CHAPTER XXI.
Long Ago on the Rio Grande.
"Which books that a-way," observed the Old Cattleman, "that is,story-books, is onfrequent in Wolfville." He was curiously examiningStevenson's "Treasure Island," that he had taken from my hand. "Thenearest approach to a Wolfville cirk'latin' library I recalls is a copyof 'Robinson Crusoe,' an' that don't last long, as one time when TexasThompson leaves it layin' on a cha'r outside while he enters the RedLight for the usual purpose, a burro who's loafin' loose about thestreet, smells it, tastes it, approoves of it, an' tharupon devours ita heap. After that I don't notice no volumes in the outfit, onlessit's some drug books that Doc Peets has hived over where he camps.It's jest as well, for seein' a gent perusin' a book that a-way,operates frequent to make Dan Boggs gloomy; him bein' oneddicated likeI imparts to you-all yeretofore.
"Whatever do we do for amoosements? We visits the Dance Hall; not todance, sech frivol'ties bein' for younger an' less dignified sports.We goes over thar more to give our countenance an' endorsements toHamilton who runs the hurdy-gurdy, an' who's a mighty proper citizen.We says 'How!' to Hamilton, libates, an' mebby watches 'em 'balanceall,' or 'swing your partners,' a minute or two an' then proceeds.Then thar's Huggins's Bird Cage Op'ry House, an' now an' then we-allfloats over thar an' takes in the dramy. But mostly we camps about theRed Light; the same bein' a common stampin'-ground. It's thar we findeach other; an' when thar's nothin' doin', we upholds the hours tellin'tales an' gossipin' about cattle an' killin's, an' other topics commonto a cow country. Now an' then, thar's a visitin' gent in town who canonfold a story. In sech event he's made a lot of, an' becomes promptlythe star of the evenin'.
"Thar's a Major Sayres we meets up with once in Wolfville,--he's tharon cattle matters with old man Enright--an' I recalls how he growsabsorbin' touchin' some of his adventures in that War.
"Thar's a passel of us, consistin' of Boggs, Tutt, Cherokee, an' TexasThompson, an' me, who's projectin' 'round the Red Light when Enrightintrodooces this Major Sayres. Him an' Enright's been chargin' aboutover by the Cow Springs an' has jest rode in. This Major is easy an'friendly, an' it ain't longer than the third drink before he showssymptoms of bein' willin' to talk.
"'Which I ain't been in the saddle so long,' says the Major, while himan' Enright is considerin' how far they goes since sunup, 'since MisterLee surrenders.'
"'You takes your part, Major,' says Enright, who's ropin' for areminiscence that a-way, 'in the battles of the late war, I believes.'
"'I should shorely say so,' says the Major. 'I'm twenty-two years old,come next grass, when Texas asserts herse'f as part of the confed'racy,an' I picks up a hand an' plays it in common with the other patrioticyooths of my region. Yes, I enters the artillery, but bein' as wedon't have no cannon none at the jump I gets detailed as a aide ontilsomething resemblin' a battery comes pokin' along. I goes through thatcarnage from soup to nuts, an' while I'm shot up some as days go by,it's allers been a source of felic'tation to me, personal, that I neverslays no man myse'f. Shore, I orders my battery to fire, later when Igets a battery; an' ondoubted the bombardments I inaug'rates adds toan' swells the ghost census right along. But of my own hand it's everbeen a matter of congratoolations to me that I don't down nobody an'never takes a skelp.
"'As I turns the leaves of days that's gone I don't now remember butone individyooal openin' for blood that ever presents itse'f. An'after considerin' the case in all its b'arin's, I refooses theopportunity an' the chance goes glidin' by. As a result thar'sprobably one more Yank than otherwise; an' now that peace is yere an'we-all is earnestly settlin' to be brothers No'th and South, I regyardsthat extra Yank as a advantage. Shore, he's a commoonal asset.'
"'Tell us how you fails to c'llect this Yankee, Major,' says Faro Nell:'which I'm plumb interested every time that some one don't get killed.'
