The steamer not arriving, we remained at this place several days, employed as before, with the sugar-cane and the wood-ticks, miserable enough.

In the mean time, the foot at San Juan, finding unusual temptation to escape from this place, so much nearer the Costa-Rican line, were leaving in large parties; and unwilling service was made of the rangers to intercept the fugitives, by posting them below on all the paths leading through the forest to Costa Rica.  General Walker esteemed these more faithful, because they had been more considerately treated, better fed, allowed greater freedom and privilege,—­having no drill, loose discipline, and exemption from guard-duty when with the foot; and, above all, their part of the service being healthier, and, though more fatiguing, far preferable, on the whole, to the other.  One night I was detailed, with others, on this disagreeable duty, and remember it, for other reasons, as the most wretched night of all that I passed in Nicaragua.  Our station was on the bank of a little wooded stream, some miles below San Juan.  After the guard had been posted, I lay down to get some hours’ sleep, which I needed,—­but was no sooner on the ground than a swarm of infinitesimally small creatures, of the tick genus, whose den I had invaded, came over me, and the rest was merely one sensation of becrawled misery; so that, notwithstanding great previous loss of sleep, I went again unrefreshed.  I asked an old filibuster who lay near me, how he could sleep through it.  “Oh,” said he, “I’ve got my skin dirty and callous, and this easy-walking species, that can’t bite, never troubles me.”  On this subject I read the following in Mr. Irving’s “History of Columbus” with some emotion:—­“Nor is the least beautiful part of animated nature [in those tropical regions] the various tribes of insects that people every plant, displaying brilliant coats-of-mail, which sparkle to the eye like precious gems.”  It seems strange to me that any good should be recognized in these children of despair, which have caused me more unhappiness than all the world’s vermin beside.  I think this praise must be from Mr. Irving himself, looking up the picturesque.  It is not possible that Columbus would have had the heart to flatter and polish up these mailed insects, who, in his day, ate him, turned him over and over, and harried him more than ever was Job by Satan.

Next morning, whilst we were roasting green plantains in the fire for breakfast, a man dressed in General Walker’s blue-shirt-and-cotton-breeches uniform came upon us suddenly from out of the woods beyond the stream.  He was evidently going south,—­but seeing our party, with startled look, he turned, and went in the direction of San Juan.  We knew him at once for a deserter, but had no zeal to arrest him; and he had already got past us, when some one ejaculated,—­“D—–­ him, why don’t he go right?  That’s not the road to Costa Rica!” Upon this unlucky speech, the officer in command of the detail, who, either through inattention or design, was suffering the man to pass unquestioned, ordered him to be followed and seized.  He was a German, and either a dull, heavy fellow, or else stupefied by his terrible misfortune; and being unable to say a consistent word for himself, the officer sent him off under guard to San Juan, where it was well known what General Walker would do with him.