7th.—I arose from the guard-fire, where I had been stretched the last three hours dull and sleepy, having been on duty all the former part of the night; I went to my mess, whom I found eating breakfast. As soon as we got through, our command started and travelled 30 miles. Here we stopped at a ranch, near which are several springs bursting from a bank, the water of which is very clear, but very warm, and of a most disagreeable taste. A few hundred yards from the camp we saw a large deserted fort, also a coral, which our boys tore down to cook with. The face of the country has nothing to recommend it, but a vast variety of cactus, beautifully in bloom all over the sandy plains. Covered with dust, I found a bath in the hot springs very refreshing to-night.
Sunday, 9th.—Pursued our way uninterruptedly the past two days and travelled 40 miles. At night we encamped at a town called Mapemilla. At our approach the inhabitants fled to the mountains. It was a fine night, and their fires in the distance, dotting the mountain side, had a singular and romantic effect. News met us here that Gen. Scott had whipped Santa Anna, which caused Col. Doniphan to fire a salute of 29 rounds.
10th.—At 3 o’clock this morning the reveille sounded. A little coarse bread, and coffee without sugar, constituted breakfast, on which we travelled 30 miles. We halted late at night at a ranch called San Sebastian, on the Rio Mosas, a stream sufficiently large for swimming. It was soon covered with our soldiers enjoying this rare luxury.
11th.—At an early hour we had to bury two of our men, who died yesterday. They were found last night (after our fatiguing march of 30 miles) dead in the wagons. They were buried in a warlike manner. We crossed the river two miles below the town, and pursued our route 30 miles to another village, called San Lorenzo. Here we encamped, but suffered much inconvenience from want of water, having to use it very sparingly. To-night another grave was opened for another of our men.
12th.—As usual, our whole command was put in motion at three o’clock, and after marching seven miles through a thick dust, had orders to halt and turn back, for we had left the right road behind. Our army turned about and travelled several miles until we got right. At the end of 18 miles we encamped on the Rio Mosas. Here, unable to join the swimmers from a violent attack of ear-ache, accompanied with a most painful sore mouth, which latter I have suffered with since leaving Chihuahua, I went to a Dutch surgeon for advice. He looked in my mouth a few seconds, and with an air of confidence declared that nothing ailed me. I determined thereafter to bear my pains like a hero, and almost vowed that I would never pester a Dutchman either for his sympathy or his prescriptions.
13th.—This morning we started early, and after travelling 30 miles reached a ranch. The first objects that met our eyes were six Indians lying dead. They had been killed by our advance guard of about 30 rank and file, under Capt. Reid. The guard was unexpectedly attacked by a body of Indians, which they repulsed, after killing 13 of their number, with their chief. He must have been a desperate warrior, for even after he was shot down, and to the last moment of his life, he tried to use his bow and arrows. These fellows were seen coming from a gap of the mountain, some distance off, making direct for our little party, who went out at full gallop to meet them. A discharge of arrows was met by a volley from our men. A considerable skirmish now ensued. The Indians raising the war-whoop, rushed on them, discharging their arrows with incredible rapidity; but they were forced to retreat, and these bodies were dragged hither as trophies.
14th.—About one o’clock in the night, while our wearied soldiers slept, two guns were heard. In an instant our Captain jumped to his feet, and hurriedly went over the ground to wake us all up. In a few moments every man had on his arms. After waiting some time for the enemy, news came that one of the Lieutenants was shot through the hand. It appears that this Lieutenant was officer of the night, and in his rounds, tried to take a sentinel by surprise. Creeping stealthily on the ground to the spot, he was told by the sentinel to stop and give the countersign. No answer being returned, he fired. As soon as he found that he was shot in the hand he returned the charge on the sentinel. But no one can tell as yet who this watchful sentinel is. I made up a fire to prepare coffee. At two o’clock the reveille sounded for all to saddle up. At four we started, and after marching 25 miles came in sight of Parras, a large city. Our Adjutant chose a place for us to encamp, which is in a beautiful grove of ornamental cotton trees. The scene is new and pleasant. Here are trees, green cornfields, and running streams. The gardens in and around the city are beautifully arranged, and tastefully supplied with ripe apricots, oranges and lemons; also a great variety of flowering shrubs and plants.
15th.—We are to pass a day or two here I believe, resting from our long travel. This morning one of our wagon drivers, who is a sailor, went up town, and by some means, most unfortunately, offended several of the Mexican gentlemen. Complaint was made to the alcalde, who ordered Jack to be taken to the caliboose and flogged, going in person to see it done. But Jack knocked him down and broke his sabre in pieces—whipping several others who came to the rescue, and finally walked off to camp completely victorious. Word was brought to Col. Doniphan about the conduct of his man, who gravely told the people that if Gen. Wool could do any thing with his men, it was more than he could with his. He said it was now too late for him to keep them in order, therefore, he should leave on Monday.
Sunday, 16th.—Preparations are going on in different departments for the renewal of our march to-morrow. The expectation of soon encountering Generals Taylor and Wool, appears to inspire our men with a desire to look decent. Old clothes are being washed—sundry holes in deerskin pants are in the process of repair, and I think we shall not look so very ragged, after all.
17th.—Moved out of town at three o’clock, P. M. After marching five miles through a broken, bare country, we came to a house, whose shingled roof indicated that its builder had been educated in the United States. We found it even so, although the man was a Mexican. We made a journey of 25 miles to-day, and had a supper of excessively tough beef, and coarse bread.