The Mexicans, doubtless, had never seen anything in the way of horseflesh bigger than the mustangs they were riding; and this apparition, with the long line of uniformed soldiers descending the hill, was calculated to alarm them severely.
"Them fellers is gwine to put, Cap'n," said Lincoln, touching his cap respectfully.
"You're right, Sergeant," I replied; "and without them we might as well think of catching the wind as one of these mules." "If yer'll just let me draw a bead on the near mustang, I kin kripple him 'ithout hurtin' the thing thet's in the saddle." "It would be a pity.

No, Sergeant," answered I.

"I might stop them by sending forward the guide," I continued, addressing myself rather than Lincoln; "but no, it will not do; there must be the appearance of force.
I have promised.

Major, would you have the goodness to ride forward, and prevent those fellows from galloping off ?" "Lord, Captain!" said the major, with a terrified look, "you don't think I could overtake such Arabs as them?
Hercules is slow--slow as a crab!" Now, this was _a lie_, and I knew it! for Hercules, the major's great, raw-boned steed, was as fleet as the wind.
"Then, Major, perhaps you will allow Mr Clayley to make trial of him," I suggested.

"He is light weight.