Our men were again rejoicing at having repulsed our foes, when Juan summoned us to a council of war.

"Though we may rejoice at the victory we have gained," he said, "yet it has been dearly bought by the death of so many of the garrison, and by the expenditure I find, of nearly all our ammunition. Should another attack be made, we have not a sufficient supply to repulse the enemy. Still I know that you and all my men will fight to the last, and that we may offer an effectual resistance with our spears and swords. We are ordered to hold this post, and I am resolved not to quit it alive, or we might possibly cut our way through the enemy. After the losses they have received, they may not attack us for some time; so I propose to send off any two of you who may be willing to go, to endeavour to reach the general and obtain reinforcements, as well as a further supply of ammunition and provisions; though, in regard to the latter, we can live on horse-flesh, if need be, until assistance reaches us."

Juan looked at the other officers; but they made no reply. He then turned to Captain Laffan and me. "Are you willing to go?" he asked.

"With all my heart," answered Captain Laffan; "and I am sure I may say the same for Duncan. We gained some experience of the country in our reconnaissance the other day, and I feel sure we shall get off without being discovered."

"I am perfectly ready to go," I added; "but I am very unwilling to leave you, Don Juan, in so critical a position."

"Think not of me," answered Juan. "I have a duty to perform, and I may well rejoice if I am called upon to die for the sake of my country."

We accordingly settled that we were to set out about three hours before dawn, which would give us time to get beyond the enemy, and out of their sight, when we should have the advantage of daylight for seeing our way. I confess I felt more out of spirits than usual when I bade my friend Juan farewell. A presentiment of evil oppressed me, as I thought of the dangers by which he was beset.

It was shortly after two o'clock in the morning, when Mr Laffan and I, having our horses' hoofs muffled, and followed, of course, by Lion, led them down to the river; crossing which, we took the road we had before followed for some distance. We then turned to the left, along the base of the hills. Between these and the hamlet occupied by the enemy, it was possible that patrols might be met with, and if so we had agreed to mount and cut our way through them. As we were on foot, we hoped that we should not be perceived until close upon the enemy; we should then have a good chance of escaping. We trudged on, therefore, holding our horses by the left rein, so that we might mount in a moment.

We had got a good way to the westward, and, as we fancied, clear of the enemy, when, on doubling a high rock, round which the path led, we came suddenly upon a picket. Owing to the precautions we had taken, however, they did not hear or see us until almost within a dozen paces. To leap on our horses and dig our spurs into their flanks, was the work of a moment; and before the Spanish soldiers could spring forward and seize our reins, we had already got to a considerable distance beyond them. They immediately opened fire, but, owing to the darkness and their surprise, took very bad aim. Possibly, not hearing any sound, they took us for phantom horsemen; but they continued to pepper away in the direction we had taken, long after the darkness had hidden us from their sight.

Not supposing that we should meet with another picket, we now dashed forward at full speed, the increasing light enabling us to see our way. Our horses, being perfectly fresh, went on for several leagues without flagging, and we now felt confident that there was but little chance of our being pursued. Not, however, being acquainted with the country, we knew that unless we could obtain a guide we should very likely lose our way, or take a much longer route than was necessary. With this object in view, therefore, seeing a small town on our right we rode towards it, to procure the assistance we required, and obtain refreshments for ourselves and steeds. Being uncertain who had possession of the place, I rode into the town, as I could pass there for an Englishman or a Spaniard, as the case might necessitate. I could thus obtain the information, while Mr Laffan remained on watch at some distance.

The place at first appeared deserted; but at length I saw three persons. One was lying in front of a door-step, another was apparently watching him,—both being badly wounded,—while a third, leaning against the wall, watched me as I approached.

"Friends," I asked, "what has happened lately in this town?"

"The Godos have passed through it, and as we were Patriots they burned down a large part, and killed most of us. Look at yonder woman; she alone survives of all her family. You see almost all the remaining inhabitants," and the speaker uttered a bitter laugh.

"I can feel for you, for I am a Patriot," I answered; "and I want to find my way to the army of General Bolivar."

"I would act as your guide, but I have no horse," answered the man; "and I could not sit one if I had; look here, senor,"—and he showed me a severe wound on his side. "Nor can we help you," he continued, "for there is no young man left in the place who would be able to go; but I can direct you on your road. And you will rejoice to hear, senor, that the last news which reached us is that the general has beaten the accursed Godos; though whether it is true I know not. Good news never travels so fast as ill news."

I tried to cheer my new friend, and he undertook to obtain some refreshments for us.

"You may enter any of the houses you please, for most of them are empty; but to mine you are welcome."

While he went to find some food and fodder for our horses, I rode back to where I had left Mr Laffan.

On our return we found plenty of fodder for our horses, but the fare with which we were supplied was very scanty, almost everything having been carried off by the plunderers.

