THE FIGHT UNDER THE MESQUITE 
little scary-eyed rabbit peered at him from 
behind a cactus; the blue quails hushed 
their calls as he rode by. But Don 
Ramon heard nor saw none of these, for his 
mind was filled with his plans of the mucho 
grande swath he was going to cut with the 
dusky senoritas at the Cinco de Mayo cele- 
bration at Brownsville. 
By and by the rustler neared the range of 
the “CS” cattle, and then he was on the 
lookout. And when from the shade of a large 
mesquite at the mouth of a draw a fine 
eight-point buck jumped out, ran up a little 
distance and stopped to gaze at him, it 
passed through his mind in an instant that 
venison would bring him twice as much as 
beef, and accordingly he pulled the .44 Win- 
chester from its scabbard and with a quick 
shot broke both forelegs of the animal just 
above the pasterns; another shot a little bet- 
ter placed brought it to the ground, and the 
Don stopped his cayuse, threw the reins 
over its head, jumped off, turned the ox 
loose and was soon skinning the buck in 
the shade. 
In a little while there was a rustling in 
the cactus to the right and up the hill, but, 
thinking it was his companion in crime, the 
coyote, waiting for the remains, the rustler 
paid no attention; after a few moments the 
commotion increased, and simultaneously 
pony and ox took off down the trail in stiff- 
legged, high-tailed fright. Now, it was well- 
known to our caballero that, in the early 
springtime particularly, a grizzly bear is a 
bad customer to deal with. Furthermore, 
his rifle was rapidly on the way back to 
-Brownsville in its scabbard,on the pony. 
So the Don made a run for it, and was up 
the old thorny mesquite in less time than it 
takes to tell it. For all the attention he got 
from the ugly beast below, however, he 
might have safely gone after the pony; Old 
Eph was quite satisfied with the buck. But 
to sit there dangling one’s heels, perhaps 
within a long reach of the monster, and 
listen all the while to the sickening gusto of 
his feasting! An old uncle of the Don’s had 
been literally torn to ribbons by a grizzly 
up on La Plata many years before, and he 
had heard of others that had met a like fate. 
He held on to the tree somewhat dizzily, to 
be sure; and when he looked below it 
seemed the fierce beast was all mouth and 
455 
teeth—and frightfully tall, if he should 
stand up on his hind feet ! 
After remaining quiet in the tree for per- 
haps half an hour, the bear continuing his 
gruesome repast, a queer sensation seemed 
to be passing over the Don; his skin began to 
sting and burn as if he was on fire. Quickly 
investigating, he found he was covered 
almost from head to foot with large gray 
ants, and it was their stinging that caused 
the peculiar sensations; he fought them off 
as much as possible and found that their 
nest was in the tree; that it was literally 
alive with the venomous insect. Below was 
the horrible grizzly, no doubt waiting for 
him to fall, and in the tree it was like a living 
death ; certainly, he was “between the 
devil and the deep sea.” 
In his sufferings for the next half hour all 
of Don Ramon’s past life passed in review 
before his mind’s eye; he could even see the 
days when he was a very small muchacha— 
when he had no stain on his character. 
Then came his days of cock fighting, gam- 
bling, cattle stealing and smuggling; when 
he had to leave Taumilipas poco tiempo, and 
later, all the “rustled” yearlings that had 
found their way to the tables of the Ameri- 
canos through his agency passed along for 
inspection, their various brands larger than 
the animals that carried them. Next the 
delirious man imagined he was dead and 
paying the penalty of his sins; that he was 
in a huge corn popper, with a lot of others 
of his ilk, over the hottest part of a.very hot 
fire, and he felt he was just about to pop open 
like a great grain of corn, when a noise in 
the distance aroused him from his stupor; 
he looked down and the bear was still feast- 
ing, bigger and more ferocious-looking than 
ever. Just then camea startling “ w-o-u-ff”’ 
from off in the chaparral. 
There were few preliminaries. The new- 
comer was as hungry and ill-tempered as 
the first. And so it was that Don Ramon, 
in the hour of his terrible physical and. 
mental torture, was witness to the greatest 
bear fight that was ever pulled off in west 
Texas. With one or two more coughing 
“wouffs,’ and simultaneously emitting 
thunderous snarls of rage, they were at it. 
Smack, smash, bang! Bang, smash, smack! 
Such terrible strength, such horrible rage! 
And such lightning quickness for their 
