But the peons had scarce started, ere three shots were fired, and three men rolled in the dust. The newcomers, in this way, warned their friends to hold their ground, and that they were bringing help. The dismounted peons were not wounded, though greatly shaken by their fall, and unable to take part in the fight; their horses alone were hit, and that so cleverly, that they at once fell.
"Eh, eh!" the capataz said, as he galloped on; "these pícaros have a very sure hand. What do you think of it?"
"I say that there are still four of us; that is double the number of those waiting for us down there, and we are sufficient to master them."
"Don't be too sure, my good friend, Zaragate," the capataz said with a grin; "they are men made of iron, who must be killed twice over before they fall."
The Tigrero and his companions had heard shots and seen the peons bite the dust.
"There is Valentine," said the Frenchman.
"I believe so," Don Martial replied.
"Shall we charge?"
"Yes."
And digging in their spurs, they dashed at the peons.