"If, however, we would wait," our host said, "he would find some fruit, and procure some fowls which had escaped."

As we were anxious to proceed, we begged that he would point out the road we were to take. This he did, and we bade him farewell.

We had still some hours to ride before nightfall, when we must, if possible, find shelter. As far as we could judge, it might take us three or four days to reach the Patriot camp, and some time must elapse before relief could be sent to Juan,—and what might not occur in the meantime?

Whenever we pulled rein, Mr Laffan stood up and took a survey of the country.

"It is wise to ascertain what's moving when traversing a country, or in our course through life," he observed. "We may thus know where to find our friends and avoid our foes."

Frequently, however, the view on either side was bounded by woods, the trees rising to a prodigious size. Many of them ran up to an amazing height in a straight line before they began to branch out. From some of the fig species, various shoots descended perpendicularly, where they took root, so that we had no little difficulty in making our way through these woody columns. Between the openings we caught sight of the mountains rising to the skies; and occasionally a stream crossed our path, or ran foaming along on one side or the other.

We had hoped to reach some friendly village or farmhouse, where we might rest during the hours of darkness, and obtain better food for our horses than they could pick up in the forest; but though we pushed on until an hour after sunset, no glimmering window-light appeared to beckon us towards it, and we had at last to look about for an open space where we might bivouac. We accordingly dismounted, and tethering our animals, commenced searching for wood to light a fire. We ran no small risk, as may be supposed, of rousing up a venomous serpent, or disturbing a boa during its rest, while at any moment a jaguar or puma might pounce down upon us, or a bear make its appearance. We succeeded in obtaining fuel enough to make a pretty large fire, and by its bright flames we the more easily obtained a further supply of wood. We had, however, but scanty materials for a meal,—some fruit, and a few pieces of Indian corn bread. I gave part of my share to poor Lion, who looked up wonderingly at finding himself put on short commons in a land of plenty. There was sufficient grass, however, for our horses to obtain a feed, and as we had watered them a short time before, they were not so badly off.

Having collected fuel enough to last for the night, we cut a number of sticks, which we ran into the ground to form a shelter against any sudden attack of wild animals during the night; and then, pretty well tired out, lay down to rest. Every now and then Captain Laffan or I got up to change the position of our horses, but we dared not leave them far from the fire, lest some jaguar might spring out and kill one of them, although it might not be able to carry off its prey. Great as was our anxiety, we by turns got some sleep; and at dawn, again mounting, we rode forward. The sky, however, was cloudy, and we had greater difficulty than before in guiding our course.

We rode on for some hours, until the pangs of hunger and the necessity of resting ourselves made us resolve to stop. I was fortunate enough to kill a good-sized monkey, which was grinning down at us from a bough close above our heads; and we also found as much wild fruit as we required. So, having reached the banks of a stream, where we and our horses could get water, and where there was abundance of grass, we halted, and quickly had a fire lighted, and part of our monkey roasting before it. The other part I had given to Lion, who was quite ready to eat it uncooked.

We again moved forward, but we both felt very doubtful whether we were going right. For my own part, I know but few sensations so disagreeable as the idea that one has lost one's way. We were passing along a low sandy spot, with high bushes and trees on either side, when Captain Laffan's horse gave a sudden start; and looking down, we saw a small shiny snake gliding away. The horse had evidently been bitten, for we could see the mark of the creature's fangs above the fetlock, and soon the leg began to swell. The poor animal proceeded with the greatest difficulty. What remedies to apply we neither of us knew, but we had heard of the existence of a small snake called the aranas, the poison from whose fangs is so subtle that animals bitten often die within an hour; and even when remedies are applied, few are ever saved.

"The creature might have bitten either of ourselves," I observed.

"I do not think this species ever attacks man,—though I should not like to put the matter to the test," answered Captain Laffan.

There was no use in our stopping, especially as there might be other snakes of the same kind in the neighbourhood. We therefore, as long as the poor horse could move, pushed forward; but its pace became more and more sluggish, as the limb continued to swell. At length the animal stopped altogether, and my companion, feeling it tremble, leaped off. Scarcely had he done so when it came to the ground, and lay struggling in violent convulsions. Mr Laffan contrived to take off the saddle before it was damaged. In a few minutes, foaming at the mouth, the horse died, evidently in great pain.

"No use groaning over what cannot be helped," observed the captain. "You take the saddle, and put it before you; I'll carry the bridle; and I must try to get another horse as soon as possible."

The delay was serious, but it could not be helped; so we moved along, Mr Laffan trudging by my side. I asked him to get up, but he positively refused to do so.

