On the fourth day, the Mexican cavalry rode out as usual.
Anthony's forces had also received reinforcements, bringing their total strength to 2,500 men. They now had fifteen cannons as well.
The two sides had been locked in a fierce artillery duel since morning. The sudden increase in the Mexican guns' firepower caught Anthony off guard.
Watching the breastworks collapse in great swathes, Anthony made the same choice as any experienced cowboy on this continent would have.
The El Paso Legion blocked the gaps in the breastworks with their wagons, but the full-scale Mexican assault they expected never came.
Anthony dusted himself off and cursed. "Damn Mexicans, damn Native American bastards! Where did they get so many cannons? Have Austin send more tomorrow."
Just then, a battered cowboy galloped into camp.
Anthony immediately recognized him as Captain Jabbar, who was in charge of transporting supplies.
"What happened? Native Americans?"
"No, Mr. Anthony. Mexican cavalry. They cut off our retreat."
"How many of them!?" Anthony asked urgently.
"About a regiment." Captain Jabbar then passed out.
"Jabbar! Jabbar!" Anthony kept calling his name. It wasn't because the two of them were particularly close. The cavalry regiment's strength was simply a very vague concept at the time.
An American cavalry regiment might have consisted of 400 men, or it might have had 500. It usually had two squadrons, each with two companies of 100 to 125 men.
In Europe, however, a French cavalry regiment usually had four squadrons and 800 men. A Prussian regiment generally comprised five squadrons, while an Austrian regiment usually had seven or eight. Russian cavalry regiments had no fixed strength and included large numbers of Cossacks. A British cavalry regiment had 450 men.
Anthony could only rely on what he knew from fighting Native Americans: fifty pioneers could handle