But the men who for one year had fought and starved for
Walker, would not, within three miles of home, abandon him.
Melendrez then begged the commander of the United States troops
to order Walker to surrender. Major McKinstry, who was in
command of the United States Army Post at San Diego, refused.
For him to cross the line would be a violation of neutral territory.
On Mexican soil he would neither embarrass the ex-President of
Sonora nor aid him; but he saw to it that if the filibusters reached
American soil, no Mexican or Indian should follow them.
Accordingly, on the imaginary boundary he drew up his troop, and
like an impartial umpire awaited the result. Hidden behind rocks
and cactus, across the hot, glaring plain, the filibusters could see
the American flag, and the gay, fluttering guidons of the cavalry.
The sight gave them heart for one last desperate spurt. Melendrez
also appreciated that for the final attack the moment had come. As
he charged, Walker, apparently routed, fled, but concealed in the
rocks behind him he had stationed a rear-guard of a dozen men. As
Melendrez rode into this ambush the dozen riflemen emptied as
many saddles, and the Mexicans and Indians stampeded. A half
hour later, footsore and famished, the little band that had set forth
to found an empire of slaves, staggered across the line and
surrendered to the forces of the United States.
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