The belief that we had lost our road was still further depressing. I thought especially of the serious consequences which might ensue to Juan should we not soon obtain the assistance of which we were in search. At length my eye fell on a papaw-tree, and what appeared to be a hut just below it. Riding on, we saw a Creole peasant-woman walking along and spinning, evidently near her home. At first, on seeing us, she seemed disposed to fly; but on our calling to her and assuring her that we were friends, she stood still, waiting for us to come up. Our wants were soon explained: we should be glad, of a horse, a guide, and especially of some food. Food she could give us. Her husband was out, she said, but he would soon return, and he would procure a horse, of which there were several broken-in on the farm; and perhaps he himself would act as our guide.

Eager to push on, our patience was greatly tried; though we waited and waited, the woman's husband did not appear. At last Mr Laffan proposed going out and catching one of the horses.

"But then you will not know in what direction to ride," observed the woman. "You have no right, either, to take the horse without my husband's leave."

"Might makes right," answered Mr Laffan; "however, we will not act the part of robbers, but will pay you handsomely for the horse."

This promise satisfied the poor woman.

Fortunately, just as we were setting out the husband returned, and was evidently well-pleased at the thought of getting a good price for one of his animals. He also undertook to guide us, if we could wait until the next morning at daybreak, and would promise him a reward. He took good care, indeed, that we should not start before then, as it was nearly dark before he returned with the horse. It was a tolerably good animal, though rather small, and we willingly promised him the price he asked. He described to us feelingly the terror he had been in lest the Godos should visit his farm; though, excepting a few cattle and horses, there was little they could have obtained. His wife had been in still greater fear lest they might carry her husband off as a recruit; but he had kept in hiding, and she had conveyed food to him from day to day, until the Spaniards had left the neighbourhood.

We managed to rest with tolerable comfort on heaps of Indian corn leaves, and slept securely, without the fear of being attacked by jaguars, bears, or other wild beasts, or being bitten by serpents.

Faithful to his promise, our host appeared the next morning with the horse for Mr Laffan, while he brought a smaller animal for himself. His wife insisted on putting up a supply of food for the day, and was evidently unwilling to receive any reward. After a good breakfast we started, thankful to find ourselves on the right road.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

OUR GUIDE COMPLAINS OF OUR RAPID PACE—HE LEAVES US—WE MEET CAPTAIN LOPEZ—OUR DOUBTS AS TO HIS OBJECT—IN A DESERTED HUT—WE MEET UNCLE RICHARD AND A BODY OF INFANTRY—WE TURN BACK WITH HIM—A RAPID STREAM— FINDING A BRIDGE—THE SPANIARDS ADVANCING—A RUSH TO GAIN THE BRIDGE—WE REACH IT FIRST—A FIGHT—THE SPANIARDS DEFEATED—NO PRISONERS TAKEN—WE APPROACH THE FORT—CAPTAIN LAFFAN AND I RIDE ON TO RECONNOITRE—SIGNS OF DISASTER—OUR MEN FIRE—A FLOCK OF GALENACHAS RISES FROM THE FORT, WHICH APPEARS IN RUINS—DEAD BODIES SCATTERED ABOUT—DISCOVERY OF THAT OF JUAN—WE RAISE A TOMB OVER HIS GRAVE—THE ARMY OF BOLIVAR—DESCRIPTION OF THE GENERAL—TREACHERY OF COLONEL LOPEZ—ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE BOLIVAR—NUMEROUS ENGAGEMENTS—PRAISE FROM THE GENERAL—MY RETURN HOME— AN INTERVIEW WITH DONA DOLORES—SHE JOINS THE ARMY—WAR THE GREATEST CURSE THAT CAN AFFLICT A COUNTRY—CONCLUSION.

We endeavoured to make up for lost time by galloping as fast as our horses would go, whenever the ground would admit of our doing so. Every moment might be of consequence. Should the Spaniards again attack the fort, we knew too well that our friends would have a hard matter to hold it. Our guide frequently exclaimed that we should knock up our steeds, or bring them to the ground.

"Never fear, my friend," said Mr Laffan; "if we do, we must pick ourselves up again."

"But your bones, senors, your bones; you will break them or your necks," murmured our guide.

"Never mind—we must do the best we can; you don't know what we Englishmen are made of," said Mr Laffan.

"But I may break my neck, and then what will become of my poor Margarida?" cried our guide.

"We will do our best to console her, and find her another husband. On, on!" cried Mr Laffan.

In vain were all the expostulations of our guide. The dominie lashed his little steed, and up hill and down dale we kept on. Probably Tomaso would have left us to pursue our course alone and find our own way, had not my friend wisely kept back a portion of the price of the horse, lest such a trick might be played us. At last Tomaso pointed out what he called the highroad, and assured us that by keeping straight on we should in time reach the Patriot camp. How far off it was, however, he did not say. He now begged hard for the sum we owed him.

