Loyal men are on the walls of the fort. Far away
on the Presidio grounds, he can see the blue regiments of Carleton's
troops, at exercise, wheel at drill. The sweeping line of a cavalry
battalion moves, their sabres flash as the lines dash on. These
men are now his foes. The tossing breakers of the bar throw their
spray high over bulwarks and guard. In grim determination he
watches the last American flag he ever will see in friendship, till
it fades away from sight. He has now taken the irrevocable step.
When he steps on Mexican soil, he will be "a man without a country."
Prudential reasons keep him aloof from his companions until Guaymas
is reached. Once ashore, the comrades openly unite. Without delay
the party plunges into the interior. Well armed, splendidly mounted,
they assume a semi-military discipline. The Mexicans are none too
friendly. Valois has abundant gold, as well as forty thousand
dollars in drafts on Havana, the proceeds of Lagunitas' future
returns advanced by Hardin.
Twenty days' march up the Yaqui Valley, through Arispe, where the
filibusters died with Spartan bravery, is a weary jaunt. But high
hopes buoy them up. Over mesa and gorge, past hacienda and Indian
settlement, they climb passes until the great mountains break away.
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