"'I reecounts that exploit with pleasure,' says, the Major, bowin'p'lite as Noo Orleans first circles an' touchin' his hat to Nell.'It's one day when we're in a fight. The line of battle is mebbystretched out half a mile. As I su'gests, I'm spraddlin' 'roundpermiscus with no stated arena of effort, carryin' despatches an'turnin' in at anything that offers, as handy as I can. I'm sent finalwith a dispatch from the left to the extreme right of our lines.
"'When we goes into this skrimmage we jumps the Lincoln people somewhatonexpected. They has their blankets an' knapsacks on, an' as theyframes themse'fs up for the struggle they casts off this yere baggage,an' thar it lays, a windrow of knapsacks, blankets an' haversacks,mighty near a half mile in length across the plain. As we-all rebs hasbeen pushin' the Yankees back a lot, this windrow is now to our r'ar,an' I goes canterin' along it on my mission to the far right.
"'Without a word of warnin' a Yank leaps up from where he's beenburrowin' down among this plunder an' snaps a Enfield rifle in my face.I pulls my boss back so he's almost settin' on his hocks; an' betweenus, gents, that onexpected sortie comes mighty near surprisin' me plumbout of the saddle. But the Enfield don't go off none; an' with thatthe Yank throws her down an' starts to' run. He shorely does _vamos_with the velocity of jackrabbits!
"'As soon as me an' my hoss recovers our composure we gives chase.Bein' the pore Yank is afoot, I runs onto him in the first two hundredyards. As I comes up, I've got my six-shooter in my hand. I puts themuzzle on him, sort o' p'intin' between the shoulders for gen'ralresults; but when it comes to onhookin' my weepon I jest can't turn thetrick. It's too much like murder. Meanwhile, the flyin' Yank isstampedin' along like he ain't got a thing on his mind an' neverturnin' his head.
"'I calls on him to surrender. He makes a roode remark over hisshoulder at this military manoover an' pelts ahead all onabated. ThenI evolves a scheme to whack him on the head with my gun. I pushes myhoss up ontil his nose is right by that No'thern party's y'ear.Steadyin' myse'f, I makes a wallop at him an' misses. I invests somuch soul in the blow that missin' that a-way, I comes within' a ace ofclubs of goin' off my hoss an' onto my head. An' still thatexasperatin' Yank goes rackin' along, an' if anything some faster thanbefore. At that I begins to lose my temper ag'in.
"'I reorganises,--for at the time I nearly makes the dive outen thestirrups, I pulls the hoss to a stop,--an' once more takes up thepursoot of my locoed prey. He's a pris'ner fair enough, only he's tooobstinate to admit it. As I closes on him ag'in, I starts for thesecond time to drill him, but I can't make the landin'. I'm too young;my heart ain't hard enough; I rides along by him for a bit an' for thesecond time su'gests that he surrender. The Yank ignores me; he keepson runnin'.
"'Which sech conduct baffles me! It's absolootely ag'in military law.By every roole of the game that Yank's my captive; but defyin'restraint he goes caperin' on like he's free.
"'As I gallops along about four foot to his r'ar I confess I begins tofeel a heap he'pless about him. I'm too tender to shoot, an' he won'tstop, an' thar we be.
"'While I'm keepin' him company on this retreat, I reflects that evenif I downs him, the war would go on jest the same; it wouldn't stop therebellion none, nor gain the South her independence. The more Iconsiders, too, the war looks bigger an' the life of this flyin' Yanklooks smaller. Likewise, it occurs to me that he's headed no'th. Ifhe keeps up his gait an' don't turn or twist he'll have quittedSouthern territory by the end of the week.
"'After makin' a complete round-up of the sityooation I begins to loseinterest in this Yank; an' at last I leaves him, racin' along alone.By way of stim'lant, as I pauses I cracks off a couple of loads outenmy six-shooter into the air. They has a excellent effect; from thejump the Yank makes at the sound I can see the shots puts ten milesmore run into him shore. He keeps up his gallop ontil he's out ofsight, an' I never after feasts my eyes on him.
"'Which I regyards your conduct, Major, as mighty hoomane,' says DanBoggs, raisin' his glass p'litely. 'I approves of it, partic'lar.'
