Their disappointment was brightened somewhat by the joy with which Francisco hailed his liberty. He embraced his American friends, and showered upon them praises for their action in his behalf. When he was told about his mother, he grew less demonstrative, but learning that she was unharmed, with a promise of good protection, he recovered exuberance of spirits.
"I shall accept any commission General Castro will bestow upon me," he said, "and I will show him my fealty to him and the true government of my country. I am impatient to see him."
Knowing nothing could be gained by remaining longer at San Carlos, our heroes returned to the army at once. Having learned that he had removed to Ocumare, they headed thither, learning all along the way that the insurgents were everywhere successful, until it seemed as if the government was doomed. These accounts were rendered more hopeless to the cause by the fact that before they could reach him, Castro had begun his retreat toward Caracas.
In the face of this, he issued his decree of amnesty to all insurgents laying down arms within forty days.
"Unless he makes some more decided stand and wins a decided victory to offset all this noise on the other side, Castro will have no government for them to lay down their arms to," said Jack, grimly. "Of course it isn't my dish that's cooking, but I feel just like saying so much."
"General Castro will act decisively when the time comes, according to his idea," said Ronie.
In the midst of this uncertainty word reached them from La Guayra that the cables were to be cut, and that Minister Bowen had sent to Washington for warships.
Castro's next movement was to take charge of his troops at Guaicaipuro, and to establish his government there. Then followed the week's battle with the insurgents led by Mendoza at La Gloria, which was to prove the turning point in the war. Colonel Marchand's regiment of volunteers was there, and in the thickest of the fight our heroes had ample opportunity to prove the metal of which American soldiers are made. It was a bitter fight, the more trying as it was made with bush-fighters--scattered bodies of men who fought after the style of the North American Indians, from behind trees, or whatever cover was at hand. Fortunately, our friends escaped without a scratch, though Colonel Marchand received an ugly wound that was likely to drive him from the field for a time.