m of his sombrero down a little
further, and pulled his serape up to meet it. The habit the Mexicans had
of wrapping their serapes so high that they were covered to the nose was
fortunate at this time. He was now completely disguised, without the
appearance of having taken any unusual precaution.

He walked forward boldly and sat down with a group beside a fire. He
judged by the fact that they were awake so late that they had but little
to do, and he saw at once also that they were Mexicans from the far
south. They were small, dark men, rather amiable in appearance. Two
began to play guitars and they sang a plaintive song to the music. The
others, smoking cigarritos, listened attentively and luxuriously. Ned
imitated them perfectly. He, too, lying upon his elbow before the
pleasant fire, felt the influence of the music, so sweet, so murmurous,
speaking so little of war. One of the men handed him a cigarrito, and,
lighting it, he made pretense of smoking--he would not have seemed a
Mexican had he not smoked the cigarrito.

Lying there, Ned saw many tents, evidence of a camp that was not for the
day only, and he beheld officers in bright uniforms passing among them.
His heart gave a great jump when he noticed among them a heavy-set, dark
man. It was Cos, Cos the breaker of oaths. With him was another officer
whose uniform indicated the general. Ned learned later that this was
Sesma, who had been dispatched with a brigade by Santa Anna to meet Cos
on the Rio Grande, where they were to remain until the dictator himself
came with more troops.

The music ceased presently and one of the men said to Ned:

"What company?"

Ned had prepared himself for such questions, and he moved his hand
vaguely toward the left.

"Over there," he said.

They were fully satisfied, and continued to puff their cigarritos,
resting their heads with great content upon pillows made of their
saddles and blankets. For a while they said nothing more, happily
watching the rings of smoke from their cigarritos rise and melt into the
air. Although small and short, they looked hardy and strong. Ned
noticed the signs of bustle and expectancy about the camp. Usually
Mexicans were asleep at this hour, and he wondered why they lingered.
But he did not approach the subject directly.

"A hard march," he said, knowing that these men about him had come a
vast distance.

"Aye, it was," said the man next on his right. "Santiago, but was it
not, Jose?"

Jo