There were constant reports coming to San Juan of Corral’s intention to advance against the democratic force. But the rainy season made the roads difficult to pass, and swelled the water-courses so bodies of men could not cross them with ease, unless having more facilities than are to be found in Central American armies. A report, however, that Corral had actually marched, coming with some probabilities of truth, induced Walker to march out to meet him, and, if possible, bring him to action unexpectedly. A day or two, therefore, after the steamer sailed, the Falange, accompanied by Valle’s command, was marched late at night to the hill, a little over a league distant from San Juan, on the transit road; and on the side of the hill next to Virgin Bay the whole force was placed in ambush to await the approach of Corral. The night was dark and dismal, the rain falling now slowly and like a heavy mist, then rapidly and in drops nearly as big as a revolver bullet; but the men stood to their places, sheltering themselves under the large trees which cover the sides of the hill, and being careful to keep their cartridge-boxes dry, drawing them, for this purpose, to the front part of the belt, and bending over so as to protect the precious powder with their bodies. Such situations have their excitements and pleasures as well as their discomforts; and although, when the morning came, and no enemy appeared, the force looked wet and weather-beaten, it marched at a brisk and cheerful pace to the Half-way house, where a ration of liquor made the men as fresh and lively as if they had passed the night in a palace.