had had
enough, we went out to the particular Mexican who was dead, and, sure
enough, he was shot in the head and in the breast; so they laughed and
made peace. About this time one of the spies came in and reported six
hundred Mexicans coming. We made an examination of our ammunition, and
found that we couldn't afford to fight six hundred Mexicans with sixty
men, so we pulled out. This was in the Mexican war, and only goes to
show that Captain Hayes's men could shoot all the Mexicans that could
get to them if the ammunition would hold out."

"What was the most desperate fight you can remember, Colonel?"

The old man hesitated; this required a particular point of view--it was
quality, not quantity, wanted now; and, to be sure, he was a
connoisseur. After much study by the Colonel, during which the world
lost many thrilling tales, the one which survived occurred in 1851.

"My lieutenant, Ed Burleson, was ordered to carry to San Antonio an
Indian prisoner we had taken and turned over to the commanding officer
at Fort McIntosh. On his return, while nearing the Nueces River, he
spied a couple of Indians. Taking seven men, he ordered the balance to
continue along the road. The two Indians proved to be fourteen, and they
charged Burleson up to the teeth. Dismounting his men, he poured it into
them from his Colt's six-shooting rifles. They killed or wounded all
the Indians except two, some of them dying so near the Rangers that they
could put their hands on their boots. All but one of Burleson's men were
wounded--himself shot in the head with an arrow. One man had four
'dogwood switches' [Arrows.] in his body, one of which was in his
bowels. This man told me that every time he raised his gun to fire, the
Indians would stick an arrow in him, but he said he didn't care a cent.
One Indian was lying right up close, and while dying tried to shoot an
arrow, but his strength failed so fast that the arrow only barely left
the bowstring. One of the Rangers in that fight was a curious
fellow--when young he had been captured by Indians, and had lived with
them so long that he had Indian habits. In that fight he kept jumping
around when loading, so as to be a bad target, the same as an Indian
would under the circumstances, and he told Burleson he wished he had his
boots off, so he could get around good"--and here the Colonel paused
quizzically. "Would you call that a good fight