"Here it is, my friend; you have well earned it, I own," said Mr Laffan, handing him the amount.

He was profuse in his expressions of gratitude. "A fortunate journey to you, caballeros; and may the Patriot cause prove triumphant," he added, as, making a low bow, he turned his horse's head and rode back the way we had come.

We had not got far when we saw a horseman galloping in hot haste towards us; by his dress and accoutrements we knew him to be an officer. As he got nearer I recognised him to be Captain Lopez. He pulled up, and began to address us before he recognised either of us.

"Can you tell me, caballeros, if a division of the Spanish forces is stationed anywhere in the neighbourhood? I am told that such is the case."

"And what object, Captain Lopez, have you for wishing to know where to find the Spanish forces?" asked Captain Laffan, looking sternly at him. "Surely you are not going to desert to them!"

Captain Lopez now recognised us, and looked very much confused. He answered—

"No; desert to them, no! I am not a deserter, but I wish to ascertain their whereabouts, that the Patriots, who are advancing in this direction, may be prepared to encounter them."

Captain Laffan looked incredulous, but simply asked—

"Whereabouts are we likely to find the Patriots, as we wish to join them without delay, and possibly can give them the information you are going to obtain?"

I remarked that he said nothing about Juan, or that our object was to bring him assistance. Captain Lopez, however, inquired where Juan's troop had gone, observing that it was supposed he had joined Bolivar. Whether he really knew the true state of the case, I could not tell.

Captain Laffan was as reticent as at first. "Now, Captain Lopez, we must not delay; we possess all the information you wish to gain, and I would advise you to turn back with us, or you may chance to fall into the hands of the enemy."

In answer to this remark Captain Lopez made several excuses, and at last said, "I'll ride on for a short distance, and then follow you back. Farewell, senors, for a short time;" and he continued his course in the direction he was before going.

"The scoundrel!" exclaimed Captain Laffan as we galloped on; "I am very sure that he is on no good errand. We should have served the cause by shooting him."

We had very little time to make remarks, as we had generally to ride one before the other, but our suspicions of the object Captain Lopez had in view made it more important than ever that we should reach the Patriots without delay, and hurry them on to the succour of Don Juan and his hard pressed garrison.

Another night arrived, and we were still unable to ascertain how far off the Patriots were encamped. Had our horses been able to move, we should, in spite of the dangers of the road, have pushed on in the dark. There was just light enough for us to discover a deserted hut. At the back was a garden overgrown with grass, into which we turned our horses. A well in one corner supplied them with water, and we were sure that they would not wish to stray; while the thick hedge and trees which surrounded the garden concealed them from the view of any one passing. We ourselves were not likely to be discovered unless by a person entering the hut. The food with which our good hostess Margarida had supplied us afforded a tolerable supper, with something over for breakfast. We could not doubt but that early the next day we should fall in with the Patriots.

Scarcely yet persuaded that Captain Lopez was acting treacherously, as Captain Laffan supposed, I half expected to see him return.

"If he does, it will be with a party of the enemy," said my companion, "and we shall be made prisoners, unless we get due notice and can gallop off."

This idea made us more wakeful than we should otherwise have been, for Lion doing duty as sentry was sufficient protection. The morning, however, came, and no enemy appeared. I shared my portion of the remaining stock of food with Lion, who had been for some time on short commons, as vegetable diet did not suit his constitution.

We had gone some distance when, as we were stopping to water our horses at a stream, my ear caught the tramp of feet.

"There is a large body of infantry coming along the road," I exclaimed; "I trust that they may be friends, or we shall have to cut across the country to avoid them."

Captain Laffan listened, and was satisfied that I was right.

"We must approach cautiously," he said, "and be prepared to turn to the right-about if they should prove to be enemies."

We instantly mounted and rode on, and before long came in sight of the troops.

"They are Patriots, I am sure, from their dress, and the flags they carry," said Captain Laffan.

He was right. As we got nearer a mounted officer rode forward. To my infinite satisfaction I saw that he was Uncle Richard; while Antonio came close behind him, dressed as an officer.

"Hurrah! rejoiced to see you, Duncan; and you too, Captain Laffan," exclaimed Uncle Richard as he recognised us. "Where do you come from? Tell me all about it as we ride along; you will accompany me, for we shall soon halt to let the men dine, and you can then get what food you require."

We briefly told him the object of our journey.

"I knew that Don Juan was ordered to hold the fort, but I little supposed that he was so hard pressed. However, I hope we shall be in time to relieve him. You see these fine fellows?" and he pointed to the men. "I have been busy for some months, while you were away, raising and drilling them; and though I cannot say much for the uniformity of their appearance, I am pretty sure that, if well led—as I flatter myself they will be—they will do good service when we meet the enemy. I have had some difficulty in getting efficient officers, but I chose the best men I could find, independent of all other considerations. I have a Black, and two pure-blooded Indians, while the rest are Creoles. I found your former servant Antonio so intelligent and brave a fellow, that I gave him a company."

