the ford, and it's because
they ran so far beyond it, that they are last to cross the water. And
if you fire at 'em now, they'll find that they get nothin' by bein'
cowards, and next time, I reckon, they'll sell their hides as dear as
they can."

Untimely as this palaver, to use a popular word, undoubtedly was, we
could scarcely forbear smiling at the simple _naive_ manner in which
the old Yankee spoke his mind.

"Calkilate, captings," he concluded, "you'd better let the poor devils
run. We shall get more profit by it than if we shot five hundred of
'em. Next time they'll run away directly to show their gratitude for
our ginerosity."

The man stepped back into the ranks, and his comrades nodded
approvingly, and calculated and reckoned that Zebediah had spoke a
true word; and meanwhile the enemy had crossed the river, and was out
of our reach. We were forced to content ourselves with sending a party
across the water to follow up the Mexicans, and observe the direction
they took. We then returned to our old position.

My first thought on arriving there was to search for the body of Bob
Rock--for he it undoubtedly was, who had so mysteriously appeared
amongst us. I repaired to the spot where I had seen him fall; but
could discover no signs of him, either dead or alive. I went over the
whole scene of the fight, searched amongst the vines and along the
bank of the river; there were plenty of dead Mexicans--cavalry,
infantry, and artillery, but no Bob was to be found, nor could any one
inform me what had become of him, although several had seen him fall.

I was continuing my search, when I met Wharton, who asked me what I
was seeking, and on learning, shook his head gravely. He had seen the
wild prairieman, he said, but whence he came, or whither he was gone,
was more than he could tell. It was a long time since any thing had
startled and astonished him so much as this man's appearance and
proceedings. He (Wharton,) had been stationed with his party amongst
the vines, about fifty paces in rear of Fanning's people, when just as
the Mexican infantry had crossed the ford, and were forming up, he saw
a man approaching at a brisk trot from the north side of the prairie.
He halted about a couple of hundred yards from Wharton, tied his
mustang to a bush, and with his rifle on his arm, strode along the
edge of the prairie in the direction of the Mexicans. When he passed
near Wharton, the latter called out to him to halt, and sa