is only hope.

The camp was encircled by three concentric rows of sentinels. They were
mounted, and rode incessantly to and fro, through their short patrols.
Night came. It was dark. Carson and Beale crept out from the camp, on
their hands and feet, feeling for the tall grass, the slight depressions
in the ground, the shade of the thickets. They had shoes instead of
moccasins. As they crept along foot by foot in breathless silence, the
stiff soles of the shoes would sometimes hit a stone or a stick, and make
a slight noise. They drew off their shoes and pushed them under their
belts. Occasionally they were within a few feet of the sentinels, whom
they could dimly discern.

They had passed the first line of sentinels, and the second, and were just
beginning to breathe a little more freely when a sentinel rode up to
within a few feet of the spot where they were lying still as death, and
but slightly concealed in the tall grass. By daylight they would have been
instantly seen. To their terror the sentinel was mounted, and alighting
with flint and steel began to strike a light to indulge in the comfort of
his pipe. The flame of a piece of paper would reveal them. The suspense
was terrible. So still did they lie and so intense were their inward
throbbings that Mr. Carson afterwards affirmed that he could actually hear
Lieutenant Beale's heart pulsate.

Providentially the Mexican lighted his pipe, and remounting rode in the
other direction. For a distance of nearly two miles Carson and Beale thus
crept along, working their way through the Mexican lines. Having left the
last sentinel behind them, they regained their feet and felt for their
shoes. They were gone. Thus far they had not interchanged even a whisper.
Though the worst peril was now over, they had still many dangers to
encounter, and fearful suffering. It would not do to advance upon San
Diego by any of the well-trodden trails, all of which were closely watched
by the enemy's scouts. Carson chose a circuitous route over rocks and
hills, where their feet were dreadfully lacerated by the prickly pear.

All the next day, with feet torn and bleeding, they toiled along, feeding
upon whatever they could find, which would in the slightest degree appease
the gnawings of hunger. Another night spread its gloom around them. Still
onward was the march of our heroes. About midnight, Carson discovered,
from a slight eminence, the dim outline of the houses in San Diego. They
app