With the Spanish Lanceros, or Fifties as they were called by the Buccaneers, the hunters were perpetually at war, their intrepid infantry being generally successful against the hot charges of these yeomanry of the savannahs. There were four companies of them in Hispaniola, with a hundred spearmen in each company; half of these were generally on the patrol, while the remainder rested, and from their number they derived their nickname. Their duty was to surprise the isolated hunters, to burn the stores of hides, make prisoners of the _engagés_, and guard the Spanish settlers against any sudden attack. At other times they were employed in killing off the herds of wild cattle that furnished the Buccaneers with food, and drew fresh bands to the plains where they abounded. In great enterprises the whole corps cried "boot and saddle," and they took with them at all times a few muleteers on foot, either to carry their baggage, or to serve as scouts in the woods, where the cow-killers built their huts. But, in spite of Negro foragers and Indian spies, the keener-eyed Buccaneers generally escaped, or, if met with, broke like raging wolves through their adversaries' toils. Accustomed to the bush, inured to famine and fatigue, and more indifferent than even the Spaniards to climate, the Buccaneers were seldom taken prisoners. Unerring marksmen, with a spice of the wild beast in their blood, they preferred death to flight or capture. It is probable that even for this toilsome and dangerous pursuit the Spaniards easily obtained recruits. Constant sport with the wild cattle, abundant food, and a spirit of adventure would prove an irresistible bait to the bravos of Carthagena, or the matadors of Campeachy. The hangers-on of the wineshops and the pulque drinkers of Mexico would readily embark in any campaign that would bring them a few pistoles, and give them good food and gay clothing. Oexmelin relates several instances of the daring escapes of the Buccaneer hunters from the blood-thirsting pursuit of the Fifties. It was their custom, directly that news reached the tents that the Lanceros were out, to issue an order that the first man who caught sight of the horsemen should inform the rest, in order to attack the foe by an ambuscade, if they were too numerous to meet in the open field. The great aim, on the other hand, of the Lanceros, was to wait for a night of rain and wind, when the sound of their hoofs could not be heard, and to butcher the sleepers when their fire-arms were either damp or piled out of reach. Frequently they surrounded the hunters when heavy after a debauch, and when even the sentinels were asleep at the tent doors.