"I am delighted to hear it," I answered. "In a noble cause like ours there should be but one consideration,—to find the best men for every post; and if they have once been slaves, they are more likely to fight for freedom."

Our great object now was to march forward and attack the Spaniards before they could capture the fort. That we should come up with the enemy in time, I could not help thinking, was very uncertain. Our men, however, were well able to advance as rapidly as any troops could move. Except their muskets and powder, they were unencumbered with any accoutrements, or indeed with any superfluous clothing. They required but little food, and that of the coarsest description. Accustomed to the use of firearms from their boyhood, they had quickly been turned into efficient soldiers. We had intelligent guides, also, who knew the country, and were able to point out the best paths for our advance.

A short time only was allowed for the men to take their dinner, after which we marched on again until nightfall. At first it seemed somewhat strange to find myself seated round our camp-fire with Antonio, and to hear him addressed as "Captain;" but I did not allude to our former relative positions. In a short time, however, as he bore his honours well, and behaved in a thoroughly officer-like way, this feeling wore off, and it seemed quite natural to speak to him as an equal. He was only one of many who at that period rose from the ranks. One of the bravest generals in the Patriot army had been a slave. Indeed, General Paez had been a herd-boy, and Arismendez a fisherman. Bolivar was one of the few Patriot leaders of high family, for the Spaniards had put to death the larger number of the men of influence and Liberal principles, before the struggle for liberty began.

The next morning we recommenced the march two hours before daylight, when the men appeared fresh and in good spirits. We had again advanced some distance after our noonday halt when we came to a rapid river, running between high cliffs, over which, we had learned from our guides, a strong wooden bridge had been thrown. Had it not been for this bridge the passage of the river would have cost us great delay, as we should have had to descend by narrow pathways to the bottom of the cliffs, then to throw a pontoon across, and ascend on the other side. In the face of an enemy this would have been impossible.

I had ridden forward, curious to examine the structure of the bridge of which our guides had spoken. I found that strong timbers had been fixed on the ledges in the cliffs projecting over the stream, serving to support a platform; from this platform others were pushed forward on either side, the inner ends lashed to the first platform, while a centre one joined the two. Railings ran along on either side of this ingenious structure, which had a roof supported on poles—the object apparently being to prevent the wood-work from rotting with the wet.

I had got a short distance along the bridge, when I caught sight of a body of men coming over the ridge of a hill scarcely a mile off. Another look convinced me that they were Spanish troops; while the advance-guard of our force was nearly as far off on the other side. I waited for a moment longer, to judge whether, by the movements of the Spaniards, the latter had been seen; but I judged that they were concealed by the trees and rocks which lay between thorn, while they on their part had not discovered the enemy. The possession of the bridge was of the greatest importance, and I knew that the Spaniards, so soon as they should discover the Patriots, would make a rush down the hill to gain it. Partly hid as I was by the roof and railings of the bridge, I hoped that I had not been seen. To avoid the risk of being discovered, therefore, I slipped off my horse, and turning its head led it back until I got under shelter of some trees; when, mounting, I galloped as hard as I could until I met Uncle Richard, who instantly gave the word to advance at the double.

The Spaniards, who were already descending the hill, rushed down with headlong speed on discovering us, hoping to gain the bridge before our party had secured it. We at once dashed across to hold it against the Spanish advance-guard, which had nearly reached it. As the enemy saw us crossing they opened a hot fire, but, the distance being considerable, their bullets did no damage, and we were soon across without a casualty. Directly afterwards the head of our column appeared, and impetuously charged along the bridge. They came not a bit too soon, for already we were engaged with those of the Spaniards who had advanced ahead of their companions, whose numbers were every moment increasing, and who pressed us fearfully hard. In the meantime the Spanish troops, as they descended the hill, opened fire on our men,—those who were waiting to cross replying to it from the other side.

As I looked up the hill I feared, from the numbers descending, that we should be shot down before a sufficient number of the Patriots could cross to hold their own until our main body had got over. Our men, however, pressed forward and formed rapidly. In another minute we had secured our ground, and driven back the enemy a dozen yards or more, affording sufficient space for the main body to form up as they crossed. Several had been shot, and had fallen over into the torrent, which was already dyed with blood.

The order was now given to charge. The Spaniards, in their eagerness to reach the bridge, had been thrown into disorder as they descended the hill. Our left wheeled, turned their flank, and drove them down towards the river; while our right stood its ground. The contest was short, but sharp. In the course of a few minutes, it seemed, the larger number of the Spaniards were hurled over the cliffs; while the rest, in utter confusion, attempted to retreat up the hill, but were followed by our nimble-footed men, and cut down or bayoneted.

