Our talk was cut short by the word being passed that we should creep on to the edge of the road, which we did very quiet and quickly, being divided into two bands, under the general and Mr. Oxenham, as before, that we might strike head and tail again.
By the time we were in our places I could not doubt that what the Cimaroon had said was right. The sounds from the town were hushed as the dawn brightened, and I could plainly hear such a clanging of bells as told me clearly there must be many more mules than I had ever heard together before.
Nearer and nearer they drew; and the louder waxed the deep-toned music, so sweet in our ears, the quieter were we. Not a sign was there to tell of our presence, save now and again the dull snap of a bow being bent, or the low sound of breath as the matches of our small-shot men were blown up, or a gentle rustle of the brakes as a young hand moved nervously.
Everything was at last drowned in the clash of the bells. Now they had quite passed Mr. Oxenham's party in the rear. Now the clank of arms was abreast of us. I saw Frank's whistle at his lips, once more its piercing note split the air, and we were all on our feet rushing down into the road, shouting, 'Drake! Drake!' like madmen.
As I leapt down into it I could see a sight that made my heart bound. Some three hundred mules, laden with little leather bags, and all tied tail to tail, stretched along the road. In front glittered the morions and corselets of some score of soldiers, and at different points in the line and in the far rear, where our men were already engaged, were more. In front of all rode two or three officers in splendid armour.
But there was no time to see more. In a moment I had discharged my pistol, and was hand to hand at it with the foot. Harry was by my side at like work, and I could see the Sergeant, sword in hand, making for one of the officers.
At our first onset they fell back, being quite unprepared and dismayed with our shot and arrows. Half of them carried their morions in their hands, and none had their matches ready. So we were left to stop the mules, which all lay down quietly as before, but it was only a short respite.
The balls and hail-shot were soon flying about our ears up the narrow road. Poor Captain Tetú rushed most valiantly upon them, sword in band, but was doubled up in the road before he came to his distance. For a while it was desperate work. In a confused mass we fought and struggled together, and the woods re-echoed with the explosions of the small shot and the frantic cries of 'Drake! Drake!' and 'Santiago! Santiago!'
I was hand to hand again with a soldier, who gave me stiff work, when I heard the plunging of a horse and the whistle of a blade behind me. I made sure my end had come, and turned to hear a thundering shout of 'Drake,' and see Sergeant Culverin dash by into the thick of the foot.
He seemed a new man. As he passed he slashed at my opponent and set me free. I could not even then but admire his splendid management of his frantic horse in the press. Hewing and slashing, he made straight for a mounted officer, who was fighting like a lion. Involuntarily I paused to watch and get my breath. Straight at him the Sergeant rode, and with a sudden check of the bit, made his stolen charger rear right up against the Spaniard, at his rein hand, so that he was wholly guarded from the officer's blade. Then as the horse descended the Sergeant's heavy 'schiavona' rang upon the Spaniard's morion. The officer reeled in his saddle, his sword dropped, and his horse turned and galloped madly out of the press towards the town.