g a prayer to the Virgin, she
dashed up the road; but, encumbered by loose drapery, soon measured her
length, in the most ludicrous plight, upon the sand. We assisted her to
rise, and perceiving our lurking-place, she laughed heartily, after
indulging the gay sailor fellow who threw the stone with a specimen of
the sinews in her stout arms. The women were, almost invariably, the
vehicles for transmitting information concerning our designs in town, to
their friends outside; among our multiform duties at the Garita was that
of opening all correspondence and perusing the contents. It was
surprising how shrewd and accurate were many of their surmises, and the
tender regard they still evinced for their forlorn lovers--at least on
paper; and such imploring billets, too, from the banished _caballeros_,
for their faithless _amantes_ to join their fortunes in the camp, to rid
themselves of the hateful Yankees. Yet with all their coquetry they
still did their best to shield their former friends from danger, and so
cunningly, too, as to be difficult of detection. On a certain night,
while visiting the sentinels at the road, a negress came from the town,
and in reply to the hail, as was customary with the natives, replied,
_norte Americano_! On being told no one could pass before sunrise, she
retraced her steps, and in attempting to steal past by another path,
came near being shot, notwithstanding her cries of _norte Americano_!
Upon making a third effort some hours later, my suspicions were aroused,
and as we were desirous of preventing all egress at the time, to my
shame be it said, I ordered her searched. Nothing was discovered, and to
repay her for the indignity she had experienced, I gave her a kindly and
paternal pat on the wool--there was the object of our search! a little
crumpled bit of paper, on which was scrawled, _a la carrera, entre dos
luces, los gringos!_--be off: the Yankees will be upon you at daylight!
But neither threats nor entreaties could induce the black courier to
betray the writer.

Finding no signs of the Mexicans, we marched back to Mazatlan at noon.
The marines shortly followed, having surprised the _lanceros_, and taken
a number of horses, arms and prisoners. But a damp was thrown over the
affair, by their bringing in the body of our little ranchero friend,
Madariaga, who was accidentally killed during the fray. Poor fellow! he
was intelligent, and we drank out of the same cup. The day after, while
ridi