The Bavarians, terrified at such formidable and unusual weapons of war, instantly hoisted a white flag, and unconditionally surrendered. About nine hundred men and two hundred horses thus fell into the hands of these three hundred Tyrolese, the rest having fallen or escaped. Of the peasants, only seven were killed and four wounded. Perhaps it was on this occasion that they drove their prisoners into a large cavern, threatening to shoot those who endeavoured to escape. Thus, without the help of the Austrians, the Tyrolese were successful in almost every encounter with their enemies; and these successes inspired them with the most confident hopes of effecting the liberation of their country. And now the Tyrolese drew together to fight their third victorious battle of Berg Isel. Their numbers amounted, at the utmost, to eighteen thousand, including about three hundred Austrian volunteers; while the Duke of Dantzic found himself at the head of twenty-five thousand disciplined troops, with forty pieces of artillery. But his men were unwilling to fight; the Tyrolese were burning to begin. Hofer commanded in person, and took up his quarters, as he had done in May, at the little inn of "the Spade," at Schönberg; where the bed on which he slept is shown with fond reverence to this day. The right wing was commanded by Speckbacher, under whom the brave Count Mohr led on the peasants of the Vintsghan. Father Joachim came up with the main body during the night; and, learning where Hofer was, immediately repaired to him. The tired Sandwirth was soundly sleeping when a vigorous hand shook him by the arm, and he started up, looking a little bewildered, till he recognised the Capuchin. "Is it break of day, father?" said he, rubbing his eyes. "I'm ready." "Arise, and follow me," said Father Joachim briefly. Hofer, in some surprise, rose, hastily dressed, girt on his sword, and mutely obeyed. The Capuchin went out into the open air, looked up a moment at the stars, and then strode forward without speaking a word. After a time, they found themselves in a little country churchyard, with garlands, crosses, and little vessels of holy water over many a rustic grave. The Capuchin walked on towards a large crucifix; and then pausing and addressing his companion, said in a low voice, "Let us pray; but not too loudly, for we are close to the Austrian lines." The next moment they were murmuring-- Lord, have mercy upon us. Christ, have mercy upon us. Lord, have mercy upon us. Then Father Joachim poured out his soul in prayer and supplication--in Latin? Oh no!--There are emergencies when the stanchest Roman Catholic must, if he pray at all, make his petitions in the words that come first. Father Joachim's were strong and simple. The action commenced at six o'clock the next morning, August the 12th. The plan of attack very much resembled that of the 29th of May.