The man appeared to be either asleep or stupefied, as he remained stock-still.

Perhaps he had mistaken it for the ricochet of a round shot.
"It's big shooting for them to hit the hill!" exclaimed a young officer.
The words had scarcely passed when a loud crash, like the bursting of a cannon, was heard under our feet; the ground opened like an earthquake, and, amidst the whistling of the fragments, the sand was dashed into our faces.
A cloud of dust hung for a moment above the spot.

The moon at this instant reappeared, and as the dust slowly settled away, the mutilated body of the soldier was seen upon the brow of the hill, at the distance of twenty paces from his post.
A low cheer reached us from Concepcion, the fort whence the shell had been projected.
Chagrined at the occurrence, and mortified that it had been caused by our imprudence, we were turning to leave the hill, when the "whish" of a rocket attracted our attention.
It rose from the chaparral, about a quarter of a mile in rear of the camp, and, before it had reached its culminating point, an answering signal shot up from the Puerto Nuevo.
At the same instant a horseman dashed out of the thicket, and headed his horse at the steep sand-hills.

After three or four desperate plunges, the fiery mustang gained the crest of the ridge upon which lay the remains of the dead soldier.
Here the rider, seeing our party, suddenly reined up and balanced for a moment in the stirrup, as if uncertain whether to advance or retreat.
We, on the other hand, taking him for some officer of our own, and wondering who it could be galloping about at such an hour, stood silent and waiting.
"By heavens, that's a Mexican!" muttered Twing, as the ranchero dress became apparent under a brighter beam of the moon.
Before anyone could reply, the strange horseman wheeled sharply to the left, and drawing a pistol, fired it into our midst.

Then spurring his wild horse, he galloped past us into a deep defile of the hills.
"You're a set of Yankee fools!" he shouted back, as he reached the bottom of the dell.
Half a dozen shots replied to the taunting speech; but the retreating object was beyond pistol range before our astonished party had recovered from their surprise at such an act of daring audacity.
In a few minutes we could see both horse and rider near the walls of the city--a speck on the white plain; and shortly after we heard the grating hinges of the Puerto Nuevo, as the huge gate swung open to receive him.
No one was hit by the shot of his pistol.