Don Estevan, profiting by the panic, threw himself, at the head of his vaqueros, on the thunderstricken redskins, and cut them down indiscriminately. Twice he renewed the charge with the courage of a lion, and twice the Indians recoiled before him.
As long as the darkness lasted, the Apaches could not perceive the smallness of the force opposed to them, and the combat was greatly favourable to the palefaces, who, sheltered behind the barricades, kept up a deadly fire on the dense masses of the enemy.
But after about two hours of this obstinate resistance the sun rose, and lighted up the field of battle with the glorious splendour of his rays. The Indians hailed his appearance with clamorous shouts, and precipitated themselves with renewed fury on the intrenchments from which they had just been driven. Their shock was irresistible.
The whites, after an amount of resistance determined on beforehand, abandoned a position they could no longer hold. The Indians, at the top of their speed, rushed in pursuit. But at that moment a frightful explosion was heard, the ground burst under their feet, and the mangled wretches, hurled into the air, were cast in all directions.
The interior of the defences had been undermined, and the major had just issued the order to fire the train. The effects of the explosion were horrible. The panic-stricken redskins began to fly on all sides, and, yielding to the impulse of their terror, were deaf to the orders of their sachems, and refused to renew the fight.
For a moment the palefaces thought themselves saved. But the Tigercat, mounted on a magnificent jet black mustang, and unfolding to the breeze the sacred totem of the allied tribes, rushed to the front, braving in his single person the shots the Mexicans aimed at him, and cried in a terrible voice: "Cowards! As you will not conquer, see how a brave man can die!"
His voice conveyed the bitterest reproach to the ears of the redskins; the most cowardly were ashamed to abandon the chief who was thus generously sacrificing himself; they faced about, and returned to the assault with redoubled ardour.
The Tigercat seemed invulnerable. He made his horse bound into the thickest of the fight, parrying the blows aimed at him with the staff of the totem, which he held displayed above his head to encourage his men.
The Apaches, electrified by the audacity of their great chief, crowded around him, undismayed even in death, and shouted:
"The Tigercat! The Tigercat! Let us die for the great chief!"