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.

"Then the stuff was off and she opened up in earnest. They fought all
right. I was on my knee pumping lead for dear life, and as I threw my
carbine down to refill the magazine, a bullet struck it in the heel of
the magazine with sufficient force to knock me backward. I thought I
was hit for an instant, but it passed away in a moment. When I tried
to work the lever I saw that my carbine was ruined. I called to the
boys to notice a fellow with black whiskers who was shooting from
behind his horse. He would shoot over and under alternately. I