es, upon
the astounded Spaniards. We cannot follow him, nor the generals whom
he created, in their marvellous marches, and still more marvellous
triumphs, during many succeeding years. Suffice it to say, that he
fell like a thunderbolt from a sunny sky upon the confident Royalist
troops,--that he defeated and routed them time after time, broke, with
his terrible lancers, upon encampments which believed him a hundred
miles away, and drove the Royal commanders, with varying success, from
one point to another of Venezuela. His watchword was, _Guerra a la
muerte_, "War unto death!" Every battle-ground became a shamble, every
flight a butchery. The system was inaugurated by his antagonists, who
cruelly slew eight Patriot officers, and eight citizens of Barinas,
shortly after the commencement of hostilities, under circumstances of
peculiar barbarity. Thenceforward Bolivar's men took no prisoners.

In the mean time, Wellington had driven the French across the Pyrenees,
and Ferdinand the Adored ruled once more in Madrid. Even now, judicious
management might have secured again the allegiance of the Colonies; but
the first action of Ferdinand was to vituperate his American subjects
as rebels, whom he commanded to lay down their arms at once; and on
the 18th of February, 1815, there sailed from Cadiz a stately armament
intended to enforce this peremptory order. Sixty-five vessels composed
the fleet, bearing six regiments of infantry, one of dragoons, the
Queen's hussars, artillery, sappers and miners, engineers, and eighteen
pieces of cannon, besides incalculable quantities of arms and munitions
of war. The expedition numbered fifteen thousand men, and was commanded
in chief by the famous soldier, General Don Pablo Morillo, the guerilla
champion, the opposer of the French.

On the 4th of April, this redoubtable army effected a landing; and once
more, all but an insignificant fraction of Venezuela fell under the hand
of Spain. The flood of successful rebellion was rolled back from the
coast, and Bolivar, with his dauntless partisans, was soon confined to
the Llanos, which stretch away in level immensity from the marshy banks
of the Orinoco, the Apure, and their tributaries.

Our readers have already been introduced to these Llanos, and have
beheld their wild inhabitants amid the monotonous avocations of a time
of peace. Let us now approach them while the "blood-red blossom of war"
blazes up from their torrid vegetation. Let us de