this skirmish was, as the reader might readily
imagine, Kit Carson. The pursuit was continued far into the mountains
and was only given over when night came on. The soldiers then retired
to their reserve-guard, who had established a camp on a small stream
which runs through the centre of the pass, where their pack animals
and stores could be easily guarded. During this exciting fight,
several of the soldiers were slightly wounded. With this exception,
the command came out of the skirmish unharmed. On the side of the
Indians, affairs in this respect were quite different. Their blood had
well sprinkled the battle-ground, and several of their swarthy forms
were stretched out at full length, sleeping that sleep that knows no
wakening, except it be at the final judgment day. Had it not been that
most of the Indians, as is usually the case with them when in action,
were tied on their horses, this number would have been augmented. The
bloody trails that were afterwards found in the mountains, went
to prove that many of the wounds given to the escaped Indians were
mortal, and, while their horses were carrying them from the danger,
they themselves were sinking from furious hemorrhage. Early in the
pursuit, a fine warrior was thrown from his horse. As he had been
crippled by a ball, he could not recover himself and make off. For
some time he lay alone and neglected, but when the rear guard came
along they noticed that he was playing a game by pretending to
be dead; but he had closed his eyes too firmly for a man in that
condition, and this fact attracted the notice of the passers-by. A
Mexican raised his rifle and fired at the brave; but the bullet only
served to cause another flesh wound. This so irritated the would-be
dead, savage, that, seizing his lance which lay by his side, he
attempted to reach and kill his adversary with it; but, others coming
up, he was soon dispatched.

While this running fight was in progress, the author met with an
adventure which came near costing him his life. It was my duty to
follow the charging soldiers in order to be near at hand to render
professional services to the wounded, should there be any. I was
mounted on a mule, and when the dragoon horses started off, he became
frightened and unmanageable. I soon found that this mule lacked the
speed of the former animals, hence he was in a short time left far
behind, but not until he had fallen and thrown me into a thrifty bed
of prickly pears, the