To me the rider said, "Senor Americanito, I know your gun is loaded
right and is ready to shoot straight. Look you, if you plant a bullet
just below an Indian's navel, you will see him do a double
somersault, which is more wonderful to behold than any circus
performance you ever saw."

Here was a man good to see, a descendant of the famous Don Fernando
Cortez, conquistador, and molded on the lines of Pizarro, the wily
conqueror of Peru, and he heartened our crew amazingly. He exhorted
the men to be brave and fight like Spaniards, and he prayed to the
saints to preserve us; and piously remembering his enemies, he called
on the devil to preserve the Indians. Such zealous devotion found
merited favor with the blessed saints in Heaven, for they granted his
prayer, and the Indians did not attack us that day.

On the following day, Don Emillo Cortez came again and asked me to
ride with him as a scout. He had brought a young man to drive the
team in my stead. Gladly I accepted his invitation. He arranged a
pillion for his saddle and mounted me behind him, facing the horse's
tail. Then he passed a broad strap around his waist and my body and
armed me with a Henry repeating rifle, then a new invention and a
very serviceable gun. In this manner I had both hands free and made
him the best sort of a rear guard. We cantered toward a sandy hill on
our left. A coyote came our way, appearing from the crest of the
hill. The animal was looking back over its shoulder and veered off
when it scented us. Don Emilio halted his horse. "That coyote is
driven by Indians," said he; "do you think you can hit it at this
distance?" I thought I could by aiming high and a little forward. At
the crack of my rifle the coyote yelped and bit its side, then
rolling on the grass, expired. "Carajo! a dead shot, for Dios!"