Some of the Rangers began to stamp upon the glowing fire. Hays was so angry that he struck the Mexicans with his quirt.
“Mount! Mount!” cried he. “We must go quickly after the redskins, as I fear that they have seen the tell-tale fire and have decamped.”
A furious run was now made for the tepees of the hostiles, which were a mile away. It was as the knowing Captain had anticipated. The Indians saw the smoke and knew that the Rangers were on their trail. They had fled, leaving many things in their camp, which were seized by the troopers. The Comanches had gotten safely away.
In 1844 Captain Hays and his men had a hard fight,—one of his hardest, in fact. It was near the Pedernales River. Upon this occasion he had gone out with fourteen men, about eighty miles northwest from San Antonio, for the purpose of finding out the position of the redskins and the probable location of their camp.
As the river came in view, about fifteen Indians were discovered. They soon saw the Rangers. Riding towards them, they shook their clenched fists and seemed to be desirous of having a fight. As the Rangers rode forward they retreated and endeavored to lead them towards a ridge which was covered with thick underbrush.
“Oh, no,” said Captain Hays, “I am too well acquainted with your wiles to move on. I know that you have an ambush laid for me and my men.”
It was hard to keep the Rangers from advancing to the attack.
“Go around the redskins to the second ridge,” cried the knowing Captain. “We can thus get the Indians in the rear.”
The Rangers were posted upon a long hillock, separated from the Indian position by a deep ravine. They were not here long before the redskins discovered who was before them, and, as they knew Captain Jack full well, decided to give up trying to catch him by stratagem. They now showed themselves to the number of seventy-five and cried out, in pigeon English:
“Come on, white men! Ugh! Come on! We get your scalps soon!”