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I —dw'I


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL
OR
THE WAR ADVENTURES OF
TWO CHUMS
BY
CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL
AUTHOR OF "A SAILOR BOY WITH DEWEY," "OFF FOR HAWAII,7
"GUN AND SLED," " LEO, THE CIRCUS BOY,"
"RIVAL BICYCLISTS," ETC,
CHICAGO
GEO. M. HILL CO.
PUBLISHERS




COPYRIGHT, 1899,
BY
THE MERSHON COMPANY.
All rights reserved. '
I   v




GIFT OF
PROF. V. H. LANE
PREFACE.
"When Santiago Fell," while a complete
story in itself, forms the first volume of a line to
be issued under the general title of the " Flag of
Freedom Series" for boys.
My object in writing this story was to present
to American lads a true picture of life in the
Cuba of to-day, and to show what a fierce struggle was waged by the Cubans against the ironhanded mastery of Spain previous to the time
that our own glorious United States stepped in
and gave to Cuba the precious boon of liberty.
$1      The time covered is the last year of the CubanSpanish War and our own campaign leading up
to the fall of Santiago.
It may be possible that some readers may
think the adventures of the two chums overdrawn, but this is hardly a fact. The past few
years have been exceedingly bitter ones to all
living upon Cuban soil, and neither life nor
property has been safe. Even people who were
peaceably inclined were drawn into the struggle
lil




iv               PREFACE.
against their will, and the innocent, in many
cases, suffered with the guilty.
This war, so barbarously carried on, has now
come to an end;. and, under the guiding hand of
Uncle Sam,, let us trust that Cuba and her people
will speedily take their rightful place among the
small but well-beloved nations of the world-or,
if not this, that she may join the ever-increasing
sisterhood of our own States.
Once more thanking my numerous young
friends for their kind reception of my previous
works, I place this volume in their hands, trusting that from it they may derive much pleasure
and profit.
CAPTAIN RALPH BONEHILL.
January;, 1899.




CONTENTS.


CHAPTER
I. OFF FOR THE INTERIOR 
II. THE ESCAPE FROM THE GUNBOAT 
III. IN THE WILDS OF THE ISLAND
IV. IN A NOVEL PRISON
V. LOST AMONG THE HILLS
VI. FROM ONE DIFFICULTY TO ANOTHER
VII. FOOLING THE SPANISH GUERRILLAS
VIII. ANDRES
IX. ACROSS THE CANEFIELDS
X. A COUNCIL OF THE ENEMY
XI. A WILD RIDE ON HORSEBACK
XII. A DARING LEAP 
XIII. FRIENDS IN NEED..
XIV. GENERAL CALIXTO GARCIA
XV. A PRISONER OF WAR
XVI A RESCUE UNDER DIFFICULTIES
XVII. A TREACHEROUS STREAM TO CROSS
XVIII. ALONE
XIX. THE CAVE IN THE MOUNTAIN
XX. SEROR GUEREZ 
XXI. THE ATTACK ON THE OLD CONVENT
XXII. THE ROUTING OF THE ENEMY
XXIII. ON THE TRAIL OF MY FATHER
XXIV. IN THE BELT OF THE FIREBRANDS
V


PAGE
I
8
15
22.   30
*   37
45.    52
59.66
74.     8I
87
95. 102
I. o8.   I6. 123. 130. 137
*  45.  54. I6I..   1xI68




vi                 CONTENTS.
CHAPTER                                       PAGE
XXV. ESCAPING THE FLAMES..         176
XXVI. A DISHEARTENING DISCOVERY.     184
XXVII. GILBERT BURNHAM.. 191
XXVIII. A BATTLE ON LAND AND WATER.       98
XXIX. LOOKING FOR MY CUBAN CHUM.. 205
XXX. ONCE MORE AMONG THE HILLS.     212
XXXI. THE BATTLE AT THE RAILROAD EMBANKMENT.......220
XXXII. A LEAP IN THE DARK.. 229
XXXIII. CAPTAIN GUEREZ MAKES A DISCOVERY. 238
XXXIV. THE DOGS OF CUBAN WARFARE..244
XXXV. THE LAST OF THE BLOODHOUNDS.. 252
XXXVI. CAST INTO A SANTIAGO DUNGEON..26I
XXXVII. THE FALL OF THE SPANISH STRONGHOLD. 271




WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
CHAPTER I.
OFF FOR THE INTERIOR.
"We cannot allow you to leave this city."
It was a Spanish military officer of high rank
who spoke, and he addressed Alano Guerez and
myself. I did not understand his words, but
my companion did, and he quickly translated
them for my benefit.
"Then what are we to do, Alano? " I questioned. " We have no place to stop at in Santiago, and our money is running low."
Alano's brow contracted into a perplexing
frown. He spoke to the officer, and received a
few curt words in reply. Then the Spaniard
turned to others standing near, and we felt that
we were dismissed. A guard conducted us to
the door, and saluted us; and we walked away
from the headquarters.
The reason for it all was this: Less than a
month before we had left the Broxville Military
Academy in upper New York State to join




2


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


Alano's parents and my father in Cuba. Alano's
father was a Cuban, and owned a large sugar
plantation some distance to the eastward of
Guantanamo Bay. He was wealthy, and had
sent Alano to America to be educated, as many
rich Cubans do. As my father and Sefnor Guerez were well acquainted and had strong business connections, it was but natural that Alano
should be placed at the boarding school which
I attended, and that we should become firm
friends. For a long time we played together,
ate together, studied together, and slept together, until at last as chums we became almost
inseparable.
Some months back, and while the great
struggle for liberty was going on between the
Cubans and their rulers in Spain, certain business difficulties had taken my father to Cuba.
During his stop in the island he made his home
for the greater part with Sefior Guerez, and
while there was unfortunate enough during a
trip on horseback to fall and break his leg.
This accident placed him on his back longer
than was first expected, for the break was a bad
one. In the meantime the war went on, and the
territory for many miles around Santiago de
Cuba was in a state of wild excitement.
Not knowing exactly what was going on,
Alano wrote to his parents begging that he be




OFF FOR THE INTERIOR.


3


allowed to come to them, and in the same mail
I sent a communication to my father, asking if
I could not accompany my Cuban chum!. To
our delight the answer came that if we wished
we might come without delay. At the time
this Word was sent neither Sefnor Guerez nor my
father had any idea that the war would assume
such vast proportions around Santiago, involving the loss of many lives and the destruction of
millions of dollars of property.
" Alano and I were not long in making our
preparations. We left Broxville two, days after
permission was received, took the cars to the
metropolis, and engaged immediate passage
upon the Esmeralda for Santiago de Cuba.
We had heard of the war a hundred times on
the way, but even on entering the harbor of the
city we had no thought of difficulty in connection with our journey on rail and horseback outside of the city. We therefore suffered a rude
awakening when the custom-house officials,
assisted by the Spanish military officers, made
us stand up in a long row with other passengers, while we were thoroughly searched from
head to foot. Each of us had provided himself
with a pistol; and these, along with the cartridges, were taken from us. Our baggage,
also, was examined in detail, and everything in
the way of a weapon was confiscated.




4


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"War means something, evidently," was the
remark I made, but how much it meant I did
not learn until later. Our names were taken
down, and we were told to remain in the city
over night and report at certain headquarters in
the morning. We were closely questioned as
to where we had come from; and when I injudiciously mentioned the Broxville Military
Academy, our questioner, a swarthy Spanish
lieutenant, glared ominously at us.
" I'm afraid you put your foot into it when
you said that," was Alano's comment at the
hotel that evening, when we were discussing our
strange situation. " They are o'n the watch for
people who want to join the insurgents."
" Perhaps your father has become a rebel," I
ventured.
" It is not unlikely. He has spoken to me of
Cuban independence many times."
As might be expected, we passed an almost
sleepless night, so anxious were we to learn
what action the Spanish authorities would take
in our case. When the decision came, as noted
at the opening of this story, I was almost dumbfounded.
"We're in a pickle, Alano," I said, as we
walked slowly down the street, lined upon either
side with quaint shops and houses. " We can't
stay here without money, and we can't get out."




