arm. When the
Montoneros saw the determined front we presented, they checked their
speed, but it was only for an instant.

"Do not fire until they get close to us," cried my father.

On came the banditti, their horses' hoofs clattering over the hard road,
while uttering loud and discordant yells, they waved their swords above
their heads. They made their intentions very manifest of cutting us to
pieces if they could; so we felt perfectly justified in trying to knock
them out of their saddles.

Many of our party gave themselves up for lost; and certainly the
appearance of the banditti was enough to make a stout heart
uncomfortable, to say the least of it. Their untrimmed moustaches and
long hair escaping from under their broad-brimmed hats, their fierce
countenances and dark flashing eyes, the many hues of their skins, and
their motley costume, gave them altogether a very savage look, which was
increased by the fiery bloodshot eyes of their horses, whose shaggy
manes and the fringe of their housing streamed in the wind, while their
riders shook their weapons, and shrieked out threats of destruction on
our heads.

"Steady, my men, and fire when I do," cried my father, levelling his
rifle; in which I, Jose, and the rest, followed his example. The
Montoneros had got within a dozen paces of us, when we gave the word.
We fired together, our friends behind handing us their still loaded
weapons. Two of the robbers rolled in the dust, and the horse of a
third was shot dead, and fell across the road, so as somewhat to impede
the progress of those behind. On they came, however, and were up to us
as we fired our second round, and received a discharge of their carbines
in return. Some of the shot took effect on our companions in the rear,
who, instead of reloading the firearms, threw them down and endeavoured
to escape. In an instant the banditti were upon us. My father's horse
was shot under him. I saw Jose knocked over; and then I recollect
nothing that happened for some minutes, except a confusion of sounds,
shouts, and shrieks and groans. When I returned to consciousness, my
first thought was for my father. He was not near me, but I saw Jose at
no great distance, leaning on his arm, as if unable to move, and looking
along the road the way we had come. I turned my eyes in the same
direction, towards which the tide of the fight had gone. A few of our
companions were still contending against a greatly superior num