Hernando was out of bed at a bound. As he rushed out half-dressed, a horde of retreating Cañares swarmed into the square, some wounded, some naked, many unarmed, and all in panic, their savage clamor drowning the shouts of the Spanish officers struggling to form the companies. For a space it was a scene of madness. The Cañares, part terror-stricken by the suddenness of the attack, part infuriated by wounds and the sight of blood, whirled in the square like wild cattle, breaking the forming lines of the infantry, struck at by angry pikemen, fighting back, and howling. In a moment began a sputtering zip of arrows from outside, with here and there an answering shriek and plunge of some man hit, and the confusion rose to pandemonium. The sputtering increased; became a steady rain of missiles searching every yard of the place, their flight invisible in the twilight, making the vicious whir, or sharp, angry snap as they glanced on the pavement or from the walls, the more sinister. The Cañares broke for shelter in the halls of the palace of Viracocha, followed by the infantry and Candia’s men dragging their guns. Here the lines were hastily reformed. A few cavaliers were in the court, already mounted; but a few only, for Juan Pizarro had gone, three days before, with almost the entire strength of the horse in a fruitless pursuit of the Inca Manco, whose rescue had been reported by the battered Mendoza and his companion. Hernando had gotten into armor in some fashion, and was now in the saddle, adjusting his helmet while he bellowed commands. His handful of cavalry clattered after him into the hail-swept square. The infantry, not two hundred of them in all, closed in behind. No hesitancy here, but grim resolution to fight whatever odds they might find; an unreserved, deadly willingness to fight, though the legions of all heathendom were arrayed against them. For an hour the plaza roared, thundered, and trembled; was finally cleared. The warriors of the Inca had fought with courage almost superhuman, but had been met with steel, by the crushing weight of cavalry, by the fire and havoc of guns. They retreated to the streets, and the streets were swept by falconet and arquebus. They were driven to the suburbs—and the attack had failed.