OFF FOR THE INTERIOR.


5


" We must get out! " he exclaimed in a low
tone, so as not to be overheard. " Do you suppose I am going to remain here, when my father
and mother are in the heart of the war district,
and, perhaps, in great danger?"
" I am with you!" I cried. " For my father
is there too. But how can we manage it? I
heard at the hotel last night that every road
leading out of the city is well guarded."
" We'll find a way," he rejoined confidently.
"But we'll have to leave the bulk of our baggage behind. The most we can carry will be a
small valise each. And we must try to get hold
of some kind of weapons, too."
We returned to our hotel, and during the day
Alano struck up an acquaintanceship with a
Cuban-American who knew his father well.
Alano, finding he could trust the gentleman,
took him into his confidence, and, as a result, we
obtained not only a good pistol each,-weapons
we immediately secreted in our clothing,-but
also received full details of how to leave Santiago de Cuba by crossing the bay in a rowboat and taking to the woods and mountains
beyond.
" It will be rough traveling," said the gentlemen who gave us the directions, " but you'll find
your lives much safer than if you tried one of
the regular roads-that is, of course, after you




6


WHEN SANTIA GO FELL.


have passed the forts and the gunboats lying in
the harbor."
Both Alano and I were much taken with this
plan, and it was arranged we should leave the
city on the first dark night. Two days later it
began to rain just at sunset, and we felt our time
had come. A small rowboat had already. been
procured and was secreted under an old warehouse. At ten o'clock it was still raining and
the sky was as black as ink, and we set out,-I
at the oars, and Alano in the bow,-keeping the
sharpest of lookouts.
We had agreed that not a word should be
spoken unless it was necessary, and we moved
on in silence. I had spent many hours on the
lake facing Broxville Academy, and these now
stood me in good stead. Dropping my oars
without a sound, I pulled a long, steady stroke
in the direction I had previously studied out.
We were about halfway across the bay when
suddenly Alano turned to me. "Back!" he
whispered, and I reversed my stroke as quickly
as possible.
" There is a gunboat or something ahead," he
went on. " Steer to the left. See the lights? "
r looked, and through the mists made out several signals dimly. I brought the boat around,
and we went on our way, only to bring up, a
few seconds later, against a huge iron chain,




OFF FOR THE INTERIOR.          7
attached to one of the war vessels' anchors, for
the vessel had dragged a bit on the tide.
The shock threw Alano off his feet, and he
tumbled against me, sending us both sprawling.
I lost hold of one of the oars, and at the same
moment an alarm rang out-a sound which
filled us both with fear.




CHAPTER II.


THE ESCAPE FROM THE GUNBOAT.
"We are lost! " cried Alano, as he sought to
pick himself up. "Oh, Mark, what shall we
do?"
" The oar-where is that oar?" I returned,
throwing him from me and trying to pierce the
darkness.
"I don't know. I      Oh!"
Alano let out the exclamation as a broad sheet
of light swept across the rain and the waters beneath us-light coming from a search-lantern
in the turret olf the gunboat. Fortunately the
rays were not lowered sufficiently to reach us,
yet the light was strong enough to enable me
to see the missing oar, which floated but a few
feet away. I caught it with the end of the other
oar, and then began pulling at the top of my
speed.
But all of this took time, and now the alarm
on board of the war vessel had reached its
height. A shot rang out, a bell tolled, and several officers came rushing to the anchor chains.
They began shouting in Spanish, so volubly I
8




THE ESCAPE FROM THE GUNBOA T.


