"Now, men, mow them down like grass—fire!"
The entire side of the estate toward the road was illuminated by a sheet of flame as his followers obeyed the sharp command, and it was like mowing a swath through grass to see how the motley mob led by the "mountain lion" went down. The roar of rifles was followed by wild shouts and shrieks of pain, while those who had escaped the deadly fire beat a hasty retreat.
"Follow them up, men!" cried the don, but he had barely uttered the order before a bullet from a stray shot hit him, and staggering back, he fell into the arms of Jack Greenland, while he murmured:
"I am a dead man!"
It was a sad occurrence. The moment the Venezuelans found their leader had fallen, confusion and disorder reigned.
"Is he fatally hurt?" asked Ronie, anxiously, as Jack bent over him.
"I cannot tell yet, sergeant. The wound is bleeding profusely. Some of you help me get him where I can examine him more closely. Is there a surgeon about the place?"
No one seemed to know. But half a dozen lusty fellows lifted the wounded don and bore him into the house, while others stared after them in complete dismay.
"El Capitan is rallying," said Ronie. "It's too bad for us to be in this condition. He will sweep the place, now the don has fallen."
"Why not take the lead, Ronie?" asked Harrie. "Some one must, or we are all lost."