"Now you below there, this is my last word.

I'll count ten, and you'll either pass up those weapons or we'll pour our fire into you.

If your miserable lives are worth anything to you, the quicker you move the better.

Take aim, boys." There was a moment of deathly silence, except for my counting and the heavy breathing of the trapped prisoners.

One man uttered a curse, and the jam of figures at the foot of the ladder endeavored to work back out of range, yet, before I had spoken the word eight, guns were held aloft, and poked up within reach, and at this sign of surrender even the most desperate lost heart and joined the more cowardly.