barracks.

The night following this adventure we were out again, about three hours
past midnight, with a single attendant, I became separated from my
party, and after getting bewildered among swamps and thickets, just as
day was breaking we reached the beach. All right now, we thought, and
trudging stoutly over the sand, we suddenly came full upon a Mexican
picket. We dropped as if shot. It was early dawn, and we were not
discovered. They were sitting on their horses, behind a little hillock,
with the butts of their long lances resting on the ground; and for my
part I already, in imagination, felt one, half through me; they were
anxiously peering about, and we were certain that the first movement on
our side would be attended with inevitable capture, with melancholy
thoughts of perspective dinners on frijoles and paper cigars. So we
remained quietly lying on the sand, until presently one exclaimed, with
much emphasis, _compadre, no hay Yankis! corramos_--there are no
Yankees, let us be off. A moment later, there was heard a sharp rattle
of musketry, soon followed by a volley; uttering loud curses, they gave
spur, covered us with dust as they galloped by, and disappeared in the
woods. Regaining our feet once more, we plunged waist deep through a
lagoon, crossed fields and fences, and reaching the main road, devoted
all our energies to our legs. A mile of this healthful exercise
exhausted our powers, and we paused for breath; but the troubles
apparently were not ended. A party of horsemen came dashing along the
road in our wake; running was out of the question, there was no more run
left in us, so with a cocked carbine and pistol we stood the result. Our
fears were groundless, however; and, upon seeing ladies in the troop, we
took courage, and advanced to meet them. It was a Spanish family,
returning from Rosario, who falling accidentally between the firing of
the skirmishing parties, were nearly frightened out of their wits;
indeed, one of the ladies had fainted, and been left at a rancho by the
roadside, until a litter could be sent from town. They were not more
rejoiced at having us for an escort than we were to avail ourselves of
their protection, and we all jogged bravely into Mazatlan. Our fellows
returned soon after, having made a few prizes of arms, saddles, and camp
equipage, but did no bodily harm to the enemy, who, as before, had fled.

On the night of the 19th, a plan was matured for surprising a body of
in