Get a Load of This полностью

     Another four paces. His hands began to draw in the slack on the firing lever, then the Lewis gun suddenly began firing. The noise was very violent in the still, silent room. Four of the horsemen fell from their saddles like badly stuffed dolls. The rest of the patrol was thrown into utter confusion. Horses reared. Men struggled to draw their revolvers and control the horses at the same time. The dust in the road swept up under the plunging feet and Holtz could hear the sharp crack of his men's rifles as they began to fire also. He hastily shifted the gun a little and kept firing. Three horses went down in a screaming, kicking heap. The riders were thrown under the hoofs of the other horses and were kicked and trampled to pulp. Holtz drew his lips off his teeth and concentrated the murderous fire on the remaining eight men. These had recovered from their surprise and had thrown themselves off their horses and down on to the road.

     As Holtz swept the gun-sights over them the Lewis gun suddenly stopped firing. A misplaced cartridge had jammed the feed. Feverishly, Holtz tugged and jerked, his fingers slippery with sweat. The cartridge was jammed tight. Jerking his revolver from his holster, he hammered at it with the butt and managed to clear it. All the time he was working he could hear the sounds of rifle-fire, and prayed that his men had achieved what he had failed to do. As soon as he had cleared the feed, he swung the gun up into position again. There were only five horses and seven men lying in the road, the others had disappeared. He stood up and yelled through the window to Castra. After a moment, Castra slid from cover and wormed his way across to the farmhouse. From the opposite side of the road, under cover of the thick desert shrubs, two rifle-shots rang out. Holtz saw little puffs of dust spurt up close to Castra, who sprang to his feet and darted into the farmhouse. Holtz swung the Lewis gun and fired a short burst at where the shots had come from. He could see the shrubs shudder under the hail of bullets, but there was no sound to tell him that he had hit anyone. There was now complete silence over the farmhouse and the road. They had all gone to ground and were waiting for each other to show themselves.

     Castra came up the stairs and into the room. He saluted stiffly. “It was the horses,” he said; “eight of the patrol are over there in the thicket. We tried to shoot them down, but the horses got in our way. What shall we do now, Lieutenant?”

     Holtz got up from the gun. “Take this over.”

     Castra sat down behind the gun, looking at Holtz enquiringly.

     “Where are the rest of our men?” Holtz asked aloud.

     “Dedos is behind the barrel over there. Golz and Fernando are together behind that wagon. They have all a good view of the road, Lieutenant.”

     Holtz wiped the sweat from his face with a soiled handkerchief. He was worried. “They had better all come in,” he said. “We are too small to be scattered. Pablo's army may be here at any moment.”

     Castra shrugged. “It would be dangerous to move them now,” he pointed out. “There is no cover for them to get to the house, Lieutenant. They may all be hit.”

     Holtz knew that he was right. He cursed the Lewis gun savagely. “If that goddamned thing hadn't jammed, we should have wiped out the whole patrol. As it is, we are in a difficult situation.”

     Castra nodded. The expression on his face was very resigned. He was so used to Cortez' misfortunes that this new difficulty had not surprised him.

     A sudden volley came from the thicket and Holtz could hear the bullets smack against the walls of the house.

     “They have automatic rifles,” he said, staring at Castra, who nodded again. “Blast them out of the thicket,” he went on. “It is the only way.”

     Castra turned the sights of the gun on the thick shrubs on the opposite side of the road and swept it with a hail of lead. The noise of the gun set Holtz's teeth on edge. Again the silence that followed did not indicate that anyone had been hit. Holtz stood undecided, staring out of the small loophole that had been made. He thought he saw a slight movement over to the right and, drawing his revolver, he sighted carefully and squeezed the trigger. Above the sharp crack of the gun a sudden wail came to them, and a man staggered up from the long grass, took two tottering steps forward and fell on his face.

     Castra glanced at Holtz. There was a look of surprise and admiration on his face. “That was good, Lieutenant,” he said. “That was very good.”

     “Seven more, unless they have withdrawn to get help.”

     “I think not. The horses ran away from them. It is too hot to walk far. No, I think they all remain.”

     A round, black object suddenly sailed up in the air. Holtz couldn't be sure just where it came from. He watched it make a slow and graceful parabola and he shouted, “Look out, down there, look out.”