[Illustration: 02 A BEARER OF CIVILIZATION]
“Then you do not think much of a lance as a weapon?” I pursued.
“No; there is but one weapon. The six-shooter when properly handled is the only weapon--mind you, sir, I say _properly”_ and here the old eyes blinked rapidly over the great art as he knew its practice.
“Then, of course, the rifle has its use. Under Captain Jack Hayes sixty of us made a raid once after the celebrated priest-leader of the Mexicans--Padre Jarante--which same was a devil of a fellow. We were very sleepy--had been two nights without sleep. At San Juan every man stripped his horse, fed, and went to sleep. We had passed Padre Jarante in the night without knowing it. At about twelve o'clock next day there was a terrible outcry--I was awakened by shooting. The Padre was upon us. Five men outlying stood the charge, and went under. We gathered, and the Padre charged three times. The third time he was knocked from his horse and killed. Then Captain Jack Hayes awoke, and we got in a big _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.