We reached Mazatlan at noon. The day after, Telles marched to Urias, with his whole force and artillery; but, hearing a report that the Americans were coming to attack him with bombas, retreated the same day to Castillo, where he again encamped.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A month had elapsed since the occupation of Mazatlan, and we had all been busily employed upon the fortifications, and in acquiring a little knowledge of our new duties on shore: we dropped the sailor and assumed the soldier; forgot all about rigging and ships; talked of roll-calls, reveillés, parades, countersigns, drills, sections, ditches, and parapets; the officers of the day, too, appeared in red silk sashes round the waist, with swords at their sides—sat in guard-rooms—sung out, "Sergeant, let that man pass," or, "Corporal, let the fatigue parties fall in"—quite like generals of division. I had only been a week in barracks, at the Cuartel, and getting initiated in the mysteries of soldiership, when, the fever making sad havoc among our ranks, I was ordered to relieve the company stationed at the Garita, where the illness had been unusually severe. The position was a conical eminence, within three hundred yards of the sea beach, nearly surrounded by lagoons, and entirely commanding the main road to the port. The hill was originally owned by a gentleman, who, after building a decent little balconied dwelling thereon, for a summer retreat, eventually had the satisfaction of removing his family thence, in carts, to the more wholesome air of the town. In consequence of its unhealthy situation, caused by miasma that arose from the stagnant pools below, it was not considered a desirable post, notwithstanding its pretty location; and I may as well add, that out of one hundred and seven officers and men who had been stationed there, I was the sole individual that was not taken ill with fever during the six months of our stay. Previous to my occupation, an energetic brother officer had already raised a breast-high stone wall, and three guns had been planted in battery. It was a place of much importance, and an equal degree of annoyance; for we were obliged, with a small force of thirty men, to be extremely vigilant, and were kept chattering, from morn until night, in examining hundreds who were passing to and from the port. The house was filled with fleas, too, whose attacks were far more troublesome than the Mexicans; however, after a hard war of six weeks, constantly deluging the floors with salt water, they migrated in a body, and we were never again molested. Workmen came, re-plastered and washed the walls, repaired windows and doors, restored cook-house and stable, so that in the end we found ourselves more pleasantly quartered than in any other position in town, and had no wish to leave. At the same time large working parties were detailed daily from the main barracks, who were employed digging a deep, wide ditch, throwing up an embankment, and raising a heavy stone wall immediately around what the peasantry designated our casa blanca—white house.
During this period the military force outside committed robberies unceasingly. A few miles beyond our lines the roads were strongly guarded during the day, but at night were left open—the lancers and cavalry retiring beyond our reach. Our force was too small to occupy the roads permanently, without imprudently weakening the garrison of the town; consequently, those thieving gentry, under the name of alcobala, levied tribute in the most impartial manner, upon all their poor countrymen alike. We had frequently gone out in small ambuscading parties in hopes of picking off a few of the ladrons, but without any success. Scarcely a single individual out of hundreds who passed the Garita but had some bitter curses to lavish upon the lanceros; even the poor women occasionally were muleted in their petticoats, until at last they all became exasperated, and many volunteered to conduct us to the retreats of their tormentors. The services of one brave paisano were called into requisition, who had been robbed of his hogs, which being valuable property among the peasantry, and his revenge being warm, we thought he could be trusted, and indeed a staunch and valuable ally he ever afterwards proved. The expedition was under command of Captain Luigi, and with fifty-five men we left the Cuartel, without beat of drum, at nine in the evening. Leaving the main road at the Marisma, we entered a pathway, closely sheltered by trees and foliage, and after two hours rapid marching, halted at a cluster of ranchos by the roadside. Here we could only learn that the Mexican cavalry had passed by at sunset; but during an examination of one of the huts, we laid violent hands upon a rude squint-eyed youth, who though half naked, and apparently stupid, had a bag of dollars tied up in the tail of his shirt; him we interrogated with a bayonet at his throat, and there were sufficient symptoms of intelligence in him left to assure us that if he himself were not attached to the party we sought, he knew the bivouac. With a riata around his neck, and carefully guarded, we again advanced. Four miles beyond, we reached the encampment; it was situated in a flat little meadow, a few feet lower than the road, and girdled nearly around by the gully of a water-course that hemmed it in on all sides. Our march had been so silent as not to create alarm, and strange to say there was not a sentinel awake. Embers of the watch-fires gave sufficient light to distinguish the sleeping figures of the troops, with horses picketted near. We divided our forces into two parties, one commanding the pathway to the meadow, whilst the other poured in a deadly fire, and immediately charged across the ravine. Taken completely by surprise, they jumped up in great consternation, and in their flight received the bullets from our remaining muskets; before we could reload they were flying, like so many ghosts, across the field, leaving everything behind. On gaining the bivouac, we found it quite a picturesque little glade, shaded by lofty forest-trees, and beneath, were a number of bough-built huts, verging on the rivulet that crossed the road. We counted eight dead bodies: one poor youth was breathing his last. By the fitful light of a torch I tore open a bale of linen at hand, passed some thick folds over the welling blood of his wounds, placed a drop of brandy to his lips, and left him to die. They were sixty in number, and we captured all they had—carbines, lances, ammunition, horses, saddles, and clothing, besides their private correspondence.
There was one incident connected with this escaramuza, which was a source of deep regret to us. The wife and daughter of the commanding officer had, very imprudently, been on a visit to the encampment. When the attack commenced, they were sleeping in a hut, and immediately fled; but the child, a little girl of ten years, had been grazed by a ball in the foot, and told her mother the pebbles hurt her feet; the kind but unfortunate woman ran back, in the thickest of the fire, for the child's shoes, and, upon returning, received a mortal wound in the throat. She was found by her friends, and died the following day—
"O! femme c'est a tort qu'on vous nomme timide,
A la voix de vos cœurs vous etes intrepide."