coming, we noticed that our mules, what was tied to a wagon
in the corral, was getting uneasy, a pawing and snorting, with their
long ears cocked up and looking toward the Walnut. Before I could finish
saying to Thorpe, 'Them mules smells Ingins,' half a dozen or more of
the darned cusses dashed out of the timber, yelling and shaking their
robes, which, of course, waked up the whole camp. Me and Thorpe sent a
couple of shots after them, that scattered the devils for a minute; but
we hadn't hit nary one, because it was too dark yet to draw a bead on
them. We was certain there was a good many more of them behind the first
that had charged us; so we got all the men on the side of the corral
next to the Trail. The Ingins we know'd couldn't get behind us, on
account of the river, and we was bound to make them fight where we
wanted them to, if they meant to fight at all.

"In less than a minute, quicker than I can tell you, sure enough, out
they came again, only there was 'bout eighty of them this time. They
made a dash at once, and their arrows fell like a shower of hail on
the ground and against the wagon-sheets as the cusses swept by on their
ponies. There wasn't anybody hurt, and our turn soon came. Just as they
circled back, we poured it into them, killing six and wounding two. You
see them Mexican guns had did some work that we didn't expect, and then
we Americans felt better. Well, boys, them varmints made four charges
like that on to us before we could get shet of them; but we killed as
many as sixteen or eighteen, and they got mighty sick of it and quit;
they had only knocked over one Mexican, and put an arrow into Thorpe's
arm.

"I was amused at little Paul all the time the scrimmage was going on.
He stood up in the wagon where I'd put him, a looking out of the hole
behind where the sheet was drawed together, and every time an Ingin
was tumbled off his pony, he would clap his hands and yell, 'There goes
another one, Uncle John!'

"After their last charge, they rode off out of range, where they stood
in little bunches talking to each other, holding some sort of a pow-wow.
It riled us to see the darned cusses keep so far away from our rifles,
because we wanted to lay a few more of them out, but was obliged to keep
still and watch out for some new deviltry. We waited there until it
was plumb night, not daring to move out yet; but we managed to boil our
coffee and fry slap-jacks and meat.

"The oxen kept up a bellow