With their slings the Bolivian Indians can aim with great precision, for they learn the art when they are mere infants.
As no one showed above the ramparts, there was in this case no human target for the missiles, but use was made of larger stones, and these kept falling into the trenches in all directions, so that much mischief was done and many men were hurt.
A terrible rifle fire was now opened upon that part of the bush in which the cannibal savages were supposed to be in force, and from the howling and shrieking that immediately followed, it was evident that many bullets were finding their billets.
But soon even these sounds died away, and it was evident enough that the enemy had retired, no doubt with the intention of inventing some new form of attack. There was peace now for many hours, and Roland took advantage of this to order dinner to be got ready. No men, unless it be the Scotch, can fight well on empty stomachs.
The wounded were attended to and made as comfortable as possible, and after this there was apparently very little to do except to wait and watch.
Burly Bill brought out his consolatory meerschaum. But while he puffed away, he was not idle. He was thinking.
Now thinking was not very much in this honest fellow's line. Action was more his forte. But the present occasion demanded thought.
The afternoon was already far spent. The sentries--lynx-eyed Indians, rifles in hand--were watching the bush, and longing for a shot. Roland and Dick, with Bill and big Brawn, were seated in the shade of a green and spreading tree, and all had been silent for some considerable time.
"I say, young fellows!" said Bill at last, "this kind of lounging doesn't suit me. What say you to a council of war?"
"Well, you've been thinking, Bill?"