Regiment secured quarters in a large stone barn—and just in time. A cold rain began to fall.
The Mexican batteries kept firing at the barn with a twenty-four-pounder; once in a while a round shot landed upon the mud roof or shook the solid walls, but the rain and the gathering dusk made poor practice for them, and after a time the men grew used to the bombardment.
Finally the shots ceased. Up the road the San Antonio soldiers were having a celebration. There was much singing and howling and squawking of bands, together with the firing of muskets.
"Now I wonder what's the reason of all that?" Henry Brewer of Jerry's mess remarked. "Is it because they killed one man, or do they think they've beaten us off? Seems to me it takes mighty little to make those fellows happy."
"Aye; and to-morrow they'll be singing a different tune," said John Doane.
"Did soombody obsarve this marn that we'd be makin' a spoon or spoilin' a horn?" asked Scotty MacPheel. "Faith, whin we carry yon batteries I doot soom of us 'll no hae muckle mair use for a spoon or any ither tool except a spade."
"Right-o, Scotty," Corporal Finerty agreed. "For me military eye tells me there's a job ahead of us, though I'm not sayin' the First Division can't handle it. Sure it's no secret what the ingineers reported; all the officers know it, an' I've an ear on either side o' my topknot. The Mexicans ferninst us are snug an' tight, wid a reinforcement o' two regiments from the north, an' thray thousand men all tould, an' batteries fetched clear from El Peñon an'
