"Wang-g-g!"
"Bang-g-g!"
Both down again, the Lieutenant's coat-tail slightly dislocated, and the Adjutant dangerously wounded in the leg of his breeches! Both parties getting very mad, very tired, and very anxious to try it on at ten paces. Seconds object, pieces loaded up again, principals arranged, and,
"One, two, three, fire!"
"Wang-g-g-g!"
"Bang-g-g!"
All down—load up again—take a drink—fire! and down they go again. It is very natural to suppose that all this firing attracted somebody's attention, and somebody came poking around to see what it was all about; and just then, as four or five Mexicans came peeping and peering through the chaparral, Dick and Wash. let drive—Bang-g! wang-g! and though it seemed impossible to hit one another, the slugs, ricochetting over and through the chaparral, knocked down two Mexicans, who yelled sanguinary murder, and the rest of their friends took to their heels. The seconds, not quite so "tight" as the principals, took warning in time to evacuate the field of honor, Lieut. Dick's second taking him one way, and Ajt. Wash.'s friend going another, just as a "Corporal's Guard" made their appearance to arrest the rioters. In spite of the poor Mexicans' protestations, or endeavors to make out a true case, they were taken up and carried to the Guard-House, for shooting one another, and raising a row in general. A night's repose brought the morning's reflection, when the previous day's performances were laughed at, if not forgotten. Wash, and Dick became good friends, of course, and cemented the bonds of fraternity in the bloody work of a day or two afterwards, in storming Monterey.
THE END.