but that isn’t all the story,” said the trapper, again filling his pipe. “as soon as the greasers had got out o’ sight, i galloped back toward the road an’ tuk the back track, intendin’ to find cap’n morgan, an’ tell him that the mexikins were kalkerlatin’ on ketchin’ him, an’ then go on with my dispatches.
“i had paid purty good attention to what the gen’ral had told the women, an’ i knowed exactly what road to take to find the cap’n’s camp; an’ you’d better believe i rid some. purty soon some one yelled out:
“‘who goes there?’
“‘friend!’ i shouted, ’an’ i want to see cap’n morgan to onct. i’ve got some news for him.’
“you’d better believe the ole cap’n opened his eyes when i told him my story; an’ arter furnishin’ me with a fresh hoss—the best one in the camp—he set to work gettin’ ready for the greasers. i didn’t much like the idee o’ startin’ out agin, for i didn’t know the short cuts through the country as well as i ought to, an’ the cap’n had no guide to send with me. but i knowed that them letters must be in alamo by night, an’ i shouldn’t ever be able to look ole bill lawson in the face agin if i didn’t obey my orders; so, arter biddin’ the boys good-by, an’ wishin’ ’em good luck in fightin’ the mexikins, i set out.
“i did plenty of doublin’ an’ twistin’ to get clear o’ the greasers, for i met ’em about half way atween the mountains an’ the house where we had stopped, goin’ up to ketch the cap’n. they war in high spirits, but when they come down agin, about two hours arterward, they were runnin’ like white-heads, an’ the texas boys were close at their heels.
“i war used to hard work, but when i got off my hoss that night in alamo, i war about as tired a man as you ever see. two days arterward i war back in monterey agin. ole bill didn’t know me, for my face war purty well cut up. i told him the story of the mexikin gen’ral, an’ arter talkin’ the matter over, me an’ him concluded we would capture that greaser, an’ started up to head-quarters to have a talk with the kurnel about it.
“‘you can’t do it, boys,’ says he. ‘if cortinas war an injun, you would be jist the fellers to do it; but you don’t know enough about soldierin’. howsomever, you can try.’
“the next mornin’, when me an’ bill rid up to the kurnel’s head-quarters to bid him good-by, you wouldn’t a knowed us. we had pulled off our huntin’-shirts an’ leggins, an’ war dressed in reg’lar mexikin style. we left our rifles behind, an’ tuk carbines in their place. we didn’t like to do this; but if we had carried our long shootin’-irons into a mexikin camp, any one would a knowed what we war. we had our six-shooters and huntin’-knives stowed away in our jackets.
“‘good-by, kurnel,’ said bill, shakin’ the ole soldier’s hand. ‘we’ll ketch that greaser, or you’ll never see us agin.’
“‘do your best, boys,’ said the kurnel. ‘bring back the greaser, an’ the thousand dollars are yourn.’
“we follered the same path that the gen’ral had led me—takin’ keer not to ride too fast, ’cause we didn’t know what we might have for our hosses to do—an’ afore dark we come to the house where me an’ my guide had stopped, an’ knocked at the gate. when it war opened we could see that the place war full o’ greasers; but that didn’t trouble us any, for we knowed that we should have to go into their camp if we wanted to ketch the gen’ral. we told the greaser that come to the gate, that we were mexikin soldiers, an’ wanted to stay there all night, an’ he war as perlite as we could wish—asked us to walk in, an’ sent a man to take keer of our hosses.
“this war the first time we had met a soldier in our new rig, an’ we were a little afeered that he might diskiver who we were; but we could both talk spanish as well as he could, an’ the rascal didn’t suspect us.
“we asked to see the commandin’ officer, an’ when we found him we reported to him as scouts belongin’ to gen’ral santa anna’s head-quarters, an’ that we had come with very important news for gen’ral cortinas. what that news was we didn’t know ourselves; but we knowed that we could get up a purty good story when the time come.
“‘all right,’ said the greaser cap’n. ‘i’m goin’ up to gen’ral cortinas’ camp to-morrow, an’ you can ride right up with me.’
“we touched our hats to him an’ left the room. i hated mighty bad to salute that dirty greaser jest as i would my kurnel. i had rather put a bullet in his yaller hide; but we war in for it, an’ we knowed that the hull thing depended on our behavin’ ourselves properly. as we passed out o’ the house we met the women, an’ i begun to shake in my boots agin, ’cause i knowed them women had sharp eyes, an’ i war afeered it war all up with us. but they didn’t suspect nothin’, an’ i knowed that we war safe; ’cause if they couldn’t see through the game we war playin’, nobody could.
“wal, we went out into the yard an’ eat supper, an’ lay down around the fire with them ar dirty mexikins, an’ listened to their insultin’ talk agin the americans, an’, in course, jined in with ’em. they thought me an’ ole bill war lucky dogs in bein’ with a great gen’ral like santa anna; but i couldn’t see what there war great in a man who, with an army o’ fifty thousand men, would run from six thousand. but we told ’em a good many things about the gen’ral that i guess they never heered afore, an’ we hadn’t heered of ’em neither; but they believed every thing we said war gospel truth, an’ we made our kalkerlations that in less nor a month the american army would all be prisoners.
