“It was night before we came to their trail, and to our surprise they were heading inland, to the north.  They must have had a contract to supply the Mexican army with cavalry horses.  They were simply sweeping the country, taking nothing but gentle stock.  These they bucked in strings, and led.  That made easy trailing, as each string left a distinct trail.  The moon was splendid that night, and we trailed as easily as though it had been day.  We didn’t halt all night long on either trail, pegging along at a steady gait, that would carry us inland some distance before morning.  Our scouts aroused every ranch within miles that we passed on the way, only to have reports exaggerated as usual.  One thing we did learn that night, and that was that the robbers were led by a white man.  He was described in the superlatives that the Spanish language possesses abundantly; everything from the horse he rode to the solid braid on his sombrero was described in the same strain.  But that kind of prize was the kind we were looking for.

“On the head of the Arroyo Colorado there is a broken country interspersed with glades and large openings.  We felt very sure that the robbers would make camp somewhere in that country.  When day broke the freshness of the trail surprised and pleased us.  They couldn’t be far away.  Before an hour passed, we noticed a smoke cloud hanging low in the morning air about a mile ahead.  We dismounted and securely tied our horses and pack stock.  Every man took all the cartridges he could use, and was itching for the chance to use them.  We left the trail, and to conceal ourselves took to the brush or dry arroyos as a protection against alarming the quarry.  They were a quarter of a mile off when we first sighted them.  We began to think the reports were right, for there seemed no end of horses, and at least twenty-five men.  By dropping back we could gain one of those dry arroyos which would bring us within one hundred yards of their camp.  A young fellow by the name of Rusou, a crack shot, was acting captain in the absence of our officers.  As we backed into the arroyo he said to us, ’If there’s a white man there, leave him to me.’  We were all satisfied that he would be cared for properly at Rusou’s hands, and silence gave consent.

“Opposite the camp we wormed out of the arroyo like a skirmish line, hugging the ground for the one remaining little knoll between the robbers and ourselves.  I was within a few feet of Rusou as we sighted the camp about seventy-five yards distant.  We were trying to make out a man that was asleep, at least he had his hat over his face, lying on a blanket with his head in a saddle.  We concluded he was a white man, if there was one.  Our survey of their camp was cut short by two shots fired at us by two pickets of theirs posted to our left about one hundred yards.  No one was hit, but the sleeping man jumped to his feet with a six-shooter in each hand.  I heard Rusou say to himself, ’You’re too late, my friend.’  His carbine spoke, and the fellow fell forward, firing both guns into the ground at his feet as he went down.