_casa._ The men took to the roof. As the Mexicans passed we emptied a
great many saddles. As I got to the top of the _casa_ I found two men
quarrelling." (Here the Colonel chuckled.) "I asked what the matter was,
and they were both claiming to have killed a certain Mexican who was
lying dead some way off. One said he had hit him in the head, and the
other said he had hit him in the breast. I advised peace until after the
fight. Well--after the shooting was over and the Padre's men had had
enough, we went out to the particular Mexican who was dead, and, sure
enough, he was shot in the head and in the breast; so they laughed and
made peace. About this time one of the spies came in and reported six
hundred Mexicans coming. We made an examination of our ammunition, and
found that we couldn't afford to fight six hundred Mexicans with sixty
men, so we pulled out. This was in the Mexican war, and only goes to
show that Captain Hayes's men could shoot all the Mexicans that could
get to them if the ammunition would hold out."

"What was the most desperate fight you can remember, Colonel?"

The old man hesitated; this required a particular point of view--it was
quality, not quantity, wanted now; and, to be sure, he was a
connoisseur. After much study by the Colonel, during which the world
lost many thrilling tales, the one which survived occurred in 1851.

"My lieutenant, Ed Burleson, was ordered to carry to San Antonio an
Indian prisoner we had taken and turned over to the commanding officer
at Fort Mclntosh. On his return, while nearing the Nueces River, he
spied a couple of Indians. Taking seven men, he ordered the balance to
continue along the road. The two Indians proved to be fourteen, and they
charged Burleson up to the teeth. Dismounting his men, he poured it into
them from his Colt's six-shooting rifles. They killed or wounded all