ng, made us stand by him and
relate our adventures. Then he complimented us on our pluck, and
turning to an officer, said, "Take these youngsters to O'Brien, and ask
him to supply them with decent clothing; they have at least earned
that. And I am very proud of you, boys; and so, no doubt, are your
comrades." At which Plaza led off a round of cheering.

I was very glad to see the great, big, jolly Irishman again, and he
lost no time in getting us fresh uniforms from the stores, with an
extra poncho apiece.

"You'll be glad of that at night," said he, "for up here the
thermometer is generally below freezing-point. I must come to see you,
if there's time, and hear your story."

O'Brien was quite right about the biting cold, but on that first night
at least we hardly felt it. Dressed in our new clothes, comfortably
wrapped in our ponchos, seated close to a roaring fire, and surrounded
by old friends, Alzura and I felt amply repaid for all our toils and
privations.

In honour of our arrival our brother officers had organized a grand
supper, the greatest delicacy being a small loaf of white bread, which
they insisted on sharing with Alzura and myself. After supper, we had
to give an account of our adventures; and many a laugh went up as I
told of my chum's plans, of our disasters in crossing the morass, and
of the strange Indians who had mistaken us for Royalists, which, Plaza
unkindly remarked, was a poor compliment to the enemy.

"After all," he continued, "you haven't had such a very bad time. Now,
while you've been playing, we've been at work."

"Oh," cried Alzura, smiling blandly, "that would be a change for you!"

"We've made roads," said Cordova, with a solemn air, "built huts,
collected fuel, carried corn, and driven cattle. We've worked harder
than the labourers on your father's estates."

"Glad to hear it," laughed my chum. "I thought Bolivar would make
something of you. A pity we weren't with you, though."

"A great pity! With Crawford and you helping, there would have been
little for us to do."

"It must have been rough work crossing the mountains," I observed.

"Rough? rather! especially as Bolivar has turned us into cavalry," and
he proceeded to give a graphic account of the passage.

"The shelving ledges on the mountain sides are so narrow that the
troops were obliged to advance in single file. The cavalry, of course,
were greatly handicapped. Each man rode a mule, and had a led hors