The storm had reached such a pitch of fury, that the riders had the greatest difficulty in making progress, and were in constant danger of falling with their horses, which were plunging wildly in their fright at the tempest. The ground, soaked with rain, afforded no foothold for the poor brutes: they slipped and stumbled at every step, snorted violently, and threatened to break down.
"It is impossible to get farther," said the mayor domo, picking up his horse from a plunge which had nearly unseated him.
"But what is to be done?" asked Don Fernando, looking about him with great anxiety.
"I think we had better take shelter under this clump of trees for a while: the storm grows worse and worse. It is folly to pursue our journey while it lasts."
"Let us go, if we must," said Don Fernando resignedly.
Accordingly they turned towards a small copse on one side of the road, which seemed to offer some little shelter from the intensity of the storm.
They were only a few paces from it, when four men, their faces covered with black masks, rushed out of the wood, and dashed at the travellers, whom they attacked without uttering a word. The peones fell from their saddles, knocked over by two shots from the masked strangers, and rolled on the ground in convulsive agony, uttering the most piteous cries.
Don Fernando and Don Estevan, astonished at this sudden attack by men who could not be Indians,—for they were dressed like vaqueros, and their hands were white,—instantly dismounted, and, placing themselves behind their horses, awaited their assailants' onset with cocked rifles.
The latter, after making sure of the death of the peones, turned their horses' heads to attack the two Spaniards. Shots were again exchanged, and a terrible combat began,—a dreadful struggle of two men against four—in which no word was spoken, and which was intended to end in the death of those who had been so treacherously set upon. However, the combat was sustained with a semblance of equality which discouraged the assailants, of whom one had already fallen, cut down to the teeth; while a second was retreating, with his chest pierced through by the good blade of Don Fernando.
"Aha! my masters," exclaimed the latter; "have you had enough, or do you wish to make further acquaintance with my blade? Fools that you are! You should have set at least ten to assassinate us."