Two hours after the party of eleven left the village, a Mauser bullet from the clump of trees far to the right cut through the hat of one of the scouts who was some distance in advance of his fellows. As he saw the scout stoop to pick up his hat, Rogers turned to the man nearest him and remarked: "They'll get him sure as shootin' some day if he hikes along in that damn fool way." It was no new experience for the scouts to find the quarry gone when they reached the place where they expected to find him. Pilar's own scouts had found that the ambuscade was destined to fail of its purpose, and the wily leader drew back into the more accessible country. The scouting party did not come in sight of the little brown soldiers. The occasional crack of a Mauser broke the silence of the advance, keeping the Americans in active touch with the dangers that surrounded them. They found the deserted trenches and signs of recent occupation. The insurgents had been gone from the position less than two hours. Treachery faced the little squad of Americans on every side, but they did not falter. Connell scattered his men and they stole carefully into the fastnesses, finding on all sides evidences of hasty departure. Before noon they were far up in the hills, everywhere met by the physical assurance that the enemy was not far ahead of them. Behind them came Captain Groce and his men and the two correspondents. Amigos along the mountain road gave information that was not worth having. A deserted village showed signs of the passage and finally there was proof ahead that Pilar had stopped to give battle. He had reached his vantage ground. Connell and his men drew back and waited. Nightfall came and with it the spiteful crack of the Mauser rifle. A brawny trooper toppled over with a great hole in his head. Pilar's pickets could see like cats in the night. The native scout reported that the big village of Concepcion was not far ahead; Pilar's men were making their stand before this rather important stronghold. "We'll get a scrap that is a scrap, boys," said Connell, exultingly. "These fellows are going to put up a fight, at last. They're like bees up yonder. We've got to fall back on the company; if we don't, they'll chew us up before the little captain can get to us." Too well did the men know the bellicose temperament of the big Irishman to think of grumbling at such a command; yet, it was with a certain reluctance which invariably accompanies a backward step that the men retired to meet the advancing company.