f his countrymen, the unbounded cruelty and excesses of their
ruthless oppressors. There was a pause when he finished speaking, which
was shortly broken by the report of a musket in the adjacent wood. Jago
started, and listened. A second and a third report followed.

"_Misericordia! Los Gachupinos!_" shouted the captain, springing upon a
fragment of rock, and rolling his eyes wildly around. "They are upon us!
Run, Mateo, Hippolito! See what they are, and whence they come. Run, I
say! Have you lead at your heels?"

The two Zambos set themselves in motion, but presently paused, and seemed
unwilling to proceed. Jago drew a small silver whistle from his girdle,
and blew it with all the power of his lungs.

"The saints be with us," he exclaimed, "and thou in particular, blessed St
Martin! If they come from the direction of Tesmelucos, then are we
peppered and salted. Holy Virgin of Guadalupe! A silver candlestick and
ten wax tapers, an inch thick, so soon as I can obtain them, if thou wilt
deliver us from this strait!"

He was interrupted in his ejaculations by the sound of a volley of small
arms from the wood, and the next instant a herd of half-naked Indians,
Metises and Zambos, with scarcely any clothing but sheepskins round their
bodies, and straw-hats upon their heads, rushed out from under the trees,
closely pursued by the dragoons of the regiment of Espana, who began to
gallop along the edge of the plateau, and surround the open space on all
sides. The arrieros, at the very first beginning of the firing, had placed
their mules and themselves in safety behind the rock, concealed in the
thicket of dwarf-oak and pines. Jago had spoken once or twice to them and
to the servants in a low and urgent tone, but his whisperings produced no
visible effect.

"_Por todos santos!_" cried he to his Indians, "to the right, children,
_Nombre de Dios!_ or you are all lost. _Jesus Maria!_ they do not hear!"

The unfortunate patriots, who had been surprised during their siesta, now
came running out of the wood in great numbers, with the remainder of the
squadron of dragoons at their heels. Upon finding themselves cut off from
the path down the barranca, they set up a frightful howl, and dispersed to
the right and left, vainly endeavouring to escape the troopers, who formed
line, and, with furious sabre-cuts, and loud shouts of "Viva el Rey!"
drove the fugitives before them like a flock of sheep.

Don Manuel, who remained beside his