Martin Conisby

A deafening roar, a belch of flame and smoke that passing, showed a sight I will not seek to describe; nor did I look twice, but fell to work with sponge and rammer, loading this death-dealing piece as quickly as I might, while louder than the awful wailing that came from that gory shambles rose a wild hubbub from their comrades,--shouts and cries telling their sudden panic and consternation. But as they stood thus in huddled amaze, Sir Richard opened on them with his muskets, firing in rapid succession and with aim so deadly that they forthwith turned and ran for it, nor did they check or turn until they were out of range. Then back limped Sir Richard, his cheek flushed, his eyes bright and fierce in the shade of his helmet, his voice loud and vibrant with the joy of battle, and seeing how far the gun was recoiled, summoned divers of the Indians to urge it back into position; while this was doing, down upon this awful stair leapt Atlamatzin and his fellows and had soon made an end of such wounded as lay there.

"I pray God," cried Sir Richard, harsh-voiced, as he struck flint and steel to relight his match, "I pray God this may suffice them!"

And beholding the wild disorder of our assailants, I had great hopes this was so indeed, but as I watched, they reformed their ranks and advanced again, but with their Indians in the van, who suddenly found themselves with death before them and behind, for the Spanish musketeers had turned their pieces against them to force them on to the attacks. So, having no choice, these poor wretches came on again, leaping and screaming their battle cries until the stair was a-throng with them; on and up they rushed until Death met them in roaring flame and smoke. But now all about us was the hum of bullets, most of which whined harmlessly overhead, though some few smote the wall behind us. But small chance had I to heed such, being hard-set to prime and load as, time after time, these poor Indians, driven on by their cruel masters, rushed, and time after time were swept away; and thus we fought the gun until the sweat ran from me and I panted and cursed my stifling armour, stripping it from me piece by piece as occasion offered. And thus I took a scathe from bullet or splinter of stone, yet heeded not until I sank down sick and spent and roused to find Pluto licking my face and thereafter to see Sir Richard kneeling over me, his goodly armour dinted and scarred by more than one chance bullet.