The position was very awkward. We were on a narrow road with no hiding-place at hand, and must either retreat rapidly or plump ourselves right into the arms of the strangers. In another minute we had no choice at all, as several dusky figures loomed up before us. Fortunately Colonel Miller favoured the practice of taking the bull by the horns, and levelling his pistol, he cried in a stern voice, "Halt! Who are you?" Taken by surprise, the men stopped, and we heard one of them say, "No, no; he's no Spaniard. I can tell by his speech." "Quite right," cried the colonel. "I'm an English officer in the Patriot army. Who are you? Make haste; we don't want to stay here all night." "We're deserters from General Canterac's army," replied one boldly, "and want to give ourselves up." "Then you're just right. We will return with you to the camp, or the sentries might shoot you.--Crawford, turn your horse round so that they can pass between us.--Now, my good fellows, march, and I hope for your own sakes that you've given a true account of yourselves." Thus we journeyed back to the camp, where, beside a good fire, Colonel Miller examined the prisoners. From them we learned that General Canterac had halted in a strong position halfway up the mountain; upon which I could see, by his restlessness, that the colonel was eager to resume the pursuit at once. A glance at his wearied men, however, showed him the folly of such an enterprise. "No," said he at last; "they couldn't stand it." Which was quite true. Having given the strangers into the charge of the guard, we unsaddled our horses, wrapped ourselves up, and lay down near the fire. Two seconds later we were fast asleep. At daybreak we were moving again, and I fancy the colonel felt glad he had not attempted to lead his men up the mountains in the darkness of night. The road was simply horrible, and the pass might have been defended by a score of resolute men against an army. Halfway up we received a check. O'Brien, going forward with a handful of men, got in touch with the enemy, who immediately turned about and threatened to overwhelm us by a sudden attack. Under some leaders we should most certainly have come to grief; but the colonel's cheery, smiling face kept the men at their posts. Drawing them up in a strong position, he awaited the attack calmly. "If you try to run away, my lads," he said pleasantly, "the Spaniards will make mincemeat of you; so it is wisest to stand firm." We watched three battalions come down from the height and halt just beyond musket-range. "I don't believe they're going to attack, after all!" exclaimed O'Brien excitedly. "Not until we move," answered the colonel, "and then they'll fall on us tooth and nail. I expect they are just gaining time while the main body gets away. It's aggravating, too, because they have the whip hand of us. We aren't strong enough to turn them out."