No victory could have been more complete. Not a Spaniard who was taken was allowed to live. Of the whole force, numbering some five or six hundred men, those only escaped who contrived to hide themselves in ditches or behind bushes or rocks, or whose activity enabled them to keep ahead of their pursuers. Our chief casualties had occurred while our men were crossing the bridge, but, in all, we had lost comparatively few.

The summit of the hill gained, we halted to reform our troops, and then once more advanced. Whether or not the Spaniards we had defeated were those who had attacked the fort, we could not tell, as not a prisoner had been saved. In vain did Uncle Richard call to his followers to spare the lives of those who yielded; his orders were not listened to. The men only followed the custom of that savage warfare, and the example of the Spaniards, upon whom they thus fearfully retaliated.

Once more we advanced. Another day passed; and it was late on the next before we reached the neighbourhood of the fort. I looked out eagerly to ascertain whether the besiegers were still before it, but as yet not a sign could I discover of the enemy. The hamlet occupied by the Spaniards appeared to be deserted. I now felt convinced that the body we had defeated was part of the force which had been besieging the fort, while the remainder had probably marched in an opposite direction. We had seen nothing of Captain Lopez, however, and he certainly was not with those Spaniards whom we had encountered.

Now came the question, What was the fate of the garrison? Had they been able to hold out until the Spaniards, growing weary of the attempt, had given it up? or had the fort been successfully assaulted, and its defenders cut to pieces? If so, the Spaniards must now have possession, and it would be our turn to attack them, and to attempt its recapture. This would not be so difficult a task to us as it had proved to the Spaniards, as Captain Laffan and I knew every point about it, and every spot from whence it was assailable.

The first thing to be done, however, was to make a reconnaissance; and Captain Laffan and I rode on for this purpose. With our glasses we saw from a distance that no flag was flying; and as we got nearer we discovered that the flagstaff itself was broken short off, and that the tower was fearfully shattered, while parts of the stockades were thrown down, and the whole fort seemed in the most dilapidated condition.

"A bad omen, that," observed my companion; "but, at the same time, it may have been shot through, and a puff of wind have blown it down."

My heart began to sink, as, still further lessening our distance, we could see no one moving in the fort. It appeared to be deserted. As this, however, might not be the case—for the garrison might possibly be keeping concealed—we advanced cautiously, halting again just out of musket-shot. We waited for some time, but not a moving object could we discern. By this time we had been joined by several men on foot. Captain Laffan ordered them to creep forward and fire, thinking that the salute might elicit a reply should an enemy be holding the fort. As the report went echoing among the rocks, a whole flight of galenachas winged their flight to the summit of the neighbouring cliffs, whence they could watch an opportunity of again descending to finish their horrible banquet. We knew now, to a certainty, that no living beings occupied the fort. What had been the fate of our friends?

Eager to ascertain the worst, we rode forward, and, fording the stream, made our way over a mass of ruins which filled the ditch, into the interior. The scene which presented itself told a sad tale. There lay, round the tower, the bodies of friends and foes in equal numbers, with limbs torn, clothing burnt, and countenances blackened. With a sickening heart I searched for one form, if it could be distinguished from the other disfigured remains of humanity. It was not long before I recognised the uniform my brave friend had worn. He was lying directly under the wall, while one hand still grasped the jewelled sword I had seen Dona Dolores gird to his side. Yes, it was he, my gallant friend! I knew him by his features, though scorched and blackened and fearfully changed, and by a ring he had worn, as well as by the watch in his pocket.

Captain Laffan found me kneeling by the side of my dead friend, unable to restrain my grief.

"It is the fortune of war, Duncan. A more gallant fellow never breathed; and he died a noble death—in discharge of his duty," said my late dominie. "Don't give way, my boy; he did not die in vain."

"But Dona Dolores!" I exclaimed; "her heart will break when she hears of it."

"It's of sterner stuff than that, I've a notion. But come, we must see at once about giving him a soldier's grave while there is yet time, for we may soon have other work to do."

Taking my dead friend's sword, and his ring and watch, that I might give them to Dona Dolores, I rose from the ground.

In a short time Captain Antonio came up with the advance-guard. On counting the slain, we found that they numbered more than half the garrison. The rest might possibly have cut their way out; if not, they must have been taken prisoners, and, to a certainty, afterwards shot. A still greater number of Spaniards had been destroyed. All that we could suppose was, that Juan, when he found that successful resistance was impossible, had blown up the tower, and perished with such of the assailants as had made good their entrance.

A grave was dug for Juan beneath a wide-spreading tree, some little way up the valley. We there laid him to rest; and a volley having been fired over his remains, a heap of unhewn rocks was piled up above them to serve as the young Patriot's tomb.