"The Major meets Dan's attentions in the sperit they're proposed.After a moment Enright speaks of them cannons
.
"But you-all got a battery final, Major?' says Enright.
"'Six brass guns,' says the Major, an' his gray eyes beams an' hespeaks of 'em like they was six beautiful women. 'Six brass guns, theybe,' he says. We captured 'em from the enemy an' I'm put in command.Gents, I've witnessed some successes personal, but I never sees the daywhen I'm as satisfied an' as contentedly proud as when I finds myse'fin command of them six brass guns. I was like a lover to every one of'em.
"'I'm that headlong to get action--we're in middle Loosiana at thetime--that I hauls a couple of 'em over by the Mississippi an' goesprowlin' 'round ontil I pulls on trouble with a little Yankee gun boat.It lasts two hours, an' I shore sinks that naval outfit an' piles theold Mississippi on top of 'em. I'm so puffed up with this yere exploitthat a pigeon looks all sunk in an' consumptif beside me.
"'Thar's one feacher of this dooel with the little gun boat whichdispleases me, however. Old Butler's got Noo Orleans at the time, an'among other things he's editin' the papers. I reads in one of 'em amonth later about me sinkin' that scow. It says I'm a barb'rousvillain, the story does, an' shoots up the boat after it surrenders,an' old Butler allows he'll hang me a whole lot the moment ever he getsthem remarkable eyes onto me. I don't care none at the time much, onlyI resents this yere charge. I shore never fires a shot at that gunboatafter it gives up; I ain't so opulent of amm'nition as all that. Astime goes on, however, thar's a day when I'm goin' to take thedetermination of old Butler more to heart.
"'Followin' the gun-boat eepisode I'm more locoed than ever to get mybattery into a fight. An' at last I has my hopes entirely fulfilled.It's about four o'clock one evenin' when we caroms on about threebrigades of Yanks. Thar's mebby twelve thousand of us rebs an' all offourteen thousand of the Lincoln people. My battery is all the bigguns we-all has, while said Yanks is strong with six full batteries.
"'The battle opens up; we're on a old sugar plantation, an' aftermanooverin' about a while we settles down to work. It's that day I hasmy dreams of carnage realised in full. I turns loose my six guns withverve an' fervour, an' it ain't time for a second drink before Iattracts the warmest attention from every one of the Yankee batteries.She's shore a scandal the way them gents in bloo does shoot me up!Jest to give you-all a idee: the Yankees slams away at me for twentyminutes; they dismounts two of my guns; they kills or creases forty ofmy sixty-six men; an' when they gets through you-all could plant cottonwhere my battery stands, it's that ploughed up.
"'It's in the midst of the _baile_, an' I'm standin' near my number-onegun. Thar's a man comes up with a cartridge. A piece of a shell t'arshim open, an' he falls across the gun, limp as a towel, an' then ontothe ground. I orders a party named Williams to the place. Somethingcomes flyin' down outen the heavens above an' smites Williams on topthe head; an' he's gone. I orders up another. He assoomes theresponsibilities of this p'sition jest in time to get a rifle bulletthrough the jaw. He lives though; I sees him after the war.
"'As that's no more men for the place, I steps for'ard myse'f. I'm notthar a minute when I sinks down to the ground. I don't feel nothin'an' can't make it out.
"'While I'm revolvin' this yere phenomenon of me wiltin' that a-way an'tryin to form some opinions about it, thar's a explosion like fortybattles all in one. For a moment, I reckons that somehow we-all hasopened up a volcano inadvertent, an' that from now on Loosiana canboast a Hecla of her own. But it ain't no volcano. It's my ammunitionwaggons which, with two thousund rounds is standin' about one hundredyards to my r'ar. The Yanks done blows up the whole outfit with one oftheir shells.
"'It's strictly the thing, however, which lets my battery out. Thethick smoke of the two thousand cartridges drifts down an' blanketswhat's left of us like a fog. The Yanks quits us; they allows mostlikely they've lifted me an' my six brass guns plumb off the earth.Thar's some roodiments of trooth in the theery for that matter.
