k clotting gouts of blood were trickling. Her long
black hair was streaming in coarse braids, and her features were pinched
and sharpened, as if in the agony of death. She glanced wildly behind, and
gasped out, "_Escapa, Oreeyue, escapa, para mi soi, muerto ya_." Another
shot, and the miserable creature convulsively clasped her child, whose
small shrill cry I often fancy I hear to this hour, blending with its
mother's death-shriek, and, falling backwards, rolled over the brow of the
hill out of sight. The ball had pierced the heart of the parent through
the body of her offspring. By this time a party of Spanish soldiers had
surrounded the hut, one of whom kneeling before the low door, pointed his
musket into it. The Indian, who had seen his wife and child thus cruelly
shot down before his face, now fired his rifle, and the man fell dead.
"_Sigi mi Querida Bondia--maldito_." Then springing to his feet, and
stretching himself to his full height, with his arms extended towards
heaven, while a strong shiver shook him like an ague fit, he yelled forth
the last words he ever uttered, "_Venga la suerte, ya soi listo_," and
resumed his squatting position on the ground. Half-a-dozen musket balls
were now fired at random through the wattles, while the lieutenant, who
spoke Spanish well, sung out lustily, that we were English officers who
had been shipwrecked. "_Mentira_," growled the officer of the party,
"_Piratas son ustedes_." "Pirates leagued with Indian bravoes; fire the
hut, soldiers, and burn the scoundrels!" There was no time to be lost; Mr.
Splinter made a vigorous attempt to get out, in which I seconded him, with
all the strength that remained to me, but they beat us back again with the
buts of their muskets.

"Where are your commissions, your uniforms, if you be British officers?"
We had neither, and our fate appeared inevitable.

The doorway was filled with brushwood, fire was set to the hut, and we
heard the crackling of the palm thatch, while thick stifling wreaths of
white smoke burst in upon us through the roof.

"Lend a-hand, Tom, now or never, and kick up the dark man there," but he
sat still as a statue. We laid our shoulders to the end wall, and heaved
at it with all our might; when we were nearly at the last gasp it gave way,
and we rushed headlong into the middle of the party, followed by Sneezer
with his shaggy coat, that was full of clots of tar blazing like a torch.
He unceremoniously seized "_par le que