9


could not understand a word; and now was no
time to question Alano, who was doing his best
to get out a second pair of oars which we had,
fortunately, placed on board at the last moment.
He had often rowed with me on the lake at
Broxville; and in a few seconds he had caught
the stroke, and away we went at a spinning
speed.
" They are going to fire on us!" he panted,
as the shouting behind increased. "Shall we
give up? "
"Not on my account."
"Nor on mine. If we give up, they'll put us
in prison, sure. Pull on! "
And pull we did, until, in spite of the cold rain,
each of us was dripping with perspiration and
ready to drop with exhaustion.
Boom! a cannon shot rang out, and involuntarily both of us ducked our heads. But the
shot flew wide of its mark-so wide, in fact, that
we knew not where it went.
"They'll get out a boat next!" I said.
"Pull, Alano; put every ounce of muscle into
the stroke."
"I -am doing that already," he gasped.. " We
must be getting near the shore. What about
the guard there?"
"We'll have to trust to luck," I answered.
Another shot came booming over the misty




I0


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


waters, and this time we heard the sizz of th'e
cannon ball as it hit the waves and sank. We
were now in the glare of the searchlight, but the
mist and rain were in our favor.
"There is the shore!" I cried, on looking
around a few seconds later. "Now be prepared
to run for it as soon as the boat beaches!"
With a rush our craft shot in between a lot of
sea grass and stuck her bow into the soft mud.
Dropping our oars, we sprang to, the bow and
took long leaps to solid ground.  We had
hardly righted ourselves when there came a call
out of the darkness.
"Quien vaY " And thus challenging us, a
Spanish soldier who was on guard along the
water's edge rushed up to intercept our progress. His bayonet was within a foot of my
breast, when Alano jumped under and hurled
him to the ground.
"Come!" he cried to me. "Come, ere it is
too late!" and away we went, doing the best
sprinting we had ever done in our lives. Over
a marsh and through a thorny field we dashed,
and then struck a narrow path leading directly
into a woods. The guard yelled after us and
fired his gun, but that was the last we saw or
heard of him.
Fearful, however, of pursuit, we did not
slacken our pace until compelled to; and then,




THE ESCAPE FROM THE GUNBOAT.


II


coming to a thick clump of grass at the foot of
a half-decayed banana tree, we sank down completely out of breath. I had never taken such
fearful chances on my life before, and I trusted
I would never have to do so. again, little dreaming of all the perils which still lay before us.
" I believe we are safe for the present," said
Alano, when he could get his breath. "I wonder where we are?"
" We're in a very dark, dirty, and wet woods,"
I returned gloomily. "Have we got to remain
here all night?"
" It's better than being in a Spanish prison,"
replied my Cuban chum simply. "We can go
on after we are a bit rested."
The rain was coming down upon the broad
leaves of the banana tree at a lively rate, but
Alano said he thought it must be a clearing
shower, and so it soon proved to be. But
scarcely had the drops ceased to fall than a host
of mosquitoes and other insects arose, keeping
us more than busy.
" We must get out of this!" I exclaimed,
when I could stand the tiny pests no longer.
"t I'm being literally chewed up alive. And,
see, there is a lizard! " And I shook the thing
from my arm.
" Oh, you mustn't mind such things in
Cuba!" said Alano, laughing shortly. "Why,




12         WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
we have worse things than that —snakes and alligators, and the like. But 'come on, if you are
rested. It may be we'll soon strike some sort of
shelter."
Luckily, through all the excitement we had
retained our valises, which were slung across our
backs by straps thrown over the shoulder.
From my own I now extracted a large handkerchief, and this served, when placed in my bro-adbrimmed hat, to protect my neck and ears from
the insects. As for Alano, he was acclimated
and did not seem to, be bothered at all.
We pursued our way through the woods, and
then ascended a steep bank of clay, at the top
of which was a well-made road leading to the
northward. We looked up and down, but not
a habitation or building of any kind was in sight.
" It leads somewhere," said Alano, after a
pause. " Let us go on, but with care, for perhaps the Spanish Government has guards even
as far out as this."
On we went once more, picking our way
around the numerous pools and bog-holes in
the road. The stars were now coming out, and
we could consequently see much better than
before.
"A light!" I cried, when quarter of a mile
had been traversed. " See, Alano.."
" It must be from a plantation," he answered.




