Many a cry of agony told that the persons aimed at had been hit by the bullets.
It surprised the natives to find that they could not reach our friends, and it alarmed them to discover that they were getting the worst of the battle.
Accordingly they rapidly retreated.
Thirty shots had been fired at them, and not a sound save a puff of wind came from the rifles, but the bullets were patterned after torpedoes and burst upon contact.
Fearful execution followed as the flying fragments of the exploded bullets scattered and hit the various ones.
Although only thirty shots had been fired, as was said, at least fifty men were wounded.
“Dey am gwine,” said Pomp.
“Frightened, I’ll bet,” Barney added.
“Chase them, Mr. Reade,” shouted the Mexican.
“No; let them go,” Frank replied from the dome. “We must try to get out of the water and repair the planes.”