"'These last interestin' details sort o' all happens at once. I'vejest dropped at the time when my ammunition waggons enters into thesperit of the o'casion like I describes. As I lays thar one of my mencomes gropin' along down to me in the smoke.
"'"Be you hurt, Major?" he says.
"'"I don't know," I replies: "my idee is that you better investigatean' see."
"'He t'ars open my coat; thar's no blood on my shirt. He lifts one arman' then the other; they're sound as gold pieces. Then I lifts up myleft laig; I've got on high hoss-man boots.
"'"Pull off this moccasin," I says.
"'He pulls her off an' thar's nothin' the matter thar. I breaks outinto a profoose sweat; gents, I'm scared speechless. I begins to fearI ain't plugged at all; that I've fainted away on a field of battle an'doo to become the scandal of two armies. I never feels so weak an'sick!
"'I've got one chance left an' trembles as I plays it; I lifts up myright boot. I win; about a quart of blood runs out. Talk ofreprievin' folks who's sentenced to death! Gents, their emotions isonly imitations of what I feels when I finds that the Yanks done got mean' nary doubt. It's all right--a rifle bullet through my ankle!
"'That night I'm mowed away, with twenty other wounded folks, in alittle cabin off to one side, an' thar's a couple of doctors sizin' upmy laig.
"'"Joe," says one, that a-way, "we've got to cut it off."
"'But I votes "no" emphatic; I'm too young to talk about goin shy alaig. With that they ties it up as well as ever they can, warnin' memeanwhile that I've got about one chance in a score to beat the game.Then they imparts a piece of news that's a mighty sight worse than mylaig.
"'"Joe," says this doctor, when he's got me bandaged, "our army's gotto rustle out of yere a whole lot. She's on the retreat right now.Them Yanks outheld us an' out-played us an' we've got to go stampedin'.The worst is, thar's no way to take you along, an' we'll have to leaveyou behind."
"'"Then the Yanks will corral me?" I asks.
"'"Shore," he replies, "but thar's nothin' else for it."
"'It's then it comes on me about that gunboat an' the promises oldButler makes himse'f about hangin' me when caught. Which these yerereflections infooses new life into me. I makes the doctor who'stalkin' go rummagin' about ontil he rounds up a old nigger daddy, amule an' a two-wheel sugar kyart. It's rainin' by now so's you-allcould stand an' wash your face an' hands in it. As that medical sharploads me in, he gives me a bottle of this yere morphine, an' betweenjolts an' groans I feeds on said drug until mornin.'
"'That old black daddy is dead game. He drives me all night an' allday an' all night ag'n, an' I'm in Shreveport; my ankle's about thesize of a bale of cotton. Thar's one ray through it all, however; Imisses meetin' old man Butler an' I looks on that as a triumph whichshore borders on relief.'
"'An' I reckons now,' says Dan Boggs, 'you severs your relations withthe war?'
"'No,' goes on the Major; 'I keeps up my voylence to the close. When Igrows robust enough to ride ag'in I'm in Texas. Thar's a expeditionfittin' out to invade an' subdoo Noo Mexico, an' I j'ines dogs with itas chief of the big guns. Thar's thirty-eight hundred bold and buoyantsperits rides outen Austin on these military experiments we plans, an'as evincin' the luck we has, I need only to p'int out that nine monthslater we returns with a scant eight hundred. Three thousand of 'emkilled, wounded an' missin' shows that efforts to list the trip onderthe head of "picnics" would be irony.
"'Comin', as we-all does, from one thousand miles away, thar ain't oneof us who saveys, practical, as much about the sand-blown desertregions we invades as we does of what goes on in the moon. ThatGen'ral Canby, who later gets downed by the Modocs, is on the RioGrande at Fort Craig. While we're pirootin' about in a blind sort o'fashion we ropes up one of Canby's couriers who's p'intin' no'th forFort Union with despatches. This Gen'ral Canby makes the followin'facetious alloosion: After mentionin' our oninvited presence in theterritory, he says:
"'"But let 'em alone. We'll dig the potatoes when they're ripe."
