The Gaucho chief--if we may so style him--presented
his musket and pulled the trigger. It missed fire!

"I'll try him with shot first," remarked Lawrence to Quashy, presenting
his double-barrelled gun.

At the distance of fifty yards or so the shot, when it entered the
savage leader, was well scattered, so that horse and man were peppered
all over. The latter dropped his lance and almost fell off, while the
former, getting on its hind-legs, executed a pirouette which brought its
tail to the rear and sent it charging wildly back upon its friends. The
second in command, receiving the other barrel, at even shorter range,
went through the same performance with greater impetuosity. At the same
moment the old musket was prevailed on to go off, and Quashy delivered
four pistol-shots in quick succession, with the result that several men
and horses were wounded, and the entire body of Indians turned and fled
in a state of frenzied surprise.

They soon pulled up, however, and held a momentary consultation out of
range. Then, being bold fellows, they charged again, but this time in
two bands, one of which attacked the place in rear.

As before, the band which attacked the front was vigorously repelled,
but in rear the defenders were less successful. How it was managed
Lawrence never found out, but he had barely succeeded in driving off the
foe in front, and was congratulating Quashy on his coolness, when he
found himself suddenly surrounded by yelling savages.

The Gaucho chief made a desperate fight towards his own hut, which he
gained and entered in safety. Lawrence and Quashy tried to follow, but
were too much pressed by numbers. Back to back they fought, and Quashy
used his sword with such agility and vigour that in a few seconds he
sent several Indians bleeding to the rear. Lawrence, despising the
weapons of civilised warfare, held his now empty gun in his left hand,
using it as a sort of shield, and brandished his favourite cudgel with
such effect that he quickly strewed the ground around him with
crown-cracked men. Unfortunately a stone struck him on the temple, and
he fell. Thus left unsupported, Quashy, after slicing the nose half off
a too ardent savage, was struck from behind, and also fell.

When our hero recovered consciousness, he found himself lying on the
ground, afflicted with a strange inability to move hand or foot, and
conscious, chiefly, of a splitting headache. Presently a voice beside
him