“‘Put spurs to your horse, man!’ he yelled, in the greatest excitement; ‘we will swing the gate open for you.’

“I let the reins fall out of my hand and shook my head.  ’I am on my honour,’ I cried.

“‘To him!’ he shouted, with infinite disgust.

“‘He promises you your life.’

“’Our life is our own.  And do you, Santierra, advise us to surrender to that rastrero?’

“‘No!’ I shouted.  ’But he wants his wife and child, and he can cut you off from water.’

“’Then she would be the first to suffer.  You may tell him that.  Look here—­this is all nonsense:  we shall dash out and capture you.’

“‘You shall not catch me alive,’ I said, firmly.

“‘Imbecile!’

“‘For God’s sake,’ I continued, hastily, ‘do not open the gate.’  And I pointed at the multitude of Peneleo’s Indians who covered the shores of the lake.

“I had never seen so many of these savages together.  Their lances seemed as numerous as stalks of grass.  Their hoarse voices made a vast, inarticulate sound like the murmur of the sea.

“My friend Pajol was swearing to himself.  ‘Well, then—­go to the devil!’ he shouted, exasperated.  But as I swung round he repented, for I heard him say hurriedly, ‘Shoot the fool’s horse before he gets away.’

“He had good marksmen.  Two shots rang out, and in the very act of turning my horse staggered, fell and lay still as if struck by lightning.  I had my feet out of the stirrups and rolled clear of him; but I did not attempt to rise.  Neither dared they rush out to drag me in.

“The masses of Indians had begun to move upon the fort.  They rode up in squadrons, trailing their long chusos; then dismounted out of musket-shot, and, throwing off their fur mantles, advanced naked to the attack, stamping their feet and shouting in cadence.  A sheet of flame ran three times along the face of the fort without checking their steady march.  They crowded right up to the very stakes, flourishing their broad knives.  But this palisade was not fastened together with hide lashings in the usual way, but with long iron nails, which they could not cut.  Dismayed at the failure of their usual method of forcing an entrance, the heathen, who had marched so steadily against the musketry fire, broke and fled under the volleys of the besieged.

“Directly they had passed me on their advance I got up and rejoined Gaspar Ruiz on a low ridge which jutted out upon the plain.  The musketry of his own men had covered the attack, but now at a sign from him a trumpet sounded the ‘Cease fire.’  Together we looked in silence at the hopeless rout of the savages.

“‘It must be a siege, then,’ he muttered.  And I detected him wringing his hands stealthily.

“But what sort of siege could it be?  Without any need for me to repeat my friend Pajol’s message, he dared not cut the water off from the besieged.  They had plenty of meat.  And, indeed, if they had been short he would have been too anxious to send food into the stockade had he been able.  But, as a matter of fact, it was we on the plain who were beginning to feel the pinch of hunger.