"'Gents, we was the toobers!' An' yere the
Major pauses for a drink.'We was the potatoes which Canby's exultin' over! We don't onderstandit at the time, but it gets cl'arer as the days drifts by.
"'I'm never in a more desolate stretch of what would be timber onlythar ain't no trees. Thar's nothin' for the mules an' hosses; half thetime thar ain't even water. An' then it's alkali. An' our days teemsan' staggers with disgustin' experiences. Once we're shy water twodays. It's the third day about fourth drink time in the evenin'. Thesun has two hours yet to go. My battery is toilin' along, sand to thehubs of gun-carriages an' caissons, when I sees the mules p'int theiry'ears for'ard with looks of happy surprise. Then the intelligentanamiles begins a song of praise; an' next while we-all is marvellin'thereat an' before ever a gent can stretch hand to bridle to stop 'em,the mules begins to fly. They yanks my field pieces over the desert asbusy an' full of patriotic ardour as a drunkard on 'lection day. Thewhole battery runs away. Gents, the mules smells water. It's twomiles away,--a big pond she is,--an' that locoed battery never stops,but rushes plumb in over its y'ears; an' I lose sixteen mules an' twoguns before ever I'm safe ag'in on terry firmy.
"'It's shore remarkable,' exclaims the Major, settin' down his glass,'how time softens the view an' changes bitter to sweet that a-way. AsI brings before me in review said details thar's nothin' more harassin'from soda to hock than that campaign on the Rio Grande. Thar's not oneray of sunshine to paint a streak of gold in the picture from frame toframe; all is dark an' gloom an' death. An' yet, lookin' back'ardthrough the years, the mem'ry of it is pleasant an' refreshing a heapmore so than enterprises of greater ease with success instead offailure for the finish.
"'Thar's one partic'lar incident of this explorin' expeditions into NooMexico which never recurs to my mind without leavin' my eyes some dim.I don't claim to be no expert on pathos an' I'm far from regyardin'myse'f as a sharp on tears, but thar's folks who sort o' makes sadnessa speshulty, women folks lots of 'em, who allows that what I'm about torecount possesses pecooliar elements of sorrow.
"'Thar's a young captain--he ain't more'n a boy--who's brought a troopof lancers along with us. This boy Captain hails from some'ers up'round Waco, an' thar ain't a handsomer or braver in all Pres'dentDavis's army. This Captain--whose name is Edson,--an' me, bein' we-allis both young, works ourse'fs into a clost friendship for each other; Ifeels about him like he's my brother. Nacherally, over a camp fire an'mebby a stray bottle an' a piece of roast antelope, him an' me confidesabout ourse'fs. This Captain Edson back in Waco has got a old widowmother who's some rich for Texas, an' also thar's a sweetheart he aimsto marry when the war's over an' done. I reckons him an' me talks ofthat mother an' sweetheart of his a hundred times.
"'It falls out that where we fords the Pecos we runs up on a MexicanPlaza--the "Plaza Chico" they-all calls it--an' we camps thar by theriver a week, givin' our cattle a chance to roll an' recooperate up onthe grass an' water.
"'Then we goes p'intin' out for the settin' sun ag'in, allowin' tostrike the Rio Grande some'ers below Albuquerque. Captain Edson, whilewe're pesterin' 'round at the Plaza Chico, attaches to his retinoo aMexican boy; an' as our boogles begins to sing an' we lines out forthat west'ard push, this yere boy rides along with Edson an' thelancers.
"'Our old war chief who has charge of our wanderin's is strictly sternan' hard. An' I reckons now he's the last gent to go makin' softallowances for any warmth of yooth, or puttin' up with any primrosepaths of gentle dalliance, of any an' all who ever buckles on a set ofside arms. It thus befalls that when he discovers on the mornin' ofthe second day that this Mexican boy is a Mexican girl, he goes ragin'into the ambient air like a eagle.
