yonder."

"Yes, it means the attack," replied Poole coolly.

"Yes," cried Fitz. "Oughtn't we to begin, and not let them get all the
best places? There's nothing like getting first blow."

"Ha, ha!" laughed Poole, who did not seem in the slightest degree
impressed by the serious nature of their position. "You're not a
player, you know. This is our game."

Fitz reddened, and turned away with an impatient gesture, so that he did
not see the carpenter give Poole a peculiar wink and his leg a silent
slap, indicative of his enjoyment.

Every one's attention was fully taken up the next moment, for it was
evident from the movements on the enemy's part that they were being
divided into three bodies, each under a couple of leaders, who were
getting their ragged, half Indian-looking followers into something like
military form, prior to bringing them on to the attack in a rush.

Fitz watched all this from behind one of the breastworks he had seen put
up by the carpenter, who was going about testing the nailing of the
boards, and as he did so giving Don Ramon's followers a friendly nod
from time to time, as much as to say, Only seeing as it had got a good
hold, mate,--and then, once more forgetting Poole's reminder, the boy
said excitedly--

"Well, I don't think much of Don Villarayo's tactics. He's exposing his
men so that we might shoot half of them down before he got them up to
the astack."

"Oh, they're no soldiers, nor sailors neither," replied Poole. "It's a
sort of bounce. He thinks he's going to frighten us out of the place;
and we are not going to be frightened, eh, Chips?"

"_We_ are not, Mr Poole, sir; I'll answer for that. But I don't know
how Mr Ramon's chaps will handle their tools."

"I should say well," cried Fitz, still warming up with the excitement,
and speaking frankly and honestly. "They'll take the example of you old
men-of-war's men, and fight like fun."

"Thankye, sir," said the carpenter, brightening up. "Hear him, Mr
Poole? I call that handsome. That's your sort, sir! There's nothing
like having one of your officers to give you a good word of
encouragement before you start, and make the sawdust and shavings fly."

Just at that minute Don Ramon, who had been hurrying from side to side
encouraging his followers, uttered a warning shout which was echoed by
an order from the skipper to his men not to waste a single cartridge,
and to aim low.

"Bring 'em down, my lads," he said. "C