THE ESCAPE FROM THE GUNBOAT.


13


"If it is, the chances are that the owner is
a Spanish sympathizer-he wouldn't dare to be
anything else, so close to the city."
"But he might aid us in secret," I suggested.
Alano shrugged his shoulders, and we proceeded more slowly. Then he caught my arm.
"There is a sugar-house back of that canefield," he said. "We may find shelter there."
"Anywhere-so we can catch a few hours'
nap."
We proceeded around the field with caution,
for the plantation house was not far away.
Passing a building where the grinding was done,
we entered a long, low drying shed. Here we
struck a match, and by the flickering light
espied a heap of dry husks, upon which we
immediately threw ourselves.
"We'll have to be up and away before daybreak," said my'chum, as he drew off his wet
coat, an example which I at once followed, even
though it was so warm I did not suffer greatly
from the dampness. "We would be sorry fellows to give an explanation if we were stopped
in this vicinity."
" Yes, and for the matter of that, we had better sleep with one eye open," I rejoined. And
then we turned in, and both presently fell asleep
through sheer exhaustion.
How long I had been sleeping I did not know.




I4


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


I awoke with a start, to find a cold nose pressing against my face.
" Hi! get out of here!" I cried, and then the
owner of the nose leaped back and uttered the
low, savage, and unmistakable growl of a Cuban
bloodhound!




CHAPTER III.


IN THE WILDS OF THE ISLAND.
To say that I was alarmed when I found that
the intruder in our sleeping quarters was a
bloodhound would be to put the fact very
mildly. I was truly horrified, and a chill shook
my frame as I had a momentary vision of being
torn to pieces by the bloodthirsty animal.
My cry awoke Alano,, who instantly asked
what was the matter, and then yelled at the
beast in Spanish.  As the creature retreated,
evidently to prepare for a rush upon us, I sprang
to my feet and grasped a short ladder which led
to the roof of the shed.
"Come!" I roared to my chum, and Alano
did so; and both of us scrambled up, with the
bloodhound snarling and snatching at our feet.
He even caught the heel of my boot, but I
kicked him off, and we reached the top of the
shed in temporary safety. Baffled, the dog ran
out of the shed and began to bay loudly, as
though summoning assistance.
"We're in for it now!" I groaned. "We
z5




I6


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


can't get away from the dog, and he'll arouse
somebody before long."
"Well, we can't help ourselves," replied
Alano, with a philosophical shrug of his shoulders. "Ha! somebody is coming now!"
He pointed through the semi-darkness, for it
was close to sunrise. A Cuban negro was ampproaching, a huge fellow all of six feet tall and
dressed in the garb of an overseer. He carried
a little triangular lantern, and as he drew closer
he yelled at the bloodhound in a Cuban patois
which was all Greek to me, but which Alano
readily understood. The dog stopped baying,
but insisted upon leading his master to the very
foot of the shed, where he stood with his nose
pointed up at us.
There was no help for it, so Alano crawled to
the edge of the roof and told the overseer what
was the trouble-that the dog had driven us
hither and that we were afraid of being killed.
A short conversation followed, and, then my
chum turned to me.
"XVe can go down now," he said. "The
overseer says the dog will not touch us so long
as he is around."
We leaped to the ground, although I must admit I did not do so with a mind perfectly at ease,
the bloodhound still looked so ugly. However,
beyond a few sniffs at my trousers-leg and a




IN THE WILDS OF THE ISLAND.