"'The Old Man claps Edson onder arrest an' commands the girl to saddleup an' go streakin' for the Plaza Chico. As it's only a slow day'smarch an' as these Mexicans knows the country like a coyote, it's acinch the girl meets no harm an' runs no resks. But it serves to plantthe thorns of wrath in the heart of Captain Edson.
"'The Old Man makes him loose an' gives him back his lancers beforeever we rides half a day, but it don't work no mollifications with theyoung Captain. He offers no remarks, bein' too good a soldier; but henever speaks to the Old Man no more, except it's business.
"'"Joe," he says to me, as we rides along, or mebby after we're in campat night, "I'll never go back to Texas. I've been disgraced at thehead of my troop an' I'll take no sech record home."
"'"You oughter not talk that a-way, Ed," I'd say, tryin' to get hissensibilities smoothed down. "If you don't care none for yourse'f orfor your footure, you-all should remember thar's something comin' tothe loved ones at home. Moreover, it's weak sayin' you-all ain't goin'back to Texas. How be you goin' to he'p it, onless you piles upshore-enough disgrace by desertin' them lancers of yours?"
"'"Which if we has the luck," says this Captain Edson, "to cross upwith any Yanks who's capable of aimin' low an' shootin' half way troo,I'll find a way to dodge that goin' back without desertin'."
"'No, I don't make no argyments with him; it's hopeless talkin' to agent who's melancholly an' who's pride's been jarred; thar's nothingbut time can fix things up for him. An' I allers allows that this boyCaptain would have emerged from the clouds eventooal, only it happenshe don't get the time. His chance comes too soon; an' he shore playsit desperate.
"'Our first offishul act after reachin' the Rio Grande is to lay for apassel of Yank cavalry--thar's two thousand of 'em I reckons. We ridesup on these yere lively persons as we sounds a halt for the evenin'.It looks like our boogles is a summons, for they comes buttin' intoview through a dry arroya an' out onto the wide green bottoms of theRio Grande at the first call. They're about a mile away, an' at sightof us they begins in a fashion of idle indifference to throw out a lineof battle. They fights on foot, them bloo folks do; dismounting withevery fourth man to hold the hosses. They displays a heap of insolencefor nothin' but cavalry an' no big guns; but as they fights likeinfantry an' is armed with Spencer seven-shooters besides, the playain't so owdacious neither.
"'Thar's mebby a hour of sun an' I'm feelin' mighty surly as I gets mybattery into line. I'm disgusted to think we've got to fight for ournight's camp, an' swearin' to myse'f in a low tone, so's not to setprofane examples to my men, at the idee that these yere Yanks is thatpreecip'tate they can't wait till mornin' for their war-jig. But Ican't he'p myse'f. That proverb about it takin' two to make a fight isall a bluff. It only takes one to make a fight. As far as we-all rebsis concerned that evenin' we ain't honin' for trouble, leastwise, notontil mornin'; but them inordinate Yanks will have it, an' thar you be.The fight can't be postponed.
"'Thar's no tumblin' hurry about how any of us goes to work. Bothsides has got old at the game an' war ain't the novelty she is once.The Yanks is takin' their p'sition, an' we're locatin' our lines an'all as ca'mly an' with no more excitement than if it's dress p'rade.The Yanks is from Colorado. My sergeant speaks of 'em to me the nextday an' gives his opinion touchin' their merits.
"'"Where did you say them Yankees comes from, Major?" says my serjeant.
"'"Colorado," I replies.
"'"Which thar's about thirty minutes last evenin'," says my serjeant,"when I shorely thinks they're recrooted in hell," an' my serjeantshakes his head.
"'While I'm linin' up my battery mighty discontented an' disgruntled,an orderly pulls my sleeve.
"'"Look thar, Major!" he says.
"'I turns, an' thar over on our right, all alone, goes Captain Edsonan' his lancers. Without waiting an' without commands, Captain Edsonhas his boogler sound a charge; an' thar goes the lancers stampedin'along like they're a army corps an' cap'ble of sweepin' the twothousand cool an' c'llected Yankees off the Rio Grande.
