continued he, pointing to the Mexicans, who were crowding over the river, “are jest the most cowardly of ’em all, for in their fright they quite forgot the ford, and it’s because they ran so far beyond it, that they are last to cross the water.  And if you fire at ’em now, they’ll find that they get nothin’ by bein’ cowards, and next time, I reckon, they’ll sell their hides as dear as they can.”

Untimely as this palaver, to use a popular word, undoubtedly was, we could scarcely forbear smiling at the simple naive manner in which the old Yankee spoke his mind.

“Calkilate, captings,” he concluded, “you’d better let the poor devils run.  We shall get more profit by it than if we shot five hundred of ’em.  Next time they’ll run away directly to show their gratitude for our ginerosity.”

The man stepped back into the ranks, and his comrades nodded approvingly, and calculated and reckoned that Zebediah had spoke a true word; and meanwhile the enemy had crossed the river, and was out of our reach.  We were forced to content ourselves with sending a party across the water to follow up the Mexicans, and observe the direction they took.  We then returned to our old position.

My first thought on arriving there was to search for the body of Bob Rock—­for he it undoubtedly was, who had so mysteriously appeared amongst us.  I repaired to the spot where I had seen him fall; but could discover no signs of him, either dead or alive.  I went over the whole scene of the fight, searched amongst the vines and along the bank of the river; there were plenty of dead Mexicans—­cavalry, infantry, and artillery, but no Bob was to be found, nor could any one inform me what had become of him, although several had seen him fall.

I was continuing my search, when I met Wharton, who asked me what I was seeking, and on learning, shook his head gravely.  He had seen the wild prairieman, he said, but whence he came, or whither he was gone, was more than he could tell.  It was a long time since any thing had startled and astonished him so much as this man’s appearance and proceedings.  He (Wharton,) had been stationed with his party amongst the vines, about fifty paces in rear of Fanning’s people, when just as the Mexican infantry had crossed the ford, and were forming up, he saw a man approaching at a brisk trot from the north side of the prairie.  He halted about a couple of hundred yards from Wharton, tied his mustang to a bush, and with his rifle on his arm, strode along the edge of the prairie in the direction of the Mexicans.  When he passed near Wharton, the latter called out to him to halt, and say who he was, whence he came, and whither going.

“Who I am is no business of yourn,” replied the man:  “nor where I come from neither.  You’ll soon see where I’m goin’.  I’m goin’ agin’ the enemy.”

“Then you must come and join us,” cried Wharton.

This the stranger testily refused to do.  He’d fight on his own hook, he said.