sides, some platoons of infantry in ambush on their flanks. Texeira commanded the assault, and it was vigorously made. The enemy then pretended to fly. Our men started off eagerly in pursuit without ceasing to fire; but they were all at once attacked by the ambushed platoons, which they had not perceived, and which, taking them in flank, obliged them to repass the valley in disorder. We lost, in this rash skirmish, one of our best officers, Manoel N- who was much esteemed by our leader. But our line was soon formed again, and returned to the contest with fresh impetuosity; the enemy fell back, and retreated. There were not many killed or wounded on either side, few troops having been engaged.

In the mean time the enemy retired with precipitation, and we pursued them with equal eagerness; but their two lines of cavalry continuing to fly for the space of nine miles, we could not overtake them with our infantry. On approaching the Passa du Maremba, the leader of our advanced guard, Major Gracinta, informed the colonel that the enemy were passing their horses and oxen over the river in the greatest confusion, which in his opinion proved that they meant to continue their retreat. Texeira did not hesitate an instant; he ordered our little troop of horse to set off at a gallop, and commanded me to follow them as quickly as I could with my infantry. But this retreat was nothing but a feint on the part of our astute enemy, and unfortunately this feint only succeeded too well. From the inequalities of the ground, and the precipitation with which they had crossed it, the enemy were out of sight, and when arrived at the river, they had, as Major Gracinta had informed us, pushed their horses and oxen across, but the troops had concealed themselves behind the wooded hills, which entirely hid them from our sight.

These measures being taken, and having left a platoon to support their line of tirailleurs, the Imperialists, informed of the imprudence we had committed

in leaving our infantry behind us, made a countermarch, and their squadrons soon appeared ascending the slight acclivity from a valley. Our platoon, which was pursuing the enemy in their feigned retreat, was the first to perceive the snare, without having time to avoid it. Taken in flank. it was completely routed; our three other squadrons of cavalry shared the same fate, and that in spite of the courage and resolution of Texeira and some of our officers from RioGrande; in a few minutes our horsemen were broken and scattered about in all directions.

It was, as I bave said, upon troops almost all prisoners from the battle of Santa-Vittoria, that we had, perhaps too hastily, reckoned; in fact, they could scarcely be well affected towards our cause; then raw soldiers just come from the province, little accustomed to horse-exercise, they were thrown into confusion at the first charge, and with the exception of a few killed, allowed themselves almost all to be made prisoners. I lost none of the incidents of the catastrophe. Mounted upon a good horse, after having excited my men to march as quickly as possible, I had galloped forward, and from the summit of a hill followed with my eyes the sad results of the fight.

My infantry did all they could to arrive in time, but it was in vain. From the top of my eminence, I` judged that it was too late to recover the victory, but still soon enough to prevent all being lost.

I called to me a dozen of the most active and brave of my old companions; they accepted the challenge bravely. I left Major Perchetto in command of the rest, and, with this handful of valiant fellows, I took, at the summit of the hill, a position fortified by trees. From thence we made head against the enemy, who perceived they were not yet quite conquerors, and we served as a rallying-point to all such of our men as had not completely lost courage. After performing miracles of courage, the Colonel fell back upon us with a small number of horse; the rest of

the infantry joined us upon that point, and then the defence became terrible and sanguinary.

Strong in our position, and united, to the number of seventy-three, we fought with advantage; the enemy wanting infantry, and unaccustomed to fight with that arm, kept charging us in vain; five hundred excellent cavalry, all boiling with the pride of victory, exhausted themselves before a few resolute men, without being able for an instant to break them. And yet, in spite of this temporary advantage, it would not do to give the enemy time to re-unite their forces, of whom more than half were still employed in pursuing our fugitives; and above all, it was necessary to find a more substantial refuge than that which had hitherto protected us. A belt of trees presented itself at about the distance of a mile. We commenced our retreat, directing our course towards it. In vain the enemy endeavoured to break us; in vain they charged us as often as they found any advantage in the ground-all was of no use.

It was, moreover, in this circumstance a great advantage to us that the officers were armed with carbines; and as we were all disciplined men, all keeping close order, facing the enemy on whichever side they presented themselves, falling back in good order, with a terrible, well-directed fire, we gained our place of refuge, into which the enemy did not dare to penetrate. When once in our thicket, we soon found a clearing, and still in close order, still gun in hand, we awaited the night.

On all sides the enemy kept crying, "Surrender! Surrender!" but we only answered with our silence.

CHAPTER XXIX.

THE RETREAT.

NIGHT being come, we prepared for our departure : our intention was to resume the route to Lages. The greatest difficulty arose from the transporting of the wounded; particularly as Major Perchetto could not assist us in the least, he having been struck by a ball in the foot. Towards ten o'clock in the evening, having made the wounded as comfortable as we could, we began our march, abandoning our belt of trees, and endeavouring to follow the line of the forest. This forest, the largest perhaps in the world, extends from the alluvions of La Plata to those of the Amazon, those two queens of rivers, crowning the crests of the Serra de Espenaso to an extent of thirty-five degrees of latitude. I do not know its extent of longitude, but it must be immense.

The three departments of Cima-da-Serra, of Vaccaria, and Lages are, as I believe I have already said, situated in the clearings of this forest. Caritibani, a kind of colony established by the inhabitants of the city of Caritiba, situated in the district of Lages, a province of St. Catherine, was the theatre of the event I am relating. We kept along the sides, then, of our isolated wood, approaching as near to the forest as possible, and endeavouring to rejoin, in the direction of Lages, the corps of Aranha, which had left us at so ill a time.

On leaving the wood, there happened to us one of those events which prove how much man is the child of circumstances, and what a panic terror can effect even upon the most courageous. We were marching in silence, as our situation required, but prepared to meet our enemies if they opposed our retreat. A horse which happened to be on the skirts of the wood took fright at the little noise we made, and galloped away. A voice was then heard crying, "That is the

enemy!" In an instant, the seventy-three men who had resisted five hundred with so much courage, that it might be said they had conquered them, became terrified and took to flight, dispersing themselves in such a manner that it was a miracle some one of the fugitives did not run against an enemy and give the alarm.

I at length succeeded in getting together a little knot of men, round which by degrees the rest returned, so that at daybreak we were on the verge of the forest, directing our course towards Lages. The enemy, who had no idea of our flight, sought for us in vain on the following day.

On the day of battle the danger had been great, the fatigue enormous, the hunger imperious, the thirst burning; but it was necessary to fight, to fight for our lives, and this idea overpowered all others. But when once in the forest, it was not the same; we were in want of everything, and distress, no longer having the distraction of peril, made itself felt terribly, cruelly, insupportably. The absence of food, the weakness of all, the wounds of some, the want of means to dress them altogether, were enough to make us despond. We were four days without finding anything but roots; and I renounce the task of painting the fatigue we had in tracing a road through a forest where there does not exist even a footpath, and where nature, with pitiless fecundity, causes, beneath gigantic pines, to spring up and thicken a second forest of reeds, the remains of which in certain parts form insuperable ramparts.

Some of our men deserted in despair; it was an absolute labour to rally them and keep them in order. There was, perhaps, only one resource against this discouragement, and it was I who discovered it. I assembled them and told them that I gave them all liberty to depart, and each to go wherever he pleased, or to continue to march united and in a body, protecting the wounded, and defending each other. The