and, finding there one of his own species, he forthwith seized him, and
shook him, and put him to flight howling,--giving an omen so favorable,
that the greasers were driven out of the town with ease by the others.
Even his every-day life was sublime, and elevated above the habit of
vulgar dogs. He allowed no man to think himself his master, or attach
him individually by liberal feeding or kind treatment, but quartered
indiscriminately amongst the foot, sometimes with one company, sometimes
with another,--taking food from whoever gave it, but showing little
gratitude, and despising caresses or attempts at familiarity. He seemed,
indeed, to consider himself one amongst the rest,--one and somewhat, as
they say; and his sole apparent tie with his human friends seemed to
be the delight which he took in seeing them kill or killed. With this
_penchant_, it was said, he never missed a battle, and went out with
every detachment that left the camp to see that none should escape him
unaware.--But enough of him,--strange dog, or devil.

The withdrawal from Obraja was opposed, so rumor said, by Henningsen and
other officers; and it certainly had a most depressing effect upon the
men, whilst it elated the enemy correspondingly, giving them a degree of
confidence which they had never attained to before. It was agreed on
all hands, by all critics whom I heard, that, having once begun this
attempt, General Walker should have carried it through successfully,
even if it required his whole force. However, as only part of the
enemy's force was on land, the other part being supposed to be
still aboard the steamers or on the island, General Walker
possibly feared an attack on Rivas, should he send out a very large
detachment,--remembering, too vividly, a former blunder, when he left
Granada with all his army to attack the enemy at Masaya, and the enemy,
making a _détour_, came upon his camp in Granada, and destroyed
baggage, ammunition, and all it contained.