Having travelled another league, we arrived, by a wild and crooked road, at the summit of a mountain covered with oak trees, where we saw a soldier of our regiment standing by the side of a goatherd's roofless hut, who told us that his master, Lieut. Folliet, had been mortally wounded four hours after we had taken leave of him on the previous day. A body of the enemy had pushed through the forest beyond the left flank of a brigade of the seventh division, and, rushing furiously through the wood towards the little detachment with loud shouts, and a rattling fusillade, had succeeded in scattering these young soldiers. On entering the hut, we saw the youthful sufferer, deadly pale, lying on his back, with his uniform, sash, sword and cap, died in blood and strewed about on the loose stones or rock, which formed the floor of the miserable hut. On seeing us, he extended his hand, and a momentary gleam of joy passed across his pallid features, as he mildly informed us that he was dying from a wound in the abdomen, which had caused him excruciating torture until mortification had ensued. He was quite resigned to his fate, and begged that we would not give way to melancholy, for that he was quite happy, and only hoped we thought he had done his duty; that the only grief he felt was from not having seen the regiment, the summit of all his ambition—before he expired. In a few hours he was no more; and having been enveloped in a blanket, he was interred under the wide-spreading branches of an oak tree, by the side of the ruined hut. Little at that time did my _three companions_ anticipate that, before the expiration of three months, two of them would be _buried_ in regions equally inhospitable. Lieut. Baillie was shot through the head, Captain Murchison in the groin, and Lieut. James Considine was dangerously wounded. In the evening we rejoined our brigade, which had returned to Santa Barbara, when we felt considerable pleasure in hearing they had not been engaged during our five days' absence. During the month of September, the enemy worked hard in sawing and felling timber to form abattis, and in constructing entrenchments. The right and left of our own army were employed in a similar manner. Towards the end of the month, I observed one of my messmates winding along the crest of the mountain, on his way from England, having recovered from a terrible wound. Our joy at meeting was very great; his at finding me still in the land of the living, and mine at seeing an old friend, whom, when last we parted, I never cherished the hope of meeting again.