Again there was the jingle of spur and lance, the clatter of men's boots on rocky ground. Horses neighed, and many kicked, so that other sounds were almost drowned. Not those, however, from the depths of the forest. The crash of branches could still be heard, though dying away gradually.
"They are increasing their distance. Will you men take hours to dismount? Come, hasten, and let us get after them," shouted the eager commander of the Spaniards. "Now, all follow me, and we will take this Englishman, and kill those who have helped in his escape."
There was a babel of shouts. Men bellowed at one another as they swung themselves from their saddles. Then, showing considerable confusion in the darkness, the Spaniards managed to select a guard for their horses, while the greater number followed their commander towards the forest. When they had arrived at the edge, they halted to let stragglers come up with them, and then dived into the dense shadow of the trees, passing within a few feet of the spot where Roger and his friends lay. But the Spaniards never suspected their presence there. Their attention was wholly occupied by the shouts ahead, and by the noise of men forcing a way through the underwood. They plunged on recklessly, and soon became separated, shouting loudly to one another so as to keep in touch. The moment had come for action. The Aztecs, who were helpless against horsemen in the open, and, indeed, feared even a handful, could easily outstrip any Spaniard if he were dismounted, and they now prepared to carry out the bold attempt planned by Roger. They crept from the shadows till the stamping of the horses told that they were near at hand. Then Roger rose to his full height, and drew his sword from his belt.
"Charge!" he shouted. "Cut them down, and then collect again. Follow me!"
He ran forward towards the spot where the horses were stationed, and threw himself upon the Spaniards, a dozen of whom were gathered there. An arquebus flashed in his face, and the contents roared past his ear, but he never paused till he had come to close quarters.
"Throw down your arms and surrender!" he shouted. Then, seeing that the Spaniards meant to fight, he parried a blow aimed at him, and, raising his sword, struck the Spaniard over the head with such force that the man fell to the ground like a log. Then he engaged another, and was gradually driving him backward, when a dark figure leapt on the man from behind and dragged him to the earth. A moment later Tamba rose to his feet, dagger in hand, while the scuffling which had been going on all round suddenly ceased.
"That is the last, master," he said. "Listen to the men in the forest."
"Time to be moving away," said Roger, calmly. "Collect the men. Where is Teotlili?"
"Here," came the answer from close at hand. "I had to fight fiercely. I thought the man was dead, but he struggled for long, and held me. He is silent now. What are my lord's orders?"
"Listen to the Spaniards," said Roger. "They have heard the sound of the conflict, and are returning. We must be going. Collect here, and then cut the reins of the horses. Better still, give me a dagger, Tamba, and I will perform the task, for I am used to the animals. I will return in a few moments."