rection, and scarcely three hundred yards distant,
appeared a band of horsemen coming up at a gallop. They were right in
the moon's eye, and we could see glancing arms, and hear loud voices.
The hoofs could be heard pounding the prairie, and my companion and I
recognised the heavy tread of the American horse. Still more certain
were we about that hoarse "hurrah." Neither Indian nor Mexican could
have uttered that well-known shout.

"Hooraw!--the rangers!" cried Garey, as he echoed the cry at the full
pitch of his voice.

The guerrilleros, stupified by surprise at sight of this new enemy, had
paused for a moment--no doubt fancying it was another party of Indians.
Their halt was of short duration; the dim light favoured them; rifles
already played upon their ranks; and, suddenly wheeling to the left,
they struck out into the open plain.

The Indians, seeing them turn off, leaned into the diagonal line to
intercept them; but the rangers, already close, up, had just made a
similar movement, and savage and Saxon were now obliquing towards each
other!

The moon, that for some minutes had been yielding but a faint light,
became suddenly eclipsed by a cloud, and the darkness was now greater
than ever. Garey and I saw no more of the strife; but we heard the
shock of the opposing bands; we heard the war-whoop of the savage
mingling with the ranger's vengeful shout: we heard the "crack, crack,
crack" of yager rifles, and the quick detonations of revolvers--the
clashing of sabre-blades upon spear-shafts--the ring of breaking steel--
the neighing of steeds--the victor's cry of triumph--and the deep
anguished groan of the victim.

With anxious hearts, and nerves excited to their utmost, we stood upon
the cliff, and listened to these sounds of dread import.

Not long did they last. The fierce struggle was soon over. When the
moon gleamed forth again, the battle was ended. Prostrate forms, both
of man and horse, were lying upon the plain.

Far to the south, a dark clump was seen disappearing over the prairie's
edge: it was the cowardly guerrilla. To the west, horsemen galloped
away, alone, or in straggling groups; but the cheer of triumph that
reached us from the scene of strife told us who were the masters of the
ground. The rangers had triumphed.

"Whur ur ye, Bill?" cried a voice from the bottom of the cliff, which
both of us easily recognised.

"Hyar I be," answered Garey.

"Wal, we've gin them Injuns goss, I