A man must have himself experienced the feelings of a lucky player, who gains a decisive game, in order to understand the full extent of the delight which filled the Mexican general's heart. Still, he felt a moment of indescribable anxiety and agony when he saw the enemy halt on the bank of the stream, and remain there so long quiescent. He feared for a moment lest the Spaniards, guessing the trap laid for them, would turn back. All in that case would be left to the chances of a battle in the open with an experienced enemy accustomed to conquer, and who would, doubtless, contest the field warmly. But this apprehension soon faded away when the scouts crossed the ford. The decisive moment was at hand, and the Mexicans prepared seriously for action. "My friends," the general said to the persons who surrounded him, "here are the last relics of the troops of those who have oppressed us for three centuries. God has reserved for us the glory of fighting the last battle which will sully the sacred soil of our country with bloodshed. All our brothers have their eyes on us; they ask victory at our hands; shall we disappoint them?" "No!" the soldiers, electrified by these generous words answered as one man. "Swear to conquer!" the general continued. "We swear it!" they exclaimed enthusiastically. "It is well! I hold your promise, and God has heard it. _¡Méjico e independencia!_ Each to his post now, for blood is about to flow!" The officers hastily returned to the positions assigned to them, the soldiers lay down on the grass with their finger on the trigger, and all awaited with palpitating hearts the signal for action. At this moment the two detachments sent forward as scouts separated. Captain Castilla halted while Captain Obregozo formed his columns of attack, and continued his forward march. When the captain, resolved to carry out his duty thoroughly, entered the defile, a few well-aimed musket shots sufficed to destroy his weak escort, and the officer himself fell with a bullet through his chest. This brave officer was the first victim of this day, so fatal to the Spanish army. Unhappily, many others were fated to follow him. When the second detachment, which hurried up to the aid of the first, followed into the defile, the combat assumed the proportions of a battle. Unhappily, the Spaniards having no infantry, and covered by invisible foes, fell one after the other with cries of impotent rage. On all sides bullets hailed on them, against which they had no protection, and were unable to reply. At times, a bullet, aimed haphazard, or guided by destiny, reached an object it was not aimed at. The shrubs parted, and a corpse rolling down the precipice fell crushed at the feet of the horses.