Angeles, escorted by the equally
enthusiastic Hill. The river was low and quiet. The horses swam it
without let from tide or snag. Even Adan forgot to cross himself.
Beyond was the high hill that lies directly to the north of Los
Angeles. Its surface seemed in motion; it looked like a huge ant-hill.

"Them's women," said Hill, a few moments after they had left the river
behind them. "Women and children. The fight must be on. Hist! Do you
hear that?"

All three reined in. The sound of cannonading, distant but distinct,
came to their ears. Without a word they lashed their mustangs and made
for the city. They entered it in a few moments. It looked like a
necropolis. Not a human being was to be seen. They spurred back to the
hill and began the ascent, then paused for a few moments. It was a wild
and tragic scene. Hundreds of women and children, their hair streaming
in the high wind, were kneeling with uplifted crosses, praying aloud,
when they were not weeping. A few men, Americans, were passing to and
fro among them, administering encouragement; but their gaze also was
directed anxiously to the north.

Hill dismounted and approached one of the Americans, conferred with him
a moment, then returned to the impatient boys.

"They are fightin' in the San Fernando valley, three leagues to the
north," he said. "We've got no time to lose."

They were less than an hour reaching the battlefield. During that hour
Roldan scarcely knew how he felt. When he left the hacienda he was
possessed by an intense curiosity only; but with that first dull boom
something new and fierce had leapt to life within him. Every few
moments his fingers moved round to the hip-pocket that held his
pistols. The weeping women and children had made him quiver from head
to foot. As they approached the battlefield, and powder-smoke mingled
with the green fragrance of winter, he thought that his nostrils would
burst. His ear-drums were splitting with the thunder of cannon.
Suddenly Hill caught him by the arm.

"Look!" he cried. "There be Alvarado and Castro over there, and
Micheltorena on t' other side. Ain't they magnificent specimens? Why,
what's the matter?"

"Let me go!" said Roldan. His face was deeply flushed, his eyes blazed.
"Come, Adan! come, Adan!" he shouted. "An Alvarado! an Alvarado!"

"Holy smoke!" cried Hill. "You don't say you're meanin' to fight after
sweatin' fur a month to git clear of the hull business?"

But Roldan, grasping the b