Then he looked over the field. Moore, fatally lanced, lay under a palm, and many of his men were about him. Gillespie was wounded, Kearney had received an ugly thrust. The Californians, upon the arrival of the main body of the enemy's troops, had retreated unpursued; the mules attached to one of the American howitzers were scampering over to the opposite ranks, much to the consternation of Kearney. The sun, looking over the mountain, dissipated the gray smoke, and cast a theatrical light on the faces of the dead. Russell bent over Altimira. His head was shattered, but his death was avenged. Never had an American troop suffered a more humiliating defeat. Only six Californians lay on the field; and when the American surgeon, after attending to his own wounded, offered his services to Pico's, that indomitable general haughtily replied that he had none. "By Jove!" said Russell to Beale that night, "you know your Californians! I am prouder than ever of having married one! That army is of the stuff of which my mother-in-law is made!" XIV That was a gay Christmas at Monterey, despite the barricades in the street. News had come of the defeat of Kearney at San Pasqual, and the Montereños, inflated with hope and pride, gave little thought to the fact that his forces were now joined with Stockton's at San Diego. On Christmas eve light streamed from every window, bonfires flared on the hills; the streets were illuminated, and every one was abroad. The clear warm night was ablaze with fireworks; men and women were in their gala gowns; rockets shot upward amidst shrieks of delight which mingled oddly with the rolling of drums at muster; even the children caught the enthusiasm, religious and patriotic. "I suppose you would be glad to see even your friends driven out," said Brotherton to Doña Eustaquia, as they walked through the brilliant town toward the church: bells called them to witness the dramatic play of "The Shepherds." "I be glad to see the impertinent flag come down," said she, frankly; "but you can make resignation from the army, and have a little store on Alvarado Street. You can have beautiful silks and crêpes from America. I buy of you." "Thanks," he said grimly. "You would put a dunce cap on poor America, and stand her in a corner. If I resign, Doña Eustaquia, it will be to become a ranchero, not a shopkeeper. To tell the truth, I have little desire to leave California again." "But you were make for the fight," she said, looking up with some pride at the tall military figure, the erect head and strong features. "You not were make to lie in the hammock and horseback all day." "But I should do a good deal else, señora. I should raise cattle with some method; and I should have a library--and a wife." "Ah! you go to marry?" "Some day, I hope. It would be lonely to be a ranchero without a wife." "Truly." "What is the matter with those women?"