thin a hundred paces of the ford,
the prairie was nearly clear of them. There were still a couple of
hundred men on our side of the water, completely at our mercy, and
Wharton, who was a little in front with thirty men, gave the word to
fire upon them. No one obeyed. He repeated the command. Not a rifle
was raised. He stared at his men, astonished and impatient at this
strange disobedience. An old weather-beaten bear-hunter stepped
forward, squirting out his tobacco juice with all imaginable
deliberation.

"I tell ye what, capting!" said he, passing his quid over from his
right cheek to his left; "I calkilate, capting," he continued, "we'd
better leave the poor devils of dons alone."

"The poor devils of dons alone!" repeated Wharton in a rage. "Are you
mad, man?"

Fanning and I had just come up with our detachment, and were not less
surprised and angry than Wharton was, at this breach of discipline.
The man, however, did not allow himself to be disconcerted.

"There's a proverb, gentlemen," said he, turning to us, "which says,
that one should build a golden bridge for a beaten enemy; and a good
proverb it is, I calkilate--a considerable good one."

"What do you mean, man, with your golden bridge?" cried Fanning. "This
is no time for proverbs."

"Do you know that you are liable to be punished for insubordination?"
said I. "It's your duty to fire, and do the enemy all the harm you
can; not to be quoting proverbs."

"Calkilate it is," replied the man very coolly. "Calkilate I could
shoot 'em without either danger or trouble; but I reckon that would be
like Spaniards or Mexicans; not like Americans--not prudent."

"Not like Americans? Would you let the enemy escape, then, when we
have him in our power?"

"Calkilate I would. Calkilate we should do ourselves more harm than
him by shooting down his people. That was a considerable sensible
commandment of yourn, always to shoot the foremost of the Mexicans
when they attacked. It discouraged the bold ones, and was a sort of
premium on cowardice. Them as lagged behind escaped, them as came
bravely on were shot. It was a good calkilation. If we had shot 'em
without discrimination, the cowards would have got bold, seein' that
they weren't safer in rear than in front. The cowards are our best
friends. Now them runaways," continued he, pointing to the Mexicans,
who were crowding over the river, "are jest the most cowardly of 'em
all, for in their fright they quite forgot