A WILD RIDE.
The pirates evidently had decided to make the fight at some little
distance from their huts and adobe houses, so they rushed forward,
shrieking their battle-cries, brandishing their weapons, shouting and
cursing to give themselves courage. The great voice of Barbados rolled
out above the din in a multitude of commands. The shrill voice of
Sanchez echoed him.
The _caballeros_ advanced in a perfect line, their shining blades held
ready, grim and silent now, their minds intent upon the bloody business
confronting them. Señor Zorro, they could see, was making his way down
the slope toward them as speedily as possible, shouting that he was
coming, still singing bits of his song between his shouts.
The pirates had a few firearms, but little ammunition for them. And
they were more used to fighting hand-to-hand with naked blades. Yet
they discharged their firearms first as the _caballeros_ advanced, and
took a bloody toll. The _caballeros_ had nothing but their blades, for
they had come from Don Diego Vega’s bachelor supper, and they had worn
no firearms to that affair.
There was a moment of silence pregnant with dire possibilities, the
lull before the storm――and then the two forces met with a crash! Blades
clanged together, men gasped and fought and fell.
The line of the _caballeros_ was broken almost immediately, and each
found himself the particular foe of three or more pirates. Yet they
fought like maniacs, silently at times, right merrily at times, feeling
that they were doomed, but determined to do what damage they could
before the battle went entirely against them.
And then there was a sudden tumult on the opposite side of the pirates’
camp, and into it and among the huts charged the crew of the trading
schooner, the captain at their head.
But the pirates were so great in numbers that they were disconcerted
only for an instant. From the huts and the adobe buildings poured men
Barbados had been general enough to hold in reserve. The crew of the
trading schooner was overwhelmed. The men of the sea fought valiantly,
but they died with their captain.
And now Señor Zorro had reached the bottom of the slope, and, blade in
hand, rushed to join his friends. His sword flashed as he entered the
fight and tried to turn the tide of battle. His shouts rang out above
the bedlam.
“Ha!” he cried. “At the scum, _caballeros_! They cannot stand against
proper men!”
“Ha!” roared the great voice of Sergeant Gonzales, as he fought off
two of the pirate crew with his long sword. “To me, Señor Zorro! We’ll
carve a pathway through the swine!”
But Señor Zorro did not hear him. He had seen that his old friend, Don
Audre Ruiz, was sorely pressed, and he fought his way quickly to Don
Audre’s side. His blade seemed to be half a score as it flashed in and
out and downed one of Don Audre’s opponents. Like a man possessed,
Señor Zorro pressed forward again, straight at the pirates in the
foreground.
“_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near――”
He sang it as he fought, stopping the song now and then for an instant
to grunt as he made an unusually hard thrust. The men before him broke
and fled, and Señor Zorro, with Don Audre at his side, seized the minor
advantage of the moment. The other _caballeros_ rallied and followed.
“The ghost!” one of the pirates shrieked. “It is the ghost from the
sea!”
“Ha!” Señor Zorro cried, and cut down another man. “Ha, scum! So you
fear ghosts? Have at you――”
“Pirates, eh?” Sergeant Gonzales was crying, puffing and blowing out
his great cheeks as he fought. “Stand, pirates, and fight like men! Is
this a fight or a test of speed, dolts and fools? Meal mush and goat’s
milk!”
“A ghost!” another man shrieked.
Barbados whirled around in time to see Sanchez, a look of terror in his
face, about to retreat. He took in the situation at a glance.
“It is no ghost, fiends of hell!” he shrieked at his men. “’Tis this
Señor Zorro somebody has saved from the sea! At him! Fetch him to me
alive! Does a ghost fight with a blade that runs red? Get the fiend!”
His words carried weight. The pirates gathered their courage and surged
forward again. The other men came running from the huts and the adobe
buildings, now that the crew of the trading schooner had been handled.
The _caballeros_ found their line broken once more, found that they
were being scattered.
Still side by side, Señor Zorro and Don Audre Ruiz fought as well as
they could. But here in the open they could not get their backs against
a wall. However, they did the next best thing――they stood back to back
and engaged a circle of foes.
The fight swirled around them. Señor Zorro’s face wore an expression of
anxiety now. He knew, fully as well as did Don Audre Ruiz, that this
wonderful show of courage and blade skill was availing the _caballeros_
nothing. Slowly but surely, the pirates were traveling the road to
triumph.
Señor Zorro was of gentle blood, and could have died as well as the
best of them, a song upon his lips and laughter in his eyes. But he
felt at this juncture that his life was not his own to throw away
recklessly. Did he die with his friends, the _señorita_ would have none
to give her aid.
He would have to live, to win free if the tide of battle was against
him, and then take his chance at being able to return and rescue his
lady. He glanced around quickly as he fought. More than half the
_caballeros_ had been wounded or slain. And still more pirates were
rushing forward, it appeared, with the intention of making an end of
things.
