the three squadrons came charging furiously along.

Up sprang thirty of our men to receive them. Their orders were to fire
slowly, and not throw away a shot, but the gleaming sabres and rapid
approach of the dragoons flurried some of them, and firing a hasty
volley, they jumped down the bank again. This precipitation had nearly
been fatal to us. Several of the dragoons fell, and there was some
confusion and a momentary faltering amongst the others; but they still
came on. At this critical moment, Wharton and myself, with the
reserves, showed ourselves on the bank. "Slow and sure-mark your men!"
shouted we both. Wharton on the right and I on the left. The command
was obeyed: rifle after rifle cracked off, always aimed at the
foremost of the dragoons, and at every report a saddle was emptied.
Before we had all fired, Fanning and a dozen of his sharpest men had
again loaded, and were by our side. For nearly a minute the Mexicans
remained, as if stupefied by our murderous fire, and uncertain whether
to advance or retire; but as those who attempted the former, were
invariably shot down, they at last began a retreat, which was soon
converted into a rout. We gave them a farewell volley, which eased a
few more horses of their riders, and then got under cover again, to
await what might next occur.

But the Mexican caballeros had no notion of coming up to the scratch a
third time. They kept patrolling about, some three or four hundred
yards off, and firing volleys at us, which they were able to do with
perfect impunity, as at that distance we did not think proper to
return a shot.

The skirmish had lasted nearly three quarters of an hour. Strange to
say, we had not had a single man wounded, although at times the