not seriously wounded. I persuaded myself that by bringing him aid
quickly I was rendering him as good service as I might have given had
I remained at his side. I shut out the picture of him, faint and
bleeding, and opened my eyes to the work before us.

We were like the lost dogs on a race-course that run between lines of
hooting men. On every side we were assailed with cries. Even the
voices of women mocked at us. Men sprang at my bridle, and my horse
rode them down. They shot at us from the doors of the cafes, from
either curbstone. As we passed the barracks even the men of my own
native regiment raised their rifles and fired.

The nearest gun was at the end of the Calle Bogran, and we raced down
it, each with his revolver cocked, and held in front of him.

But before we reached the outpost I saw the men who formed it, pushing
their way toward us, bunched about their gatling with their clubbed
rifles warding off the blows of a mob that struck at them from every
side. They were ignorant of what had transpired; they did not know who
was, or who was not their official enemy, and they were unwilling to
fire upon the people, who a moment before, before the flag of Alvarez
had risen on Pecachua, had been their friends and comrades. These
friends now beset them like a pack of wolves. They hung upon their
flanks and stabbed at them from the front and rear. The air was filled
with broken tiles from the roofs, and with flying paving-stones.

When the men saw us they raised a broken cheer.

"Open that gun on them!" I shouted. "Clear the street, and push your
gun to the palace. Laguerre is there. Kill every man in this street if