"How many of them are there?"
"Thirty horsemen, and ten or twelve baggage animals. They left Geisenfeld at dusk, and they have a young girl with them as a prisoner."
"How many are we?"
"About fifty musketeers, and seventy or eighty armed with pitchforks and axes."
"Good. No firing is allowed until they are within three paces."
At this moment Bertel's horse neighed, whose name was Lapp; he was small but strong and active.
"Who is there?" sounded from the road.
"Swedes!" cried Bertel boldly, just as he did at the Würzburg sally-port, and fired off a pistol in the direction of the voice, and saw by the flash a large band of peasants, who had encamped by the barricade. He then turned his horse, and, calling upon his companions to follow him, rode at full gallop on the road back to Landshut.
But the peasants had by the flash also seen the three horsemen, and now hurried to cut off their retreat. Bertel's horse easily distanced the pursuers, but Vitikka's fell over the stump of a tree, and Pekka's clumsy animal was hurt by the thrust of a pitchfork in his neck as he tried to get out of the marsh. Bertel saw his followers' danger, and would not leave them; he turned back and killed the nearest peasants, and caught Pekka's horse by the bridle and tried to pull him up, calling also to Vitikka to leave his horse and jump on the back of Lapp. This brave effort was successful, and the three were on their way to safety, when suddenly a whizzing noise was heard, and a lasso settled upon Bertel's shoulders, tightened, and jerked him from his saddle. Vitikka fell at the same moment, and Lapp, thus delivered from his heavy burden, galloped off, and Pekka followed with or without his will. Bertel and Vitikka were taken prisoners and bound with their hands behind their backs.
"Hang the dogs before the others arrive!" cried one.