Don Zeno Cabral perceived at a glance the difficulties of the ground on which it was necessary to fight, and where it was impossible for the men to manoeuvre their horses.
All his efforts were then directed to enlarge the field of battle. The Montoneros, grouped firmly around him, boldly charged the enemy several times without succeeding in breaking through them; the position was well attacked and well defended; they fought Montoneros against Montoneros, bandits against bandits.
The chief of the patriots knew with what enemies he had to contend: their red ponchos—a uniform adopted by the Pincheyras—had caused them to be recognised as soon as daylight had come.
For during the desperate combat that the two troops had been waging, the sun had risen.
Unhappily the light of day, in revealing the small number of the patriots, rendered their defeat more probable.
The Pincheyras, furious at having been so long held in check by so feeble a detachment, redoubled their efforts to completely defeat them.
But the latter were not discouraged; led a last time to the charge by their intrepid chief, they rushed with fury on their enemies, who vainly tried to bar their passage.
The Montoneros had succeeded in overturning the human barrier raised before them, and had gained the plain.
But at the price of what sacrifices!
Twenty of their men were lying lifeless on the rocks,—the survivors to the number of about fifteen at the most, were, for the most part, wounded and weighed down by the fatigue of the unequal combat they had so long to sustain.