When Hardin's Ranch, 16 miles from Fort R----, was reached, I bivouacked my men and taking Charlton proceeded to reconnoitre-- I found two tall, gaunt, leathery, bony, unprepossessing, sour-looking females-- With some hesitation, I approached my delicate mission or undertaking and began to interview them, using all of the engaging manners and suave (?) diplomacy I was capable of--which, as a soldier--so I have been told--has never been of a very pronounced character. It availed me nothing-- To the inquiry as to whether any of the men were at home, and if any carbines had been left at the ranch by these soldiers when going down the country, the reply was curtly snapped out--"No"!-- They 'lowed they hadn't never seen no carbines; the "old man" wasn't home-- I _politely_ asked if I might "look about the ranch and premises"-- That stirred the gall of these specimens of the gentle, tender sex-- "No! you can't"!-- Then I began a mild form of the "Third Degree"--and bringing up the man who had--under pressure--"Squealed"--to identify the women--and to make an even stronger statement as to the disposal of their carbines--we were met with nothing but repulses, followed by foul abuse--such as: "You blue-bellied Yankees better go away from here--if the "old man" was here he would lick you uns outen yer boots", etc.-- I was not, at this point, inclined to spoil the reputation I had already acquired or sacrifice my good name, or make any slip by any "Violation of the Civil Law" now in full force in all parts of Texas--in view of Mackenzie's explicit instructions on that point-- Neither did I feel inclined to be beaten just at this stage of the game--the end of this frightfully exhausting and most momentous trip, or to be balked and bluffed by these two raw bone, belligerent termagants, and lose the fruits of my thus far assured success-- I wanted to make a clean "sweep up" of my trip, and, in order to do so--_I must have those carbines_, now that I felt I was so close to them-- So I swung around to other tactics--or, rather _Grand Strategy_-- "If you don't produce those carbines from their places of concealment, which I know to be here or about your premises, I shall be compelled to search your ranch"-- This last shot hit hard-- More and more abuse, coupled with more threats of what the "old man" would do to me. The climax had now come-- I could not see my way clear to bluff any longer-- I felt that I must act at once and decisively-- "Corporal Charlton, call the men at once-- Search this ranch thoroughly-- If necessary rip up the floors, and turn over the "_loft_"; ransack all of the out buildings, but be careful that you do not injure these _ladies_" (?) "If they resist or try to use any guns, treat them as you would 'he' _men_; jump on them, and securely rope them--and don't let them get 'the drop' on you-- You take charge of the job and see that it is well done"-- His steel-blue eyes flashed-- My