dered our view of its walls. On--on!

What means that light? Is the sun rising in the west? Is the chapparal
on fire? Whence comes the yellow gleam, half intercepted by the trunks
of the trees? Is it not the moon!

"Ho! the hacienda is in flames!"

"No--it cannot be? A house of stone, with scarcely enough timber to
make a blaze! It cannot be that?"

It is not that. We emerge from the forest; the hacienda is before our
eyes. Its white walls gleam under a yellow light--the light of fire,
but not of a conflagration. The house stands intact. A huge bonfire
burns in front of the portal; it was this that caused the glare through
the forest.

We draw up and gaze upon it with surprise. We behold a huge pile--the
material supplied from the household stock of dry faggots--a vast blaze
drowning the pale moonshine. We can see the hacienda, and all around
it, as distinctly as by the light of day!

For what purpose this holocaust of crackling acacias?

Around the fire we behold many forms, living and moving. There are men,
women, dogs, and saddled horses. Huge joints are roasting over the red
coals, and others, roasted, are being greedily eaten. Are they savages
who surround that blazing pile?

No--we can see their faces with full distinctness, the white skins and
black beards of the men, the cotton garments of the women; we can see
sombreros and serapes, cloth cloaks and calzoneros of velveteen, sashes
and sabres; we can distinguish their voices as they shout, sing, and
carouse; we note their lascivious movements in the national dance--the
_fandango_. No Indians they--'tis a bivouac of the guerrilleros--the
ruffians for whom we are in search!

Oh, that I had listened to the voice of prudence, and adopted the
strategy of a surround! But my blood was boiling, and I feared to lose
even a moment of time, lest we might be too late. But one or two of my
followers counselled delay, and, as the event proved, they were the
wisest. The rest, like myself, were impatient for action.

The word was given: and like hounds, fresh loosed from the leash, we
rushed forward with charging cheer.

It was the madness of fools. Well knew our enemy the hoarse Texan
"hurrah!" It had been shouted to terrify them, when there was no need.
They would never have stood ground.

The shout warned them, causing them to scatter like a herd of deer. The
steep hill proved too heavy for our horses; and before we could reach
its summi