"When our cause is triumphant, and peace returns, I will erect a marble monument to his memory," I said. And I kept my word.

Our men, in order to save themselves trouble, cast the remainder of the bodies into the river,—caring very little for thus horribly polluting the pure water. I had before thought war a terrible thing, but the scenes I had lately witnessed impressed me still more forcibly with a horror of its fearful results. What hundreds—what thousands, I might say—of human beings had perished miserably within the last few months! How many more, too, were doomed to die! Then I thought of the towns and villages committed to the flames; the corn-fields, the orchards, and gardens destroyed; and, more than all, of the widows and orphans who, while bewailing the loss of those they loved, their protectors and bread-winners, were doomed to struggle on in poverty; and the numberless families, formerly in affluence, now reduced to absolute beggary. Such was the state of my native land. And yet no one complained—all were ready to struggle on in the cause of Liberty; blaming, not those who had risen to fight for freedom, but the tyranny of their oppressors as the cause of all they endured.

While we were encamped at a neighbouring hamlet, which afforded sufficient means for defence, and enabled us to watch the fort, a despatch arrived for Juan, ordering him to evacuate it. Alas! had it come sooner, he and his companions might have preserved their lives, as I believe he would have succeeded, had he made the attempt, in cutting his way through the enemy; but, influenced by a stern sense of duty, he had held it after all hope of successfully defending it had gone. This added greatly to my grief at his loss.

General Bolivar had heard of the corps Uncle Richard had raised, and now sent forward requesting him to join his army without delay. By forced marches across the mountains, in which both officers and men suffered not a little, we reached the general's camp, and I had the honour of being introduced to him. I little expected to see so young a man. In person he was small, but well-made and muscular, and able to go through astonishing exertion—frequently marching on foot over mountains and plains without exhibiting the slightest fatigue. His eyes were dark, large, and full of fire and penetration, denoting wonderful energy of mind and greatness of soul. His nose was aquiline and well-formed, his face rather long, and his complexion somewhat sallow. As Uncle Richard and I had the honour of being invited to his table, I had an opportunity of seeing him in his social moments. He was lively in his manner, full of anecdote and conversation; and it was said that, like Buonaparte, he possessed the power of reading at once a man's character, and placing him in a position where his talents and abilities would prove useful to his country. He was also thoroughly disinterested, and so little regard did he pay to himself under the most severe privations, that he was always ready to share what he possessed with his companions-in-arms, to his last cigar or his last shirt. He was always cool, and invariably displayed the most undaunted courage. He was, to be sure, hasty in his temper, and often made use of intemperate expressions, abusing in no measured manner those who had annoyed him; but, at the same time, he was ever ready to make atonement to the person whose feelings might have been undeservedly wounded. In his bosom revenge was never harboured, and it was owing entirely to the atrocities committed by the Spaniards on the Patriots that he was induced to carry on against them that fearful war of extermination which so long raged throughout the country. Bolivar might not have been a hero to his own valet, but by those who truly understand heroic qualities he should be deservedly placed on a high niche in the temple of Fame. I may add that he was temperate in his diet, drank but a very moderate quantity of wine, never touched spirits, and that he seldom smoked. Generally he was the last to retire to rest, and the first to rise.

Soon after joining the army, to my surprise I met Lopez, now raised to the rank of colonel. He appeared to be intimate with many of the officers, but kept aloof from Captain Laffan and me, as well as from Uncle Richard, whom I should properly designate as Colonel Duffield.

We had marched forward until we heard that Murillo, with a large force, was in the neighbourhood.

One night Captain Laffan and I had been invited to dine with several English officers, and our host told us that he expected Colonel Lopez. However, when the dinner-hour arrived Colonel Lopez did not appear. A message was despatched to his quarters, but he was nowhere to be found.

"It's my belief," exclaimed Captain Laffan, "that the fellow has deserted! You will see that I am right; he was intending to do so when we met him."

Dinner over, we again retired to our quarters, and all was stillness in the camp. As I wished to take a few turns to enjoy the cool night air, I accompanied one of Bolivar's aides-de-camp who was about to visit the outposts, when we met a small body of troops marching towards headquarters. The officer in command gave the countersign, and they were allowed to proceed. Just then, who should we meet but Colonel Lopez, who informed my companion that he had some news of importance to communicate to General Bolivar respecting an intended movement of the enemy which he had just obtained from a deserter, and requested that he might be conducted to the general's tent.

"If you will remain here, I will immediately acquaint the general with what you say, and beg that you may be admitted," was the answer.

I returned with the aide-de-camp, but left him near Bolivar's tent to deliver the message. I had not got many yards off, however, when I heard a volley of musketry fired close to me, and directly, as it seemed, at the tent. An instant afterwards I saw a party of men, who must have followed close upon us, disappearing in the darkness.

