At a given moment the Spaniards chosen for casting a log to bridge the chasm rushed forth, and luckily for them lodged its further end beyond the gulf. To keep a footing on that crazy log in the face of stones and arrows was no ordinary test of poise and daring. Unhappily, one man caught the rope and pulled the log after him. With yells of triumph the Indians fell upon the forlornly stranded group, when instantly an officer (who was Villagrá himself) flew out from the crowd of his fellows on the other side of the abyss and from its edge sprang into the air, clearing the space, and landing, seized the log and thrust it back, so that it was securely caught. Over it came pouring the Spanish soldiers. Now the mesa top was again the scene of awful struggle and carnage—a hand-to-hand, merciless fight with knives and clubs and arrows of the savages, against the sword blades and gunstocks of the trained Spaniards.[66] Neither side gave way though bleeding and trampled and stunned, they fell to rise, or fell to die. But after a time the Indians seem to have thought these were perhaps no mortal foes, and they retreated into their fortress-like houses. Having caught their breath, the besiegers at once began a fresh attack, house by house. Into the narrow _calles_ they dragged the cannon, and the adobe walls crumbled as the stone balls fell upon them. Soon fire ran from house to house and the pueblo was doomed. But not until noontime of January 24 did the Indians yield. Then their old men sued for mercy, and Zaldívar at once ordered his men to cease. In fact, the Indians were persuaded they had been defeated by supernatural power, and after the surrender “they inquired for that valiant rider with the grey beard who on a brisk white steed and accompanied by a handsome queen was helping the Spaniards.”[67] The Spaniards, themselves hardly less given to superstition, now believed that their patron, Santiago, assisted by the Virgin, must have hovered, unseen, above them and brought them victory. Thus ended the breathless, savage fight of a brave race for home and children, a fight accompanied by a heroism and a disregard of personal danger and injury such as few men have ever shown. Five hundred Indians lay dead, and not a living Spaniard but carried his scars of that fateful time to his death. According to Villagrá, the aged chieftain, Chumpo, who had counselled before the battle that the women and children should be removed from the Crag, was permitted to descend and settle in the plain. The pity of it! Treachery had met its master, but we can hardly wonder that bitter hatred was engendered between the races, for in addition to death and fire and desolation, Zaldívar carried away eight of the Ácoma girls to be educated by the nuns in Mexico. Was his idea that of hostages to peace, or did he delude himself with the plea of Christian “civilization”?[68] AS TOLD BY AN EYE WITNESS