“the next mornin’ we made an ’arly start, an’ that arternoon drew up in the mexikin camp. it war a purty sight, i tell you—nothin’ to be seen but white tents as far as our eyes could reach. there warn’t less nor a hundred thousand men in that ar camp, an’ i begun to feel rather shaky when i thought of our small army at monterey. while me an’ bill war lookin’ about, a spruce little greaser come up, an’ said that gen’ral cortinas war waitin’ to see us. we found the rascal in a large tent, with a sentry afore the door, an’ when i sot eyes on him, my fingers ached to ketch him by the throat. he looked jest as he did when me an’ him set out from monterey together, only he had on a blue uniform.
“‘wal, boys,’ said he, smilin’ an’ motionin’ us to set down, ‘i understand that you’re from gen’ral santa anna, an’ have news for me.’
“‘yes, gen’ral,’ said ole bill, takin’ off his slouch-hat, an’ scratchin’ his head as if thinkin’ what to say. ‘we’ve got news for you. if you want to ketch cap’n morgan an’ his band o’ cutthroats, i’ll tell you jest how you can do it.’
“‘how can it be done, my good feller,’ said the gen’ral, rubbin’ his hands. ‘i thought i should capture him the other night, but he had too many men for me.’
“‘wal,’ said ole bill, ‘me an’ this feller here’—pintin’ to me—’war in monterey yesterday, an’ heered an order read to cap’n morgan to march out o’ the city at midnight, an’ jine cap’n davis at alamo. now, if you want to ketch him, all you have got to do is to take fifty men, an’ wait for him in the mountains. he has got jest twenty-eight men in his company.’
“‘i’ll do it,’ said the greaser. ‘but i’ll take a hundred men, to make sure of him. which road is he going to take?’
“‘that’s what we can’t tell exactly,’ said ole bill. ‘but me an’ this feller thought that we would come an’ tell you, so that you could have every thing ready, an’ then go back and find out all their plans.’
“‘very well,’ said the greaser; an’, arter writin’ somethin’ on a piece o’ paper, he handed it to ole bill, sayin’: ‘here’s a pass for you an’ your friend to go in an’ out o’ the lines whenever you please. now, you go back to monterey, an’ find out all cap’n morgan’s plans, an’ i’ll go out with a hundred men an’ ketch him.’
“this war exactly what me an’ bill wanted. we were afeered at first that he would send some one else instead o’ goin’ himself; but now we knowed that we war all right; the gen’ral war ourn, an’ no mistake.
“as soon as we got out o’ sight o’ the camp, we made good time, an’ afore midnight we war in the kurnel’s head-quarters. as soon as he heered our story, he sent for one o’ his officers, an’ told him to march ’arly the next evenin’ with eighty men, an’ draw up an ambush, in a deep gorge, through which ran the road that led to alamo. an’ he ordered cap’n morgan, who had reached monterey the day afore, to be ready to march through that gorge at midnight.
“arter me an’ bill had rested a little while, we set out on fresh hosses, an’, in a few hours, were back in the mexikin camp agin. that arternoon we rid out, side by side, with gen’ral cortinas, an’ about ten o’clock in the evenin’ we reached the gorge. every thing war as silent as death; but i knowed that eighty western rifles war stowed away among the trees, on each side o’ the road, an’ behind ’em war sturdy hunters an’ trappers, achin’ to send a bullet in among us.
“arter the gen’ral had fixed his men to suit him, we drawed back into the bushes, an’ waited for cap’n morgan to come up. jest a little afore midnight we heered a faint tramp, an’ in a few minits the rangers swept down into the gorge. for a minit nothin’ war heered but the noise o’ their hosses’ hoofs on the road. it war a fine sight to see them brave men ridin’ right down into that ambush, knowin’, as they did, that death war on each side o’ them. nigher an’ nigher they come; an’ the gen’ral war about to give the order to fire, when, all to onct, a yell like an injun’s burst from among the trees, an’ the reports of eighty rifles echoed through the mountains. you never seed a more astonished greaser nor that gen’ral cortinas war about that time.
“‘carrajo,’ he yelled, ‘you have betrayed me.’
“‘shouldn’t wonder if we had, you tarnal yaller-hided scoundrel,’ said ole bill; an’ afore the greaser could make a move, we had him by the arms, an’ two six-shooters were lookin’ him in the face. his cowardly men didn’t fire a shot, but throwed down their guns, an’ run in every direction. but our boys closed up about ’em, an’ out o’ them ar hundred men that come out to ketch cap’n morgan, not half a dozen escaped. the only prisoner we tuk back to monterey war the gen’ral.”
after dick had got through his tale, the hunters held a consultation over the state of their larder. as their coffee, bread, and other supplies were exhausted, and they did not like the idea of living on venison and water, they concluded to break up camp. the next morning they packed their baggage into the sled, and, taking a last look at the place where they had spent so many happy hours, set out for uncle joe’s cabin, which they reached a little before dark.
