The owners of these establishments are consequently men belonging to the highest society, and the richest and most intelligent class in the country. The majority prefer residing in the cities, and visit only at long intervals their haciendas, the management of which they entrust to the major-domo and capataz, who are themselves semi-savages, whose life is spent in riding constantly from one end to the other of the hacienda. The Larch-tree hacienda, but a short distance from the mountains whose passes it commanded, was therefore of great strategetical value to both the parties now disputing the possession of Texas. The insurgent chiefs understood this as well as the Mexican generals did. After the total destruction of the detachment commanded by Captain Melendez, General Rubio hastened to throw a powerful garrison into the Larch-tree. As an old soldier of the Independence, accustomed to the incessant struggles of a people that desires to be free, he had divined the revolution behind the insurrection, on seeing that for ten years past these insurgents, though incessantly conquered, seemed to grow from their ashes again to return more obstinate and powerful than before, and expose their chests to the pitiless bullets of their oppressors. He was aware that the inhabitants only awaited the announcement of a success, even though problematical, to rise to a man, and make common cause with the daring partisans, branded by their enemies with the name of Border ruffians, but who in reality were only the forlorn hope of a revolution, and apostles acting under a holy and noble idea. Far from offering Captain Melendez reproaches, which he knew that the latter did not deserve, the General pitied and consoled him. "You have your revenge to take, Colonel," he said to him, for this grade, long deserved by the young officer, had just been given him by the President of the Republic; "your new epaulettes have not yet smelt powder. I propose giving you a splendid opportunity for christening them." "You will fulfil my wishes, General," the young officer replied, "by entrusting me with a perilous enterprise, my success in which will serve to wipe out the shame of my defeat." "There is no shame, Colonel," the General replied, kindly, "in being conquered as you were. War is only a game like any other, in which chance often declares for the weaker side; let us not despond at an insignificant check, but try, on the contrary, to cut the comb of these cocks who, pluming themselves on their ephemeral triumph, doubtless imagine that we are terrified and demoralised by their victory." "Be assured, General, that I will help you to the best of my ability. Whatever be the post you confide to me, I will die at it before surrendering." "An officer, my friend, must put off that impetuosity which so well becomes the soldier, but it is a grave fault in a Chief trusted with the lives of his fellow men. Do not forget that you are a head, and not an arm."