We returned to the lower camp, and delivered our report to a boyish-looking person, in unepauletted red flannel shirt, but who was no other than Colonel O’Neal, the officer in command.  He was popular amongst his men, and reputed a brave and energetic officer.  He probably mistrusted from the first that his force was too small; and hence the delay in the attack, and the dispatch of the little party of riflemen merely to satisfy General Walker.  Be that as it may, upon hearing our report, he recalled the advanced party, and immediately sent off to Rivas to say he could do nothing against the town without a reinforcement.

In the mean time those of the men who were off guard lay about under the trees and ate oranges, with which the alcalde’s yard was stocked plentifully, whilst such wounded as had been brought in were laid on the floor of the house, and their wounds probed by the surgeon; whereupon, being but young soldiers mostly, there arose loud outcries and dismal bellowings.  For my own part, I set about comforting my mule, who had been under saddle since leaving Rivas.  I unsaddled him, brought him an armful of tortilla corn from the alcalde’s kitchen-loft, some water from the well, and left him making merry as if he had nothing worse ahead of him.

Some time after mid-day the rest of our company came out from Rivas, and we immediately had orders to ride up the road and fire upon the enemy’s outpost,—­which, as the riflemen had been withdrawn and our advanced picket was now nearly half a mile from the town, promised to be a service of some danger.  Therefore one of our commissioned officers, afterwards dismissed the service for cowardice, was here seized suddenly with the colic,—­so badly, that he was unable to ride with us at his post.  Other sick men being left in quarters at Rivas, we counted now but little over twenty men,—­armed with Mississippi or Sharpe’s rifles, and some of us with the revolvers we had brought from California.  After passing the adobe building, garrisoned last night, but now empty, we advanced with great care, our leader taking often the precaution to dismount and peer with bared head over the cactus-hedge which crowned the right-hand bank of the road and shut us in on that side completely.  At every turn of the road he repeated his reconnoissance, so that our advance was very slow, giving a watchful enemy almost time to place an ambush, if they had none ready prepared.  It was as sweet a place for a trap as greaser’s heart could wish.  On our right was the impenetrable cactus-hedge, with an open space beyond, terminated at the distance of a few yards by a wood or plantain-patch.  On the left was another wood, matted with tangled underbrush and vines which no horseman could penetrate.  On either side half a dozen men might couch in ambush and shoot us down in perfect security.