Daylight once more. But it found me happy and content, for the difficulties of the passage of the wide inlet, which had confronted me the night before, had all been surmounted. I was now in a densely wooded point on the western side of the bay. Between me and San Diego lay a wild no man's land of fifty miles. That meant only two nights more of peril and uncertainty, and it was all straight going. So far as the coast line was concerned I was outside of the Spanish lines. Tired out and very well contented, just as the sun rose fiery red above the horizon, I lay down and was at once in dreamland. At noon, hungry and with only a few ounces of food to satisfy my hunger, I woke. Finishing my last bit of ham and bread, I lighted a cigar and set about planning. Pulling out my little map, I began to scan it for the thousandth time. About six miles to the north was the little town of San Miguel. Between me and San Diego lay fifty miles of wild country swept by fire and sword, without an inhabitant and without food. Hungry as I already was, I felt it would not do to undertake a two days' journey through that wilderness without eating. Of course I made a mistake. I was clear of the toils, and I ought to have taken every and any chance rather than enter the enemy's lines again. I resolved, soon after night came, to set out for San Miguel, watch my chance to enter a shop and purchase food, then, beating a hasty retreat, strike out across the country straight for San Diego, there to find myself among friends in the rebel camp. I set out and without any particular adventure arrived about 9 o'clock at San Miguel. It proved to be a hamlet with the houses ranged close together on opposite sides of the streets. The moonlight cast a deep shadow on one side, while the opposite side was almost like day. I stood in the deep shadow watching. The first building was evidently a police or military barrack. The door was wide open, but no one was visible inside. About five doors off was a shop, but the door was closed, and from where I stood there appeared no sign of life within. I waited about ten minutes, and rashly concluding that there was no one save the proprietor there, I stepped out of the shadow into the moonlight and hurrying across the street, put my hand on the door, opened it and stepping within found myself in the presence of twenty soldiers, all gossiping, smoking or gambling. Belts and cartridge boxes along with bayonets decorated the walls or were lying about on boxes and barrels. All eyes were turned on me. I saw myself in a fearful trap and nothing but consummate coolness could keep them from questioning me. My heart beat fast, but with an affectation of indifference I saluted and said: "Buenos noches, senores." They all returned my salutation, but looked at each other eagerly, each waiting for the other to question me.