"He hasn’t. So far he has advanced," said Edgeworth. "But I ride back with you in the morning, boys, and I think great things are going to happen before long. Besides the men with you, Middleton, we’ve use for everything you’ve got in the wagons. You won’t suffer, Mr. Woodfall." The train moved the next morning an hour earlier than usual. Wheels were turning before daylight. Hearts were beating high, and they pushed on at great speed now, for wagons, until past sunset. In the middle of the day it was hot, in the evening chill winds blew down from the crests of distant mountains, but at all times, morning, noon, and evening, they marched in a cloud of dust, much of it impregnated with alkali. It annoyed Phil and his comrades terribly, sifting into nose, mouth, ears, and eyes, putting a bitter taste on the palate, and making them long for the sweet waters of the pool in which they had bathed so luxuriously. The next day was the same; more dust, more alkali, and the deadly monotony of a treeless and sandy plain. But that night it was extremely cold. They were approaching the mountains, the spurs of the Sierra Madre, and the winds were sharp with the touch of ice and snow. Winter, also, had come, and in the night ice formed in the infrequent rivulets on the plain. Now and then they passed little Mexican villages, mostly of the adobe huts, with dirt and children strewed about in great quantities. The children were friendly enough, but the women scowled, and the men were away. Phil did not find the villages picturesque or attractive in any sense, and he was disappointed. "I hope this isn’t the best Mexico has to show," he said. "It isn’t very inviting," said Bill Breakstone, "you wouldn’t look around here for a Forest of Arden or a Vale of Vallombrosa, but this is only the introduction to Mexico. Monterey, which General Taylor took, is a fine city, and so are others farther down. I’ve seen a lot of them myself. Don’t you worry, Phil, you’ll find enough to interest you before you get through." They also picked up some wandering scouts and hunters, who joined them in their march. Several of these brought news. Taylor was at Saltillo, and his force was small. The Mexicans were raiding to the very outskirts of the city, and they looked upon Taylor’s army as already destroyed. The American force of about four thousand five hundred men contained less than five hundred regular troops. The others, although good material, were raw volunteers, very few of whom had been under fire.