me, and I demanded a retraction and an apology therefor from the
Indian. When the macho flatly refused and repeated the insult in a
more aggravating manner, I replied that I feared not to meet him or
any other goatherding Indian and was ready to fight him on the spot.

Saying this, I dismounted and threw my horse's bridle to my friend
Reyes to hold. Then the cacique, or Pueblo chief, the father of
Jtz-Li-Cama, appeared and demanded our weapons. "I shall not
interfere in this fight, senores," said he, "if you surrender your
weapons to me, the lawful alguacil (officer) of this district." He
then took the macho's knife, and I gave him my revolver and stripped
for the fray.

I advanced and scratched a circle of about twelve feet diameter in
the deep sand with my foot, then I stepped to the center of this ring
and awaited my antagonist. I cautioned my friend Reyes to see to it
that no one else overstepped the line. To the lonely sand dunes of
the Rio Grande unwittingly I thus introduced the manly sport of the
prize ring. But the battle was not fought for lucre or fame, nor
according to the London Prize Ring Rules; it was fought in defense of
a friend's honor, and the stake was life or death. The Indian made a
rush for me, but I avoided him and warded off his blows. I did not
touch him till I saw my chance, and then I tapped him under the chin
which sent him sprawling. He arose promptly and came for me in a
rage, when I felled him with a blow on the head. Again he came, and
this time he gave me a stunning blow in the face, which maddened me
so, that I took the offensive and laid him low with a terrific hit. I
was now thoroughly infuriated and threw all caution to the winds.
When he arose once more, I attacked him. He took to his heels and I
followed him up. I noticed then that the whole crowd of Indians were