The way was not easy for one on foot.  Clouds of dust arose, and stung nose and throat.  The sharp lava or basalt cut through the soles of shoes, and at midday the sun’s rays burned fiercely.  Weakened already by the hardships of his flight Ned was barely able to keep up.  Once when he staggered a horseman prodded him with the butt of his lance.  Ned was not revengeful, but he noted the man’s face.  Had he been armed then he would have struck back at any cost.  But he took care not to stagger again, although it required a supreme effort.

They halted about an hour at noon, and Ned ate some rough food and drank water with the Tlascalans.  He was deeply grateful for the short rest, and, as he sat trying to keep himself from collapse, Almonte came up and held out a flask.

“It is wine,” he said.  “It will strengthen you.  Drink.”

Ned drank.  He was not used to wine, but he had been so near exhaustion that he took it as a medicine.  When he handed the flask back the color returned to his face and the blood flowed more vigorously in his veins.

“General Cos does not wish me to see you at all,” said Almonte.  “He thinks you should be treated with the greatest harshness, but I am not without influence and I may be able to ease your march a little.”

“I know that you will do it if you can,” said Ned gratefully.

Yet Almonte was able to do little more for him.  The march was resumed under equally trying conditions, after the short rest.  When night came and the detachment stopped, Ned ached in every bone, and his feet were sore and bleeding.  Almonte was sent away in the morning on another service, and there was no one to interfere for him.

He struggled on all of the next day.  Most of his strength was gone, but pride still kept him going.  Orizaba was growing larger and larger, dominating the landscape, and Ned again drew courage from the lofty white cone that looked down upon them.

Late in the afternoon he heard a trumpet blow, and there was a great stir in the force of Cos.  Men held themselves straighter, lines were re-formed, and the whole detachment became more trim and smart.  General Cos on his white horse rode to its head, and he was in his finest uniform.  Somebody of importance was coming!  Ned was keen with curiosity but he was too proud to ask.  The Tlascalans had proved a churlish lot, and he would waste no words on them.

The road now led down into a beautiful savanna, thick in grass, and with oaks and pines on all sides.  Cos’ companies turned into the grass, and Ned saw that another force entering at the far side was doing the same.  All the men in the second force were mounted, the officer who was at their head riding a horse even finer than that of Cos.  His uniform, too, was more splendid, and his head was surmounted by a great three-cornered hat, heavy with gold lace.  He was compact of figure, sat his saddle well, and rode as if the earth belonged to him.  Ned recognized him at once.  It was the general, the president, the dictator, the father of his country, the illustrious Santa Anna himself.