In Texas Indians rarely do, and never when they engage in a fight with Rangers.

Between them and these border _guerrilleros_--in one sense almost as much savages as themselves--war is an understood game--to the bitter end, with no quarter either asked or given.
The Rangers count three of their number killed and about twice as many wounded--enough, considering the advantage they had in their unwarned attack upon enemies who for once proved unwatchful.
When the conflict has finally come to a close, and daylight makes manifest the result, the victors take possession of the spoil--most of it their own property.

The horses that strayed or stampeded during the fight are again collected into a drove--those of the Indians being united to it.

This done, only a short stay is intended--just long enough to bury the bodies of the three Rangers who have been killed, get stretchers prepared for such of the wounded as are unable to sit in the saddle, and make other preparations for return towards the settlements.
They do not hasten their departure through any apprehension of a counter-attack on the side of the Comanches.

Fifty Texan Rangers--and there are this number of them--have no fear on any part of the plains, so long as they are mounted on good horses, carry rifles in their hands, bowie-knives and pistols in their belts, with a sufficient supply of powder in their flasks, and bullets in their pouches.