Before I could see any of the approaching foe, I heard great shouts
of anger and pain from them. It was easy for me to understand their
cries as they spoke Spanish and their cursings sounded loud through
the forest.

The blow-gun men, perceiving the Peruvians at the foot of the hill
only some twenty feet away, had prudently waited until at least half a
dozen were visible, before they fired a volley of poisoned arrows. The
three arrows fired in this first volley all hit their mark. Hardly
had they gone forth, when other arrows were dexterously inserted in
the tubes. The work of the blow-gun men was soon restricted to the
picking out of any stray enemy, their long, delicate, and cumbersome
blow-guns preventing them from taking an active part in the mêlée. Now
the conflict was at its height and it was a most remarkable one,
on account of its swiftness and fierceness. The bow-and-arrow men
charging with their sting-ray arrows poisoned with the wourahli took
the place of the cautiously retreating blow-gun men. At the same
instant the spear-men rushed down, dashing through the underbrush at
the foot of the hill, like breakers on a stormy night.

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.