One and all had been wounded, but there was not a man who did not seem full of fight, and ready to stand his ground come what might.
On the other hand, although they had been in an engagement that day, and had pursued the Indians, the Spaniards were smooth-looking and well-dressed; not a hair seemed to be out of place, so that they presented a remarkable contrast to our grim-looking set.
They paused at a few yards’ distance, and I stood gazing over the top of the fence at their dress and weapons, all of which looked clean and well-kept, quite in keeping with the dignified, well-dressed wearers, who were looking at our people with a kind of tolerant contempt.
As they drew near, I recognised two of them as being of the party who had come before, and these two spoke to a broad-shouldered, swarthy-looking man, who nodded from time to time as if receiving his instructions. Then he stepped forward, looking from one to the other, and said, bluntly—
“Which of you is captain?”
There was a pause, every one being surprised at hearing our language so plainly spoken.
“You can address yourself to me,” said the General, quietly.
“Oh, that’s all right then. You see—”
“Stop a moment,” said the General. “You are an Englishman?”
“I was,” said the man; “but I’ve thrown in my lot here now, and I’m a Spaniard.”