So I turned and rode
forward with the rest.
At the Jocote _rancho_ we succeeded in catching a mule, but he was given
to another of the company, whose animal showed worse signs than my own,
which, indeed, had borne me much better than I expected, and was not yet
seriously fatigued.
We came out upon the Transit road, passed over the Cordillera ridges,
and, just beyond the little river which crosses the road, two miles from
San Juan, turned aside into a forest-trail leading down the coast to
Costa Rica. Those of us who had been pressed thus far, after crossing
the Transit road, gave over all design of returning. The bonds which
drew us back were not strong, and the danger of return was considerable.
We had heard that the enemy was at Virgin Bay, and that their lancers
frequently passed backward and forward on the Transit road, and between
San Jorge and Virgin Bay. If we returned, we should be confined to the
path nearly all the way to Rivas by the impenetrable forest, and easily
taken, should we meet the enemy, or liable even, one or two only, to be
shot down from ambush by the hostile natives who lived on the route.
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