The rear-guard of the Peruvians now came into action, having had
a chance to view the situation. Several of them filed to the right
and managed to fire their large-calibre bullets into the backs of
our charging bow-and-arrow men, but, in their turn, they were picked
off by the blow-gun men, who kept firing their poisoned darts from a
safe distance. The fearful yells of our men, mingled with the cursing
of the Peruvians, and the sharp reports of their heavy rifles, so
plainly heard, proved that the centre of battle was not many yards
from the spot where I was standing.
The club-men now broke into action; they could not be kept back any
longer. The tension had already been too painful for these brave
fellows, and with fierce war-cries of "_Yob--Hee--Hee_" they launched
themselves into the fight, swinging their strong clubs above their
heads and crashing skulls from left to right. By this time the
Peruvians had lost many men, but the slaughter went on. The huge
black clubs of the Mangeromas fell again and again, with sickening
thuds, piercing the heads and brains of the enemy with the pointed
jaguar teeth.
Suddenly two Peruvians came into view not more than twelve feet from
where the Chief, Arara the big club-man, and I were standing.
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