"To arms!—to arms! the enemy are upon us!" was the cry, and soon general confusion ensued. The troops got under arms, and some fired in the direction taken by the fugitives, but in the darkness it was impossible to see whether any were hit. The fear was that the general must have been killed, and every one was in dismay until he himself rode round, quieting the alarm of the men. He had fortunately quitted his tent a few minutes previously, and was not many yards off when the firing took place. On examining his cot, it was found that three or four bullets had passed right through it, so that he must have been killed, or severely wounded, had he not providentially left his tent.

Few in the camp slept that night. A treacherous attempt had evidently been made to assassinate our general. When morning came we looked out in the direction of the enemy's camp. On the ground lay two bodies, and a party was sent out to bring them in. One of them was that of Colonel Lopez; and on his person was discovered a paper proposing a plan to Murillo for penetrating the camp with a party of Spaniards disguised as Patriots, and putting Bolivar to death. It was countersigned as approved of by the Spanish general. Such, then, was the fate of the rejected suitor of Dona Dolores.

I have not space to describe the several engagements which followed, but Colonel Duffield and Captain Laffan, who soon became a major, gained the credit they deserved for their gallantry on numerous occasions, and I had the satisfaction of being praised by Bolivar himself. However, the severe life we led at length affected both Major Laffan and me, and Colonel Duffield, in whose corps we served, insisted that we should return home to obtain the quiet and rest we required. The road was now open to Popayan, and we were able to travel with a small escort of invalids and wounded men, who, like ourselves, were unfit for service, and were anxious to return home.

With feelings of considerable anxiety we rode up to my father's house, for what might not have happened during our absence we could not tell. Great, therefore, was my joy when we were greeted at the entrance by my mother, Dona Maria, Rosa, and jolly little Hugh, who all threw their arms about my neck at once, and then bestowed a similar affectionate greeting on the major—who declared, as tears streamed down his cheeks, that it gave him as much joy to see them all well, as it had to beat the Spaniards in the last battle we had fought; while Lion, who had followed at my heels, was next saluted in nearly the same fashion, while he barked, yelped, and leaped about, evidently delighted to get home. Dona Maria looked very pale, and was evidently anxious about Uncle Richard, but we were able to give a very favourable account of him. Like many other wives, she had learned to endure her anxiety.

My father was out, but he soon returned, and expressed his satisfaction at the high encomiums which had been bestowed upon me by Colonel Duffield, and even by Bolivar himself.

"I have just come from visiting Dona Dolores," he said. "She has heard the report of Don Juan's death, but will not believe it; and I am afraid that it must be your painful task, Duncan, to convince her."

As soon as I could unpack the sword and the other articles which I had carefully preserved, I returned with my father to the house of the friend with whom she was staying. On hearing that I had come, she desired to see me alone. I felt more nervous than I had ever done in my life before, supposing that she would give way to her sorrow, and that it would be incumbent on me to endeavour to console her, impossible as that might be. What to say, indeed, I knew not.

I found her dressed in mourning for her father, and looking very pale. She was seated, but she rose when I entered, and advancing towards me, took my hand. Her eye fell on the sword, then on the ring on my finger.

"I know what you have to tell me, Duncan," she said in a deep-toned voice, but without a falter; "he died as I would have had him,—fighting bravely for the freedom of his country—for the same cause to which I dedicated my life. Give me that weapon: I would present it to you, but I must use it myself; not to avenge his death, but to take his place and wield it against the foes of Freedom. That ring—give it me; he sends it as a farewell token." She placed it on her finger. "Now, tell me the particulars."

I endeavoured to describe the circumstances of Juan's death, and how he had held the fort until all hope had gone.

She had remained standing during the time of our interview.

"Farewell, Duncan," she said at last. "I must prepare for a sterner life than I have hitherto led. As yet it has been one suited to a delicate creature like Dona Paula Salabariata—a mere scribe, endeavouring to incite others to do the task I should undertake myself."

I took my leave of Dona Dolores; and the next morning we heard that, attended by two servants, she had set out, habited in half-military costume, for the army. Some time passed before we heard of her again. She had joined a regiment, and taken part in every action. She seemed to bear a charmed life, too, for, although always in the thickest of the fight, the bullets passed her harmlessly by.

Years have rolled on since then, and the cause of Liberty has triumphed. When peace was obtained, I married my so-called cousin, the fair-haired Rosa; and my dear little sister became the wife of a gallant English officer who settled in the country.

I have described these scenes of warfare, not for the sake of encouraging a love of fighting, but for a very contrary object; and from the horrors I witnessed during that period, I am convinced that War is the greatest curse that can afflict a country, and I earnestly pray that the reign of Peace may soon commence on earth.

THE END