tance with all possible speed up the Arroyo road, they stopped at the point selected. Instantly shovels, pickaxes, crowbars and ropes were out of the supply wagon, and for a few moments the sand flew as if electrified. Then the drivers yelled like Apaches; the mules were stimulated by every art known to drivers; and the swaying wagons headed for the ravine. At the brink many of the frightened animals, twisting their necks back till they almost broke, stopped short; but the men pushed them along, and down they all plunged, floundering, biting and kicking. Across the deep, sandy bottom they were driven or dragged amid shouts, curses and "hell let loose," as a soldier put it; and then came the real struggle — the opposite ascent, forty or fifty feet high. Wild with excitement, pain and fright, the animals exerted every nerve, scrambling, jumping, rearing and panting; the teamsters yelled and flogged; and the soldiers tugged and lifted at the wheels, or pulled with hundreds of ropes. In a few minutes, as it seemed, the incredible was done, and the command, forming on the plateau as before, advanced. Already the Mexican horse were dashing on, brandishing their lances in the sun, fluttering their bright pennons, and waving a black flag decorated with a skull and crossbones; but, as Doniphan did not appear to be making for El Torreón, they concluded to halt, and let the infantry and artillery overtake them.[1]
It was now a little before three o'clock, and when enough ground had been gained so that the traders and teamsters could make the caravan into a fort, Major Clark's trumpeter sounded "Trot!" and Battery A emerged from the masking wagons. "Form battery, action front, load and fire at will!" rang out Weightman's clear voice; and at a range of about half a mile solid shot, chain-shot and shells, perfectly aimed, saluted the lancers, who had never listened to such music before. Three rounds, and they broke. With great efforts they were rallied, but the fourth round sent them flying to the camp; and Ponce de León, the hero of El Brazito, who had led the advance, also led the flight. The infantry, now exposed to the American fire, caught the panic, and at the sound of the cannon-balls men crouched or lay down.[2]
An artillery duel followed. Most of the Mexican projectiles, falling short and bounding once or twice, lost enough velocity
