his saddle, dead.

"Well done, Jack! fire and scissors! who showed yer that trick? whooray!
whoop!" and I heard the voice of Lincoln, in a sort of Indian yell,
rising high above the din.

At this moment a guerillo, mounted upon a powerful black mustang, came
galloping down. This man, unlike most of his comrades, was armed with
the sabre, which he evidently wielded with great dexterity. He came
dashing on, his white teeth set in a fierce smile.

"Ha! Monsieur le Capitaine," shouted he, as he came near, "still alive?
I thought I had finished you on Lobos; not too late yet!"

I recognised the deserter, Dubrosc!

"Villain!" I ejaculated, too full of rage to utter another word.

We met at full speedy but with my unmanageable horse I could only ward
off his blow as he swept past me. We wheeled again, and galloped
towards each other--both of us impelled by hatred; but my horse again
shied, frightened by the gleaming sabre of my antagonist. Before I
could rein him round, he had brought me close to the pickets of the
corral; and on turning to meet the deserter, I found that we were
separated by a band of dark objects.

It was a detachment of mules that had backed from the gates of the
corral and were escaping to the open plain. We reined up, eyeing each
other with impatient vengeance; but the bullets of my men began to
whistle from the pickets; and Dubrosc, with a threatening gesture,
wheeled his horse and galloped off to his comrades. They had retired
beyond range, and were halted in groups upon the prairie, chafing with
disappointment and rage.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A HERCULEAN FEAT.

The whole skirmish did not occupy two minutes. It was like most charges
of Mexican cavalry--a dash, a wild yelling, half a dozen empty saddles,
and a hasty retreat.

The guerilleros had swerved off as soon as they perceived that we had
gained a safe position, and the bullets of our reloaded pieces began to
whistle around their ears. Dubrosc alone, in his impetuosity, galloped
close up to the inclosure; and it was only on perceiving himself alone,
and the folly of exposing himself thus fruitlessly, that he wheeled
round and followed the Mexicans. The latter were now out upon the
prairie, beyond the range of small-arms, grouped around their wounded
comrades, or galloping to and fro, with yells of disappointed vengeance.

I entered the corral, where most of my men had sheltered themselves
behind the stockades. Little Ja