dick replenished his pipe and prepared to rest, after his tale was completed, when frank suddenly inquired:
“dick, how came that scar on your face?”
the “scar” frank had reference to, was an ugly-looking wen, extending entirely across the trapper’s face, and completely “spilin’ his good looks,” as he sometimes used to remark.
“that war done in a fight with some tarnal greasers,” answered dick. “i come mighty nigh havin’ my neck stretched that night, an’ the way it happened war this:”
after a few whiffs at his pipe, he continued:
“when our government war settlin’ our little dispute with the mexikin greasers, i, like a good many other trappers, thought that i should like to take a hand in the muss. i hate a greaser wusser nor i do an injun. so, arter a little talk, me an’ bill jined a company o’ rangers that war raised by an ole trapper we used to call cap’n steele. a’most every man in the company war a trapper or hunter, for the cap’n wouldn’t take only them as could show the claws o’ three or four grizzlies they had rubbed out, an’ as many injun scalps.
“wal, when we got together, i reckon we war about the roughest lookin’ set o’ men you ever see. each one dressed as suited him best, an’ all armed with rifles, tomahawks, an’ huntin’-knives. but our looks didn’t seem to set ole gen’ral taylor agin us, for when we rode up to his camp, an’ our cap’n had told him what we war, an’ what we could do, he seemed mighty glad to see us; and we war sent to onct to the quarter-master, an’ detailed to take care o’ his cattle an’ hosses, fight guerrillas, an’ carry letters from one place to another. we knowed the country purty well, for there were few of us that hadn’t traveled over it more’n onct in our lives; but whenever we war sent off anywhere we used to have a mexikin guide, who showed us the short cuts through the mountains.
“wal, just arter the battle o’ monterey, our company war cut up into little squads, an’ scattered all over the country; some went with the gen’ral, an’ some war put in cap’n morgan’s company, an’ sent scoutin’ around, an’ four of us war left at monterey with the quarter-master.
“one day ole bill come to me an’ said:
“‘dick, the kurnel wants to see you. i guess he’s got some business for you to ’tend to.’
“i went up to the head-quarters, an’ the kurnel told me that he had some very important letters which he wanted to send to major davis, who was then stationed at a little town called alamo, an’ as i had the finest hoss in the town, he thought it best to send me. alamo war on the other side o’ the mountains, an’ about a hundred an’ fifty miles off. as the kurnel had said, i had the best hoss in the hull camp, an’, in course, it wouldn’t have been no trouble to have gone there if the country had been clear—the ride wasn’t nothin’; but the mexikins war comin’ down toward monterey, an’ the kurnel thought that they war goin’ to try to take the city from us agin. i knowed there war danger in it, but i didn’t mind that. i war used to it, an’ if i got into a scrape, it wouldn’t be the first one i war in; so i started off arter my hoss, an’ in a few minits i war ready an’ waitin’ at the kurnel’s door for the letters. purty soon he come out an’ give ’em to me, sayin’:
“‘now, dick, be mighty keerful of ’em, ’cause there’s some news in ’em that i shouldn’t like to have the mexikins get hold of. this man,’ pintin’ to a greaser that stood a little behind me, holdin’ his hoss, ‘will be your guide. he knows all about the mountains.’ then, movin’ up a little closer to me, he whispered: ‘he’ll bear watchin’, i think; i don’t know much about him, but he is the only man i have got to send with you, an’ them letters must be in major davis’s hands by to-morrow night.’
“‘all right, kurnel,’ i answered; ‘i’ll look out for him. i never see a greaser yet that could pull the wool over my eyes. i’ll give the letters to major davis afore this time to-morrow. good by.’ an’ me an’ the guide rid off.
“as soon as i had got out of the city, i turned to have a look at my guide, an’ i thought, as the kurnel had said, that he would bear watchin’. he war the most villainous lookin’ mexikin i ever sot eyes on. he war a young feller, not more’n twenty-two or twenty-three year old; but he had an eye that looked like an eagle’s, an’ it wasn’t still a minit. he war dressed in a reg’lar greaser’s rig, with a slouch hat, short jacket, all covered with gold lace, an’ pantaloons, wide at the bottom, an’ open on the side as far as his knees. he had a splendid hoss, an’ war armed with a carbine, short saber, an’ a lasso; an’ i knowed that if me an’ him got into a muss, that lasso would bother me more’n his sword or shootin’-iron. the greasers, as a gen’ral thing, ain’t no great shakes at shootin’, an’ in a rough-an’-tumble fight they ain’t nowhere; but them ar raw-hide lassoes ar the meanest things in the world to fight; they’ll have one of ’em around your neck afore you know it. i had a little experience in that line afore i got back. arter we had got outside o’ the pickets a little way, he turned in his saddle, an’ tried to commence a talk with me in spanish; but i made him believe that i couldn’t understand a word he said. i thought that if i should tell him that i couldn’t talk his lingo, it would make him a little keerless; an’ so it did.
