Esteban's party would doubtless have made good their escape had it
not been for that other guerrillero returning from its raid; but,
as it happened, the two forces met in the sunken road. Nothing but
the darkness and the head-long approach of the fleeing men saved
them from immediate destruction, for the collision occurred
between banks too steep for a horse to climb, and with that
yelling pack too close behind to permit of retreat.
Instantly there began a blind battle in these desperately cramped
quarters. After the first moment or two friend and foe were
indistinguishable and the men of both parties began firing or
thrusting at whatever loomed nearest out of the gloom. The narrow
ravine quickly became a place of utter confusion, a volcano of
blasphemies, a press of jostling, plunging, struggling bodies.
Horses reared and bit at one another. Riders fought stirrup to
stirrup with clubbed rifles and machetes; saddles were emptied and
the terrified horses bolted. Some of them lunged up the banks,
only to tumble down again, their threshing limbs and sharp-shod
hoofs working more havoc than blows from old-time battle-hammers.
Meanwhile those of Cobo's men who had ridden out from the sugar-
mill naturally attributed this new uproar to a stand of their
enemies, and began to rake the road with rifle fire; then, in
obedience to the commands of their half-clad colonel, they
charged.
Pages:
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191