"'For a moment all we does is stand an' look; the surprise of it leavesno idee of action. The lancers swings across the grassy levels.Thar's not a shot fired; Edson's people ain't got nothin' but themreedic'lous spears, an' the Yanks, who seems to know it, stands likethe rest of us without firin' an' watches 'em come. It's like
apicture, with the thin bright air an' the settin' sun shinin' sidewaysover the gray line of mountains fifty miles to the west.
"'I never sees folks more placid than the Yanks an' at the same time soplumb alert. Mountain lions is lethargic to 'em. When Captain Edsonan' his lancers charges into 'em the Yanks opens right an' left, eachsharp of 'em gettin' outen the way of that partic'lar lancer who'stryin' to spear him; but all in a steady, onruffled fashion that's asthreatenin' as it is excellent. The lancers, with Captain Edson, goesthrough, full charge, twenty rods to the r'ar of the Yankee line. An',gents, never a man comes back.
"'As Edson an' his troop goes through, the Yanks turns an' opens on'em. The voices of the Spencers sounds like the long roll of a drum.Hoss an' man goes down, dead an' wounded; never a gent of 'em all ridesback through that awful Yankee line. Pore Edson shore has his wish;he's cut the trail of folks who's cap'ble of aimin' low an' shootin'half way troo.
"'These sperited moves I've been relatin' don't take no time in thedoin'. The hairbrain play of Captain Edson forces our hands. The OldMan orders a charge, an' we pushes the Yanks back onto their hosses an'rescoos what's left of Edson an' his lancers. After skirmishin' alittle the Yanks draws away an' leaves us alone on the field. Theyearns the encomiums of my serjeant, though, before ever they decides to_vamos_.
"'Edson's been shot hard and frequent; thar's no chance for him. Helooks up at me, when we're bringin' him off, an' says:
"'"Joe," an' he smiles an' squeezes my hand, while his tones is plentyfeeble, "Joe, you notes don't you that while I ain't goin' back toTexas, I don't have to desert."
"'That night we beds down our boy Captain in a sol'tary Mexican 'doby.He's layin' on a pile of blankets clost by the door while the moonshines down an' makes things light as noonday. He's been talkin' to mean' givin' me messages for his mother an' the rest of his outfit atWaco, an' I promises to carry 'em safe an' deliver 'em when I rides inag'in on good old Texas. Then he wants his mare brought up where hecan pet her muzzle an' say _Adios_ to her.
"'"For, Joe," he says, "I'm doo to go at once now, an' my days is downto minutes."
"'"The medicine man, Ed," I says, "tells me that you-all has hours tolive."
"'"But, Joe," he replies, "I knows. I'm a mighty good prophet yourecalls about my not goin' back, an' you can gamble I'm not makin' anymistakes now. It's down to minutes, I tells you, an' I wants to see mymare."
"'Which the mare is brought up an' stands thar with her velvet nose inhis face; her name's "Ruth," after Edson's sweetheart. The mare is assplendid as a picture; pure blood, an' her speed an' bottom is thewonder of the army. Usual a hoss is locoed by the smell of blood, butit don't stampede this Ruth; an' she stays thar with him as still an'tender as a woman, an' with all the sorrow in her heart of folks. AsEdson rubs her nose with his weak hand an' pets her, he asks me to takethis Ruth back to his sweetheart with all his love.
"'"Which now I'm goin'," he whispers, "no one's to mention thateepisode of the Pecos an' the little Mexican girl of Plaza Chico!"
"'Edson is still a moment; an' then after sayin' "Good-by," he lets onthat he desires me to leave him alone with the mare.
"'"I'll give Ruth yere a kiss an' a extra message for my sweetheart,"he says, "an' then I'll sleep some."
"'I camps down outside the 'doby an' looks up at the moon an' begins tolet my own thoughts go grazin' off towards Texas. It's perhaps aminute when thar's the quick _crack_! of a six-shooter, an' the mareRuth r'ars up an' back'ard ontil she's almost down. But she recoversherse'f an' stands sweatin' an' shiverin' an' her eyes burnin' like shesees a ghost. Shore, it's over; pore Edson won't wait; he's got to hisguns, an' thar's a bullet through his head.'"
THE END.
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