Although Oñate cleverly escaped being murdered by the Indians in Acoma, another Spanish captain, Zaldivar (thahl-de´var), was less fortunate, a short time after. He and half his force imprudently ventured up on the rock; but instead of staying together, as Oñate's troops had done, they scattered to view the strange place. The Indians took advantage of this to pounce upon their unsuspecting guests, at a given signal, and began killing them. The Spaniards, clad in armor, defended themselves heroically; but many fell, and the last five were driven to the very edge of the rock and forced to jump down. But, strange to relate, only one of these men was killed. The others fell into a heap of fine sand, which the wind had piled up against the base of the great rock. These men were promptly rescued by their comrades, who, knowing this attempt would be followed by a general attack upon all the missions, hastened back to warn Oñate of his peril. After taking immediate measures to protect the priests, Oñate sent a force of seventy men, under Zaldivar's brother, to punish the people of Acoma. The Indians, warned of the Spaniards' coming, closely guarded their rocky staircases. When the second Zaldivar summoned them to surrender, they mocked him, bade their medicine men curse him, and flung showers of arrows and stones down upon him. The Spaniards, unable to reach their foes, were obliged to take refuge under the overhanging rock to escape the missiles hurled down upon them. All night long they heard the shrieks of the Indians. They were holding a monster war dance overhead, and fiercely illustrating the tortures they meant to make the Spaniards suffer the next day. This prospect, however, did not frighten Zaldivar's brave men, and while their foes shouted and danced, they made a clever plan to surprise the city. Early the next day, Zaldivar and part of his force pretended to storm the north side of the rock. But while they were thus engaging the attention of the Indians, twelve of their number slowly crawled up a neighboring pinnacle of rock, dragging a small cannon after them. No one noticed what they were doing, and it was only when the cannon was in place, and the first stone ball came crashing into the adobe houses, that the Indians perceived their danger. The rock upon which the Spaniards had planted their cannon was on a level with Acoma, separated from it by a chasm only a few feet wide but about three hundred feet deep. From this point the Spaniards shot ball after ball into the town. When night came on, they crept down again, cut several trees, dragged the trunks up to the top of their rock, and at dawn flung one of them across the abyss.