in the rear, and suddenly
the sounds of firing and the cries of startled men were heard in front
of us.

"Mount!" cried the colonel; for we were still leading our horses, and
most of our mules were dead. "Forward! Trot!"

"Some of the enemy have doubled and cut in on our flank!" said Plaza
excitedly.

"Gallop!" roared the colonel, as entering the valley we caught sight of
what was going on.

Unperceived by us, a Royalist detachment had stolen down the valley and
flung itself on the flank of our two rear battalions. Taken by
surprise, and outnumbered, our men were speedily overpowered, and
before we had arrived on the scene they had dispersed in all directions.

To the shouts of "Viva el Rey!" and encouraged by their officers, the
Royalists were hotly chasing their beaten enemy. The valley was in a
state of terrible confusion. The dead bodies of men lay scattered
about; a few of the victors were dragging off an abandoned gun; others
were carrying away stores and baggage. The fight was a complete
disaster for our side.

"We can't do any good," whispered Alzura, as the colonel halted us,
"and I doubt if we aren't cut off ourselves."

"Better charge at once," muttered Plaza; "the more we look at it the
less we shall like it."

"My lads," cried the colonel, riding down the ranks, "there is a stiff
bit of work before us. Let us remember we are the Hussars of Junin."

The troopers responded with a ringing "Viva!" and as we got a firmer
seat on our saddles, Alzura remarked,--

"That's the way to talk, Juan. These fellows will fight to the death
now."

There was something fresh happening on the other side, but we had no
time to see what it was. The bugle sounded, and with the colonel
leading we dashed straight across the valley. An infantry battalion
peppered us from the right, and a squadron was drawn up right across
our path.

Men began to fall. Here and there a riderless horse, darting from the
ranks, tore across the valley. We were, as Alzura said, in a warm
corner.

Bullets whizzed past our ears, but we noticed them not, riding straight
as a die at the hostile cavalry.

"The major's down!" cried Plaza. "Poor old major!"

That was his only epitaph. We had no time to sorrow for any one just
then, though we mourned for him sincerely enough afterwards.

"Charge!" roared the colonel; and the sabres flashed as the horses
bounded forward, thundering with their hoofs on the ground.

"Caramba!"