The Indians had attempted to reach him by means of the lightning rod, to which they had attached thongs of buckskin, but could not succeed in getting more than half way up.

AN INCIDENT

In the war of Mexican independence.

The following thrilling narrative is from a translation in Sharpe’s Magazine.  A captain in the Mexican insurgent army is giving an account of a meditated night attack upon a hacienda situated in the Cordilleras, and occupied by a large force of Spanish soldiers.  After a variety of details, he continues: 

“Having arrived at the hacienda unperceived, thanks for the obscurity of a moonless night, we came to a halt under some large trees, at some distance from the building, and I rode forward from my troop, in order to reconnoitre the place.  The hacienda, so far as I could see in gliding across, formed a huge, massive parallelogram, strengthened by enormous buttresses of hewn stone.  Along this chasm, the walls of the hacienda almost formed the continuation of another perpendicular one, chiselled by nature herself in the rocks, to the bottom of which the eye could not penetrate, for the mists, which incessantly boiled up from below, did not allow it to measure their awful depth.  This place was known, in the country, by the name of ‘the Voladero.’”

“I had explored all sides of the building except this, when I know not what scruple of military honor incited me to continue my ride along the ravine which protected the rear of the hacienda.  Between the walls and the precipice, there was a narrow pathway about six feet wide; by day, the passage would have been dangerous; but, by night, it was a perilous enterprize.  The walls of the farm took an extensive sweep, the path crept round their entire basement, and to follow it to the end, in the darkness, only two paces from the edge of a perpendicular chasm, was no very easy task, even for as practiced a horseman as myself.  Nevertheless, I did not hesitate, but boldly urged my horse between the walls of the farm-house and the abyss of the Voladero.  I had got over half the distance without accident, when, all of a sudden, my horse neighed aloud.  This neigh made me shudder.  I had just reached a pass where the ground was but just wide enough for the four legs of a horse, and it was impossible to retrace my steps.”

“‘Hallo!’ I exclaimed aloud, at the risk of betraying myself, which was even less dangerous than encountering a horseman in front of me on such a road.  ‘There is a Christian passing along the ravine!  Keep back,’”

“It was too late.  At that moment, a man on horseback passed round one of the buttresses which here and there obstructed this accursed pathway He advanced toward me.  I trembled in my saddle; my forehead bathed in a cold sweat.”

“‘For the love of God! can you not return?’ I exclaimed, terrified at the fearful situation in which we both were placed.”