“If we withhold our fire, they will think we are all dead or so grievously wounded as not to be able to resist. You see, they don’t know anything about our roof. The fellow who got a view inside was placed in a position where he could not relate the result of his observations. Yes, they are forming in a body for a rush. Now wait, everybody, until I give the word!”
He darted under the boughs to the furthermost corner and at once reappeared with the gourd which, earlier in the afternoon, he had fashioned into a bomb.
“Who has a match?”
Harvey gave him some.
“Angry copper-colored faces showed at the opening.”
“Here, Hope-Jones, take my rifle! You can use it and your shot-gun as well, for I shall be busy with this thing. Harvey, don’t try to fire, but have your gun handy. When I give the word, pull away as fast as you can at the brush in the opening nearest the Indians, so that I may have room in which to throw.”
These directions were no sooner given than the band of Majeronas, yelling, sprang toward the stone fort. The four defenders bent down low, that they might not be seen. The Indians ran with great speed, brandishing bludgeons; they had cast their bows one side, evidently believing the victory won. Señor Cisneros let them come to within a stone’s throw, then he called:—
“Now let drive!” and Ferguson and Hope-Jones, jumping to the opening, discharged three shots simultaneously, and the repeating-rifle of the former was worked as it never had been worked before.
“Pull down the brush! Use both hands! Quick now!”