The camping-ground was much better suited for concealment than defence.  It lay in a hollow in the hills, in shape like a horse-shoe, with a single opening, looking east, and was commanded in every direction by wooded heights.  Griscelli’s plan was to occupy the heights with skirmishers, who, hidden behind the trees and bushes, could shoot down the rebels with comparative security.  A force of infantry and cavalry would meanwhile take possession of the opening and cut off their retreat.  In this way, thought Griscelli, the patriots would either be slaughtered to a man, or compelled to surrender at discretion.

I could not deny (though I did not say so) that he had good grounds for this opinion.  The only hope for Mejia was that, alarmed by our disappearance, he had stationed outposts on the heights and a line of vedettes on the San Felipe road, and fortified the entrance to the quebrada.  In that case the attack might be repulsed, despite the superiority of the Spanish infantry and the disadvantages of Mejia’s position.  But the probabilities were against his having taken any of these precautions; the last thing he thought of was being attacked, and I could hardly doubt that he would be fatally entangled in the toils which were being laid for him.

While these thoughts were passing through my mind we were marching rapidly and silently toward our destination, lighted only by the stars.  The force consisted of two brigades, the second of which, commanded by General Estero, had gone on half an hour previously.  I was with the first and rode with Griscelli’s staff.  So far there had not been the slightest hitch, and the Spaniards promised themselves an easy victory.

It had been arranged that the first brigade should wait, about a mile from the entrance to the valley until Estero opened fire, and then advance and occupy the outlet.  Therefore, when we reached the point in question a halt was called, and we all listened eagerly for the preconcerted signal.

And then occurred one of those accidents which so often mar the best laid plans.  After we had waited a full hour, and just as day began to break, the rattle of musketry was heard on the heights, whereupon Griscelli, keenly alive to the fact that every moment of delay impaired his chances of success, ordered his men to fall in and march at the double.  But, unfortunately for the Spaniards, the shots we had heard were fired too soon.  The way through the woods was long and difficult, Estero’s men got out of hand; some of them, in their excitement, fired too soon, with the result that, when the first division appeared in the valley, the patriots, rudely awakened from their fancied security, were getting under arms, and Mejia saw at a glance into what a terrible predicament his overconfidence had led him.  He saw also (for though an indifferent general he was no fool) that the only way of saving his army from destruction, was to break out of the valley at all hazards, before the Spaniards enclosed him in a ring of fire.