"The Indian's dignified bearing and his inspired words on the
threshold of eternity moved my conscience and caused a feeling of
respect and pity for him in my breast as well as in others of our
party. When Juan de Dios Carasco, who was known and despised by all
for being a good-for-nothing thieving coward, drew his gun to shoot
the Navajo in the back, I could not control my anger. 'Stop,' I
shouted, 'you miserable hen thief, or you die at my hands, and now.
This Indian should die, but not in such a manner. Senores, you have
made me your capitan. Now I shall enforce my orders at the risk of my
life's blood. Give that Indian a knife and fair play in a combat
against the prowess of the valiant Don Juan de Dios Carasco.'

"Although greatly disconcerted, Juan de Dios had to toe the mark.
There was no alternative for him now, as I was desperate and my
orders were obeyed to the letter, for death was the penalty for
disobedience. The fight between the Mexican and the Indian ended by
the Navajo, who was sorely wounded, throwing his knife into the heart
of his enemy. It was a fair fight, although we accorded Juan de Dios,
he being a Christian, this advantage against the Indian (who was
better skilled in the use of weapons) that we allowed him to wrap his
coat about his left arm as a shield, while the Indian was stripped to
his patarague, or breechclout. We buried the body and allowed the
Indian to shift for himself. I observed him crawling near the water's
edge in quest of herbs, which he masticated and applied to his wounds
with an outer coating of mud from the banks of the stream. During the
following night he disappeared. I suspect that the golden nuggets
which caused all our troubles were taken from the body of a
prospector who had been murdered in the lonesome mountains of Arizona.

"We allowed our horses several days' rest to recuperate before