“we rid all day as fast as our hosses could travel, an’ afore dark we got acrost the mountains, an’ stopped afore a little house, where the guide said would be a good place to pass the night. i didn’t much like the idee; had rather camp right down in the woods; but, in course, that would only put him on the look-out, an’ i knowed that the best way to do war to act as though i thought every thing war all right. a man come to the gate as we rid up, an’, as soon as he see my guide, he touched his hat to him in reg’lar soldier style. the guide answered the salute, an’ asked the man, in spanish:
“‘are you alone, josé?’
“‘yes, gen’ral,’ answered the man. then making a slight motion toward me, which, i made believe i didn’t notice, he asked:
“‘but the american?’
“’o, he can’t understand spanish,’ said my rascally guide. ‘no fear of him; he thinks it’s all right. did you receive my letter?’
“‘yes, gen’ral,’ answered the man, touching his hat agin.
“‘don’t make so many motions, you fool,’ said my guide; ‘the american is not blind. you got my letter all right, you say? then bastian, with five hundred men, will be here at midnight?’
“‘yes, gen’ral.’
“the guide seemed satisfied, for he got off his hoss, an’ motioned me, with a good many smiles an’ grimaces, to do the same. i could see that i war in a purty tight place, an’ i had a good notion to draw one o’ my six-shooters an’ kill both o’ the rascals where they stood. but, thinks i, there may be more of these yere yaller-bellies around here somewhere, an’ besides, if i wait, i may get a chance to capture the gen’ral, for my guide war none other than gen’ral cortinas, an’ one o’ the best officers the mexikins had. he had bothered us more’n their hull army, an’ the kurnel had offered to give a thousand dollars for him alive, or five hundred for his scalp. i didn’t care a snap for the money, ’cause it warn’t no use to me on the prairy; all i wanted war a good kentucky rifle, plenty o’ powder an’ lead, an’ a good hoss, an’ i war satisfied. but i wanted to capture that gen’ral, an’ take him into camp, for he war a nuisance. in battle he never showed no quarter, an’ if he tuk any prisoners, it war only that he might let his men try their hands at shootin’. he seemed to understand fightin’ better nor the rest o’ the mexikins, an’ it showed that he war a brave feller when he would come right into camp, with sich a price sot on his head.
“i warn’t long in makin’ up my mind what i ought to do, an’ i got down off my hoss, as though there warn’t a greaser within a hundred miles o’ me; but, instead o’ givin the hoss into charge o’ the man, i hit him a cut with my whip that sent him flyin’ up the road. i knowed that he wouldn’t be far off when i wanted him, an’ i knowed, too, that my saddle an’ pistols war safe, ’cause nobody couldn’t ketch him besides me. arter goin’ a little way up the road, he turned an’ looked back, an’ then jumped over a hedge into a field, an’ begun to eat. i could see that the mexikins didn’t like it a bit, for they looked at each other an’ scowled, an’ josé said:
“‘carrajo! do you s’pose the american suspects any thing, gen’ral?’
“‘it don’t make no difference whether he does or not, said my guide, turnin’ on his heel, an’ motionin’ me to follow him to the house; ‘he’s in our power, an’ don’t leave this place alive.’
“now, you wouldn’t have called that very pleasant news, i take it. wal, it did make me feel rather onpleasant; but i didn’t exactly believe what the ole rascal had said about my not goin’ away alive. thinks i, shootin’ is a game two can play at, an’ as long as you don’t bring them tarnal lassoes round, i’m all right. i had never seed a six-shooter afore i went into the army, but i had l’arnt to use ’em a’most as well as i could my rifle. i found that they war mighty handy things in a fight. i had four of ’em, two in my huntin’-shirt, and two had gone off with my hoss; an’ i knowed that when the time come i could get up a nice little fight for the greasers.
“there war only two women in the house, an’ they seemed mighty glad to see him, an’ sot out a cheer for him; but they scowled at me, an’ left me to stand up. but that didn’t trouble me none, for i helped myself to a seat, an’ listened to what my guide war sayin’ to ’em. he war mighty perlite, an’ talked an’ laughed, an’ told the women as how he war goin’ to rub me out as soon as his men come; an’ then he war goin’ to pitch into cap’n morgan, who war out scoutin’ with his company, an’ had camped a little piece back in the mountains.
“it war the kurnel’s order that i should see him as we passed through the mountains, an’ send him to monterey to onct, afore the mexikins could ketch him. but my rascally guide had heered the order, an’ had led me out o’ my way, so that i shouldn’t see him. i listened with both my ears, an’ arter i had heered all the rascal’s plans, which were purty nicely laid out for a boy, i made up my mind that he would be a leetle disappointed when he tried to ketch cap’n morgan.
