"What is it, Alzura? what's all the fuss about?" I asked, wearily getting off my mule—for we rode horses only when absolutely necessary.
"Oh, my dear Juan, you will be delighted," he replied, his face brimming with fun. "We are just going back to Challuanca. The viceroy is somewhere in our rear with all his army, and we have to run for it."
"My animal is dead-beat," said I gloomily.
"You must walk, and lead both animals. Never mind, dear boy; the excitement will keep you going," he answered, laughing.
"Hullo! is it you, Crawford? In luck's way again! And I've been worrying about your being left behind," said Plaza, coming up.
I did not exactly see where the luck came in; but the sound of the bugle cut short my reply, and I took my place in the column. That march was the longest twelve miles I remember. Sometimes riding, sometimes walking, aching in every limb, and more than half asleep, I plodded along the rocky path, dreamily wondering at every step whether I could take another. As soon as we arrived at Challuanca I just lay down on the bare ground, and was fast asleep in a second.
It was daylight when the sounds of bugles awakened me, and I rose sleepily. The army had disappeared, with the exception of our squadron, which I afterwards found formed part of the rearguard.
"Come on, sleepy-head," sang out Alzura, "or you'll get no breakfast. I've seen to your animals. A wonder they didn't kick you to death in the night!"
"The poor beasts were too tired to have a kick left in them. Where's General Sucre?"
"Going on to a place called Lambrama. Do you know Miller is a prisoner?"