And now there came an added menace. Among the huts there was a
ramshackle corral, in which the pirates had put a number of blooded
horses stolen from _hacienda_ owners. And now some of the fighting
men crashed against the insecure fencing and demolished it, and the
animals, frightened at the din of battle, rushed through the broken
place and into the open.
The fighting men, the clashing of blades, the shouts and screams seemed
to infuriate the beasts. The smell of blood was in their nostrils.
The horses charged wildly through the throng, upsetting _caballeros_
and pirates alike. One noble stallion brushed aside the foes of Señor
Zorro and Don Audre Ruiz, but separated them also. Their enemies rushed
toward them again before they could get together――and they were no
longer back to back.
Their case was desperate now. Each was surrounded and overwhelmed.
Señor Zorro fought with what skill he could, keeping a wide circle with
his flashing blade. He heard the voice of Sergeant Gonzales roaring in
the distance. He heard, also, the thunderous voice of Barbados.
“Alive! Take them alive!” the pirate chief was screeching. “There will
be rich ransom! Ransom and torture! Take them alive, fiends!”
Sanchez echoed the command, and the pirates shrieked in answer that
they understood. And Señor Zorro and his friends understood also.
The pirates would have rare sport baiting _caballeros_ who were not
ransomed speedily enough to suit them. Revenge and profit would be
their lot.
The _caballeros_ wasted no breath in speech. They had heard, and well
they understood the meaning. They fought like maniacs, and maimed and
slew their men. But there was no chance of ultimate victory, for the
numbers against them were too great.
Here and there in the open space a chorus of fiendish shrieks told that
a captive had been taken, his sword whipped from his hand. Señor Zorro
suddenly found himself hard pressed, but fought free and made an effort
to reach the side of Don Audre Ruiz again. But that was no easy feat,
he discovered.
“Get that Señor Zorro!” Barbados was shouting. “A reward to the men who
fetch him to me alive! Ha! This time we’ll make a ghost of him indeed!”
Señor Zorro knew a touch of despair for a moment, but he fought it
off quickly. If he were captured, the Señorita Lolita would have no
protector, and would be at the mercy of these fiends and Captain Ramón.
Were it not better to escape, to make an effort to return later, than
to fight until death at the side of his friend?
“Audre!” he cried.
“_Sí?_”
“Can you win free?”
“The curs surround me!”
“One of us must win free!” Zorro cried. “There is the _señorita_ to be
considered!”
“Get away, Don Diego, my friend!” Audre Ruiz shouted. “Save yourself,
and the saints bless you――”
“I will return!” Señor Zorro shouted the promise. “Let the beasts take
you, Audre! Alive, you may be of some service! Dead――you are gone
forever!”
Señor Zorro did not listen for an answer. Two determined pirates were
before him. But they hesitated in their attack, because they were eager
to take him alive and so gain the reward that Barbados had promised.
And their hesitation gave Señor Zorro the opportunity he desired.
He hurled himself forward, stretched one man on the ground and put the
other in momentary flight. Others rushed at him from the side, and
for an instant, as he turned, he had a vision of Don Audre Ruiz being
disarmed. And then he whirled again, darted swiftly away, fighting to
clear a path.
Down toward him rushed the big stallion, still frightened because
of the din of battle. Señor Zorro swept another man from before him
and sprang at the horse. He went upon the animal’s back, lurched
sickeningly for an instant, and righted himself. His balance regained,
he kicked at the flanks of his mount. It was all that he could do. The
horse was without saddle or bridle, without even a halter.
The animal hesitated, and Señor Zorro kicked again with what strength
he could. And the horse, suddenly terrified, sprang forward like some
supernatural beast. The pirates went down before him and before Señor
Zorro’s blade.
Up the slope the big stallion started, almost running down Sergeant
Gonzales and the pirates who had already taken him prisoner. Past Fray
Felipe he sprang, and Señor Zorro saw the aged _fray’s_ hand raised in
blessing.
Like a wild animal the stallion dashed at a group of the victorious
pirates, who shrieked and scattered to either side. Señor Zorro rode
erect, his sword flashing, and he was laughing wildly, like a man on
the verge of hysterics.
“_Señores!_ Have you ever seen this one?” he screeched.
He leaned to one side as the plunging horse went forward, locked his
heels in the animal’s flanks. He grasped one of the pirates and lifted
him from the ground, whirled him around and sent him flying through
space.
He would have guided the animal back and made an effort to disconcert
his foes further, but the horse could not be guided. And so Señor Zorro
rode on up the slope and away from the pirates’ camp――rode his fiery,
unmanageable mount straight at the fringe of trees on the top of the
hill.
From the distance came Barbados, fiendish, cursing, because the man he
most wanted to capture had made an escape.
And Señor Zorro answered it, also from a distance, with a burst of song:
“_Atención!_ A _caballero’s_ near――”