“in a little while the man that had tuk charge o’ the gen’ral’s hoss come in, an’ i soon found out that he war the man that war expected to do the business of cuttin’ my throat. but the gen’ral told him not to try it till midnight, when he would have plenty of men to back him up. this showed me that, brave as the young greaser war when leadin’ his men, he didn’t like the idee o’ pitchin’ into an american single-handed. i guess he knowed by my looks that i could do some purty good fightin’.
“arter eatin’ a hearty supper, an’ smokin’ a cigar with the gen’ral, i wrapped myself up in my blanket, which i had tuk from my saddle afore lettin’ my hoss go, an’ laid myself away in one corner of the room. the mexikins didn’t like this, an’ one o’ the women made me understand by signs that there war a bed for me up stairs. but i thought that my chances for escape would be much better where i war; so i motioned her to go away, an’ pretended to go to sleep. the gen’ral an’ his man had a long talk about it, an’ i expected every minit to hear him tell the feller to shoot me. if he had, it would have been the signal for his own death, for i had both my revolvers under my blanket. but no sich order war given, an’ finally the gen’ral, arter tellin’ the man to keep a good watch on me, went into another room an’ went to bed, an’ his man stretched himself out on his cloak, right afore the door.
“wal, i waited about two hours for him to go to sleep, an’ then made up my mind that i might as well be travelin’. so i throwed off my blanket an’ war risin’ to my feet, when ‘bang’ went the feller’s pistol, an’ the bullet whizzed by my head an’ went into the wall. i warn’t more’n ten feet from him, an’ i’ll be blamed if he didn’t miss me. the next minit i had him by the throat, an’ a blow from the butt of one o’ my six-shooters done the work for him. i dragged him away from the door, jumped down the steps, an’ made tracks through the garden.
“the night war purty dark, but i knowed which way to go to get out o’ the yard, which war surrounded by a palin’ eight foot high. you’d better believe i run some; but i hadn’t gone twenty yards from the house afore i run slap agin somebody. i thought at first that it war the gen’ral, an’ i muzzled him. ‘carrajo! what does this mean?’ said the mexikin, in spanish. as soon as i heered his voice, i knowed that he warn’t the feller i wanted; most likely he war one o’ the men the gen’ral had been expectin’; so i give him a settler with my knife, an’ tuk to my heels agin.
“the pistol that the mexikin had fired in the house had set the women a goin’; an’, when i reached the fence, i heered ’em yellin’ an’ wailin’ over the feller i had knocked down. i didn’t stop to listen to ’em, but jumped over into the field where my hoss war, an’ commenced whistlin’ for him. i thought he war a long while a coming an’ i ran along whistlin’, an’ wonderin’ where he had gone to. purty soon i heered his whinny, an’ see him comin’ toward me like mad; an’ right behind him war three or four mexikins, with their lassoes all ready to ketch him. but my hoss war leavin’ ’em behind fast; for the way he could climb over the ground when he onct made up his mind to run, war a caution to them greasers. he come right up to me, an’ in a minit i war on his back.
“i now felt safe. the first thing i did war to pull out my huntin’-knife an’ fasten it to my wrist with a piece o’ buckskin; then, drawin’ one o’ my revolvers, i turned in my saddle, an’ thought i would stir up the greasers a little, when all to onct somethin’ struck me in the face like a club, an’ i war lifted from my saddle clean as a whistle, and the next minit i war bumpin’ an’ draggin’ over the ground in a mighty onpleasant kind of a way. one o’ the greasers had slipped his lasso over me, an’ war pullin’ me along as fast as his hoss could travel. i fell right flat on my face, an’ every step the greaser’s hoss tuk plowed my nose in the ground, an’ my eyes war so full o’ dirt an’ blood that i could scarcely see.
“but i war not quite so fast as the greaser had thought for. the lasso hadn’t gone down round my neck, but had ketched jest above my chin. i hadn’t never been in sich a mighty onpleasant fix afore, but i warn’t long in gettin’ my wits about me. reachin’ up with my huntin’-knife, i made a slash at the lasso, an’ the next minit wor standin’ on my feet agin. i had hung onto my revolver, an’, drawin’ a bead on the greaser that had ketched me, i tumbled him from his saddle in a twinklin’. my hoss hadn’t run an inch arter i war pulled off his back, an’ i war soon in the saddle agin.
“i knowed i war safe now, for, as i galloped over the field, i see the greasers travelin’ down the road as though gen’ral taylor’s army war arter ’em. they war three to my one, but didn’t think themselves a match for a single american.”
