We passed on, however, without disturbance, or sight of an enemy, until we came nearly to the edge of the town and saw the glistening roof of the church appear above the foliage,—­where sat sundry carrion-loving buzzards, elbowing each other, shuffling to and fro with outspread wings, and chuckling, doubtless, over the promise of glorious times.  As we go on, suddenly heads appear over the bushes less than a hundred yards in front, and we hear the vindictive whistle of Minie-balls above us.  Our leader, calling upon us to fire, began himself to blaze away rapidly with his Colt’s revolver.  We huddled forward, with little care for order, and delivered some dozen Mississippi and Sharpe’s rifles.  There were nervous men in the crowd; for, after the discharge, dust was flying from the road within thirty feet of us.  However, some aimed higher; and when we looked again, the heads had disappeared.  One bold greaser stepped out into the road and sent his Minie-ball singing several yards above us, then darted back quickly, before any of us could have him.  We waited a moment to see others, but they seemed to be satisfied;—­and we were satisfied,—­with prospect of a swarm bursting out on us from the town; so, sinking spurs into our weary animals, we made good pace back to the camp,—­not without an alarm that a troop of well-mounted lancers was behind us.

In the course of the afternoon, General Henningsen arrived, bringing a fine brass howitzer, and a small reinforcement of infantry—­as those armed with rifled muskets and bayonets were called—­and artillerymen; and, after some hours’ rest, he ordered a fresh attempt with the howitzer, supported by somewhere near two hundred men.  This party was received with so fierce a fire at the barricade that they shrank back, leaving the howitzer behind in the road,—­so that the enemy were on the point of capturing it, when a brave artilleryman touched off the piece, loaded with grape-shot, almost in their faces, and, strewing the earth with dead, sent the others flying back to the barricade.  This artilleryman told me that an old officer amongst the enemy stood his ground alone after the discharge, and swore manfully at the fugitives, but they were panic-struck and took no heed; and it was his assertion, that, had a small part of the riflemen rallied and charged at this time, they might have gone over the barricade without difficulty or hindrance.  As it was, the howitzer was scarcely brought off, and the attack failed ingloriously.  Whether this story of the artilleryman were true or false, we heard in other ways, by general report, that the riflemen had behaved badly, and quailed as the filibusters had scarcely done before; though, after all, it will seem unreasonable to blame these two hundred or less, disease-worn and spiritless men, for not whipping ten hundred out of a barricaded town.  It may be worth saying here, that, seeing things in Nicaragua from a common soldier’s befogged view-point, and having only general rumor, or the tales of privates like myself, for parts of an engagement where I was not present, I may easily make mistakes in the numbers, and otherwise do Walker and his officers, or the enemy, injustice.  Yet I may be excused, since I am not attempting a history of the war, but merely some account of my own experience, passive and active.