men
or more, bidding the rest run hard for the City of Pines, there to warn
those who were left in garrison that the hour of danger was upon
them, and, should I fall, to conjure Otomie my wife to make the best
resistance in her power, till, if it were possible, she could wring
from the Spaniards a promise of safety for herself, her child, and her
people. Meanwhile I would hold the pass so that time might be given to
shut the gates and man the walls. With the main body of those who were
left to me I sent back my son, though he prayed hard to be allowed to
stay with me. But, seeing nothing before me except death, I refused him.

Presently all were gone, and fearing a snare the Spaniards came slowly
and cautiously round the angle of the rock, and seeing so few men
mustered to meet them halted, for now they were certain that we had set
a trap for them, since they did not think it possible that such a little
band would venture to oppose their array. Here the ground lay so that
only a few of them could come against us at one time, nor could they
bring their heavy pieces to bear on us, and even their arquebusses
helped them but little. Also the roughness of the road forced them to
dismount from their horses, so that if they would attack at all, it
must be on foot. This in the end they chose to do. Many fell upon either
side, though I myself received no wound, but in the end they drove us
back. Inch by inch they drove us back, or rather those who were left
of us, at the point of their long lances, till at length they forced us
into the mouth of the pass, that is some five furlongs distant from what
was once the wall of the City of Pines.

To fight further was of no avail, here we must choose between death and
flight, and as may be guessed, for wives' and children's sake if not for
our own, we chose to fly. Across the plain we fled like deer, and after
us came the Spaniards and their allies like hounds. Happily the ground
was rough with stones so that their horses could not gallop freely, and
thus it happened that some of us, perhaps twenty, gained the gates in
safety. Of my army not more than five hundred in all lived to enter them
again, and perchance there were as many left within the city.

The heavy gates swung to, and scarcely were they barred with the massive
beams of oak, when the foremost of the Spaniards rode up to them. My bow
was still in my hand and there was one arrow left in my quiver. I set it
on the string, a