short distance from the
council wigwam, for the express purpose of shooting the young Mexican
chief, whom Lafitte justly deemed the most formidable of his opponents.
The pirate himself, with a party of picked men, pressed forward to the
Miko's dwelling, surrounded it, and seized its two inmates. Tokeah,
usually so abstemious, had probably upon this festive occasion
overstepped the bounds of sobriety, and he fell unresisting into the
hands of his foe. So well arranged, indeed, and rapid had all the
movements been, that the first call to arms had hardly died away, when
the Miko and Rosa were in the power of the bucaniers. Lafitte then
formed his men into a small square, and retreated steadily but in double
quick time towards the shore. Not an Indian was to be seen. The little
phalanx was already in the neighbourhood of the creek, and at only a few
yards from the picket; another dozen paces and they would be in their
boats, which a very few strokes of the oar would send into the middle of
the stream, and out of bullet range. A pursuit by canoes, in which each
Indian would offer an easy mark, was not to be thought of. Such had been
the pirate's calculation, and his plans seemed likely to be crowned with
complete success. He was within a step of the shore, when suddenly there
was a movement in the bushes immediately opposite to him, and glimpses
were caught of the copper-coloured forms of the Indians, glowing redly
in the firelight.

"Steady!" cried the pirate to his men, who marched firmly and calmly
onwards, gazing in a sort of wonderment at the bushes, which waved to
and fro as if hundreds of anacondas had been winding their way through
them. The pirates joined the picket and opened their square.

Lafitte threw Rosa into the arms of a sailor, and then pushed the Miko
over the edge of the bank into the boat. The old man sank down like a
lifeless mass in the bottom of the skiff, and Lafitte again turned to
his men. The picket had already retired behind the ridge, where they
were sheltered from the enemy's fire; the square alone was stationary,
and seemed destined to observe the movements of the Indians, and to
cover the retreat. It was a small but desperate looking band of about
four-and-twenty-men, to the composition of which nearly every nation and
quarter of the globe, every colour and language, contributed its quota.
Thirst of blood gleamed in their eyes as they stood formed in column, in
deep silence, and with fixed