LIFE IN THE FAB WEST 211 



hidalgo, encumbered with his cloak, and waving with 

 difficulty his sword above his head. To the priest and 

 women, who implored him to enter, he replied with 

 cries of defiance, " Viva Carlos Quinto," and " Death or 

 glory." He shouted in vain to the flying crowd to 

 halt ; but, seeing their panic was beyond hope, he 

 clutched his weapon more firmly as the Americans 

 dashed at him, closed his teeth and his eyes, thought 

 once of the vega of his beloved Genii, and of Granada 

 la Florida, and gave himself up for lost. Those inside 

 the Mission, when they observed the flight of their 

 cavalry, gave up the defence as hopeless ; and already 

 the charging mountaineers were almost under the walls, 

 when they observed the curious figure of the little Don 

 making demonstrations of hostility. 



"Wagh!" exclaimed the leading hunter, (no other 

 than our friend La Bonte,) " here's a little crittur as 

 means to do all the fighting ; " and seizing his rifle by 

 the barrel, he poked at the Don with the but-end, 

 who parried the blow, and with such a sturdy stroke, as 

 nearly severed the stock in two. Another mountaineer 

 rode up, and, swinging his lasso overhead, threw the 

 noose dexterously over the Spaniard's head, and as it 

 fell over his shoulders, drew it taut, thus securing the 

 arms of the pugnacious Don as in a vice. 



" Quartel !" cried the latter ; " por Dios, quartel !" 



"Quarter be d !" exclaimed one of the whites, 



who understood Spanish ; " who's agoin' to hurt you, 

 you little crittur ] " 



By this time Fray Augustin was waving a white flag 



