That night in bivouac we counted Santiago's venture had cost us more than two hundred men, all the spare horses, and a quantity of stores.
"I hope you are proud of your Royalist friend," said Alzura to me. "He has done us a nice bit of mischief."
"He's a smart soldier."
"He is that," agreed Plaza, "and a splendid swordsman. I had a good bout with him, but could not pass his guard, though he was defending himself against three of us."
"Did any one see the major after he fell?" I interrupted.
"No," said Alzura; "but I feel sure he is dead, as the bullet passed through his forehead. He was a grim old fighter, and I'm sorry he's gone."
"So am I. But he died a soldier's death, poor old chap," said Cordova. "We must have lost heavily since the retreat began. I wonder what Sucre intends doing now."
"Why, continuing the retreat."
"To Lima? If so, he won't have a hundred men left by the time he reaches the capital."
"Well, what can he do? We can't stay here and starve, and he can't make the Royalists fight."