posture and the increasing unfriendliness of the people, no attempt should be made to hold territory beyond Monterey. or at most beyond the mountains; but the decision was confided to the General, and he set out the next day.[1]
Advancing, then, by the left bank of the swift Santa Catarina River, at this time of the year but an insignificant stream, the column ascended gradually, passed the Village of that name, and after marching nearly 28 miles came to a small bridge and a group of handsome live — oaks Next the road descended a little, and, enclosed much of the way by lines of trees and maguey,[2] pursued the same general direction until it reached the hacienda of Rinconada, a mile or so farther on. Up to this point the majestic ranges of the Sierra Madre, nearly destitute of vegetation, though here and there brightened by a white thread of water, had stood about six miles apart; but now they closed in, and the road, turning, sharply to the left, plunged into a grand and sombre gorge known as the Pass of Rinconada. For three miles or more it ascended steeply between gray and frowning walls of stone decorated only with a few hardy and prickly growths, and sometimes partly hidden by the clouds; but finally the summit was gained, and before long the farm of Los Muertos (The Dead) came in sight with its bare, vertical cliffs and its huge cairn of cobble-stones — probably a memorial to some party of travellers murdered by robbers — which gave a grim significance to the name.[3]
Here the Americans gazed with special interest at Mexican Works intended to check their advance. Not willing to give up this natural fastness Ampudia, in spite of the orders to withdraw, had undertaken to fortify it; but soon, discovering that more extensive defences than he possessed the means to erect and equip would be needful, to prevent the position from being turned, he had prudently concluded to dismantle his fortifications and retreat. The gorge now expanded, and gave place to a long, wide, open Valley extending to Saltillo. Here gardens, fields and Crops were seen once more, but how different! Instead of the orange and lemon groves, the bananas and figs of Monterey, with the languid smokes of sugar-houses rising in the distance, the soldiers beheld fields of wheat and oats, and orchards of cherries and apples. In short, a march of 65 or 70 miles had transported them to New England.[4]
