The men cheered with a will and shook their sabres; we settled more firmly in our saddles; the colonel rode to the front; the squadron moved forward and broke into a trot. Men and officers alike knew that our leader had spoken no more than the truth. We must win or die! On us alone hung the issue of the battle. If we failed, hardly a man of the Patriot cavalry would leave the field alive; if we won, the Royalists must stop the pursuit in order to help their comrades.
It was a heavy task, but one thought cheered and nerved us. We were all Peruvians belonging to the Legion, and it was but fitting that the desperate venture should fall to us. How our infantry battalion would cheer, how proudly they would greet us, should we return victorious! It would be glorious to show both friends and enemies that the Peruvians could strike a stout blow in their own defence.
"Gallop!"
We received the order with a cheer, bent low in the saddle, and grasped our sabres firmly. Suares knew his work, and led us across a wide stretch of smooth, firm ground, the very spot for a cavalry charge.
Finding themselves between two foes, the Royalists faced about and dashed at us. The shock was tremendous: men and horses were bowled over like ninepins; great gaps appeared in the ranks; men went down and were trampled under foot in the furious fray; there was a ring of steel as sabre clashed with sabre, and the defiant shouts of the combatants mingled with the groans of the wounded.
Reeling and panting, I found myself on the other side of the press. Plaza was there, too, with a dozen of his men. Alzura broke through smiling in spite of a nasty cut across the face, and was followed by many more. Then above the din General Miller's voice was heard, and we flushed with pride.
"Bravo, my boys!" he cried; "I'm proud of you! All the army will sing your praises presently."
Freed from the Royalists, his men had got out of the swamp, and now came to join us. The few Colombians who had cut their way through in the first attack galloped back, and inspirited by General Miller's stern "Hurrah!" we once more flung ourselves on the foe. It was steel to steel now, and the Spaniards stood their ground well till they saw their comrades retreating from the defile. Then, with the exception of a devoted few who stayed in a grim ring around the standard-bearer, they turned to flee.
"The flag!" cried the general; "have at the flag!" And like a torrent in flood, we swept down on the little band.
"Rally to the flag!" cried a voice I knew well, and the next instant I was crossing swords with Santiago Mariano. I do not care much to dwell on this part of the fight. These Royalists were the pick of their squadron, and it seemed as if each man would die where he fought rather than surrender the colours. Three or four times the flag disappeared, but came up again the next instant, and presently I saw it borne aloft by Santiago, who had been forced away from me in the fierce turmoil. Hardly a dozen men remained with him now, and we were all round him.