lowed flushed with
victory, till they were fairly in the trap. Now a single boulder
came rushing from on high, and falling on a horse, killed him, then
rebounding, carried dismay and wounds to those behind. Another followed,
and yet another, and I grew glad at heart, for it seemed to me that the
danger was over, and that for the second time my strategy had succeeded.

But suddenly from above there came a sound other than that of the
rushing rocks, the sound of men joining in battle, that grew and grew
till the air was full of its tumult, then something whirled down from on
high. I looked; it was no stone, but a man, one of my own men. Indeed he
was but as the first rain-drop of a shower.

Alas! I saw the truth; I had been outwitted. The Spaniards, old in war,
could not be caught twice by such a trick; they advanced down the pass
with the carronades indeed because they must, but first they sent great
bodies of men to climb the mountain under shelter of the night, by
secret paths which had been discovered to them, and there on its summit
to deal with those who would stay their passage by hurling rocks upon
them. And in truth they dealt with them but too well, for my men of the
Otomie, lying on the verge of the cliff among the scrub of aloes and
other prickly plants that grew there, watching the advance of the foe
beneath, and never for one moment dreaming that foes might be upon their
flank, were utterly surprised. Scarcely had they time to seize their
weapons, which were laid at their sides that they might have the greater
freedom in the rolling of heavy masses of rock, when the enemy, who
outnumbered them by far, were upon them with a yell. Then came a fight,
short but decisive.

Too late I saw it all, and cursed the folly that had not provided
against such chances, for, indeed, I never thought it possible that the
forces of the Spaniards could find the secret trails upon the further
side of the mountain, forgetting that treason makes most things
possible.

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE SIEGE OF THE CITY OF PINES

The battle was already lost. From a thousand feet above us swelled the
shouts of victory. The battle was lost, and yet I must fight on. As
swiftly as I could I withdrew those who were left to me to a certain
angle in the path, where a score of desperate men might, for a while,
hold back the advance of an army. Here I called for some to stand at
my side, and many answered to my call. Out of them I chose fifty