p
them in their aim. The black apertures of the door-ways were poor
marks for night shooting, and the more enterprising and adventurous,
crawling like snakes to reconnoitre, were soon able to report that
most scientifically had the defence thrown up their breastworks. From
group to group flitted Pasqual. At his shrill battle-cry all hands
were to rush simultaneously to the attack, firing no shot for fear of
hitting one another; but with pistol in one hand and the long, deadly
knife in the other, close at once upon the defenders, leap over their
barriers and overwhelm them in the dark interior. In three minutes the
signal would be given. He himself would lead the dash of the party
within the corral. Pasqual was shrewd enough to know that where there
was only one door-way instead of two there would be better chance of
dodging the bullets. But keen eyes and ears and wits were there alert.
Feeny and Harvey well knew that this was but the lull before the
storm.

"Lay low, boys, and be ready. Shoot the first man that shows," was the
last caution old Plummer heard before the bursting of the tempest.

All on a sudden a wild cry went up in the corral. All on a sudden from
north and south the assailants dashed forward with answering yell. In
an instant the dark apertures flashed their lightning, and rifle and
revolver-shots rang on the still night air. Harvey's Henry barked like
a Gatling; Feeny's old Springfield banged like a six-pounder. Two of
the assailants on the south side went down in the dust, face foremost,
the others swerved, broke, and scurried for shelter. Pasqual Morales,
leading his men close under the north wall, made a panther-like spring
for the crest of the barley parapet, and was saved from instant death
when he fell by being dragged feet foremost, with a Colt's forty-four
tearing through his thigh. In vain Moreno's squad fired shot after
shot through the wooden door; their bullets buried themselves deep in
the improvised traverse but let no drop of blood, while two return
shots scattered the attack with the splinters from the heavy panels.
Pleading, raging, maddened, Morales learned that the dash had failed,
and that two of his most daring men, the two Americanos who had ridden
forward to personate prospectors and who had led the rush in the
southern front, were knocked out of the fight.

And then it was that the inhuman brute gave the order to resort to
Indian methods, and even old Moreno begged and prayed