Nevertheless we, the officers, could not repress a feeling of anxiety and self-reproach, when we reflected that we had brought our comrades into such a hazardous predicament.  But on looking around us, our apprehensions vanished.  Nothing could exceed the perfect coolness and confidence with which the men were cleaning and preparing their rifles for the approaching conflict; no bravado—­no boasting, talking, or laughing, but a calm decision of manner, which at once told us, that if it were possible to overcome such odds as were brought against us, those were the men to do it.

Our arrangements for the approaching struggle were soon completed.  Fanning and Wharton were to make head against the infantry and cavalry.  I was to capture the field-piece—­an eight-pounder.

This gun was placed by the Mexicans upon their extreme left, close to the river, the shores of which it commanded for a considerable distance.  The bank on which we were posted was, as before mentioned, indented by caves and hollows, and covered with a thick tapestry of vines and other plants, which was now very useful in concealing us from the artillerymen.  The latter made a pretty good guess at our position however, and at the first discharge, the canister whizzed past us at a very short distance.  There was not a moment to lose, for one well-directed shot might exterminate half of us.  Followed by a dozen men, I worked my way as well as I could through the labyrinth of vines and bushes, and was not more than fifty yards from the gun, when it was again fired.  No one was hurt, although the shot was evidently intended for my party.  The enemy could not see us; but the notion of the vines, as we passed through them, had betrayed our whereabout:  so, perceiving that we were discovered, I sprang up the bank into the prairie followed by my men, to whom I shouted, above all to aim at the artillerymen.

I had raised my own rifle to my shoulder, when I let it fall again in astonishment at an apparition that presented itself to my view.  This was a tall, lean, wild figure, with a face overgrown by long beard that hung down upon his breast, and dressed in a leather cap, jacket, and mocassins.  Where this man had sprung from was a perfect riddle.  He was unknown to any of us, although I had some vague recollection of having seen him before, but where or when, I could not call to mind.  He had a long rifle in his hands, which he must have fired once already, for one of the artillerymen lay dead by the gun.  At the moment I first caught sight of him, he shot down another, and then began reloading with a rapid dexterity, that proved him to be well used to the thing.  My men were as much astonished as I was by this strange apparition, which appeared to have started out of the earth; and for a few seconds they forgot to fire, and stood gazing at the stranger.  The latter did not seem to approve of their inaction.

“D——­ yer eyes, ye starin’ fools,” shouted he in a rough hoarse voice, “don’t ye see them art’lerymen?  Why don’t ye knock ’em on the head?”