17


deep rumble of his voice, he offered no further
indignities.
" He wants to know who we are," said Alano,
after more conversation. "What shall I tell
him?"
" Tell him the truth, and ask him for help to
reach your father's plantation, Alano. He
won't know we escaped from Santiago de Cuba
without permission."
Alano did as directed. At the mention of
Sefnor Guerez' name the overseer held up his
hands in astonishment. He told Alano that he
knew his father well, that he had met the senfior
only two weeks previously, and that both
Alano's father and my own had thrown in their
fortunes with the insurgents!
" Is it possible! " I ejaculated. "My father,
too! Why, he must be still lame!"
" He is," said Alano, after further consultation with the newcomer. " My father, it seems,
had to join the rebels, or his plantation would
have been burned to the ground. There was a
quarrel with some Spanish sympathizers, and in
the end both your father and mine joined the
forces under General Calixto Garcia."
"And where are they now? "
" The overseer does not know."
"What of your mother and sisters?"
"He does not know about them either;" and




i8


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


for a moment Alano's handsome and manly
face grew very sober. "Oh, if I was only with
them!"
" And if I was only with my father! " I cried.
My father was all the world to me, and to be
separated from him at such a time was more
than painful. " Do you think he will help us?"
I went on, after a moment of silence.
The overseer agreed to do what he could for
us, although that would not be much. He was
an insurgent at heart, but his master and all
around him were in symfpathy with the Spanish
Government.
" He says for us to remain here and he will
bring us breakfast," said Alano, as the man
turned and departed, with the bloodhound at
his side. "And after that he will set us on a
road leading to Tiarriba and gave us a countersign which will help us into a rebel camp if there
is any around."
We secreted ourselves again in the cane shed,
and it was not long before the overseer returned,
bringing with him a kettle of steaming black
coffee, without which no Cuban breakfast seems
complete, and some fresh bread and half a dozen
hard-boiled eggs. He had also a bag of
crackers and a chunk of dried beef weighing
several pounds.
" Put those in your bags," he said to Alano,




IN THE WILDS OF THE ISLAND.


t9


indicating the beef and crackers. "You may
find it to your interest to keep out of sight for a
day or two, to avoid the Spanish spies."
The breakfast was soon dispatched, the provisions stored in our valises, and then the overseer took us up through the sugar-cane fields to
where a brook emptied into a long pond, covered with green weeds, among which frogs as
broad as one's hand croaked dismally. We
hurried around the pond, and our guide pointed
out a narrow, winding path leading upward
through a stony woods. Then he whispered a
few words to Alano, shook us both by the hand,
and disappeared.
"He says the countersign is ' Sagua'-after
the river and city of that name," explained my
chumn as we tramped along. " You must wave
your hand so if you see a man in the distance,"
and Alano twirled his arm over his head.
Stony though it was in the woods, the vegetation was thick and rank. On every side were
the trunks of decaying trees, overgrown with
moss-the homes of beetles, lizards, and snakes
innumerable. The snakes, most of them small
fellows not over a foot long, at first alarmed me,
but this only made Alano laugh.
" They could not harm you if they tried," he
said. " And they are very useful-they eat up so
many of the mosquitoes and gnats and lizards."




20


WHENA SANTIAGO FELL.


"But some of the snakes are dangerous," I
insisted.
Oh, yes; but they are larger."
"And what of wild animals?"
"We have nothing but wild hogs and a few
deer, and wild dogs too. And then there are
the alligators to be found in the rivers."
The sun had risen clear and hot, as is usual in
that region after a shower. Where the trees
were scattered, the rays beat down upon our
heads mercilessly, and the slippery ground fairly
steamed, so rapid was the evaporation. By
noon we had reached the top of a hill, and here
we rested and partook of several crackers each
and a bit of the beef, washing both down with
water from a spring, which I first strained
through a clean handkerchief, to get clear of the
insects and tiny lizards, which abounded everywhere.
"I can see a house ahead," announced Alano,
who had climbed a palm tree to view the surroundings. "We'll go on and see what sort
of a place it is before we. make ourselves
known."
Once again we shouldered our traps and set
out. The way down the hill was nearly as toilsome as the upward course on the opposite side
had been, for gnarled roots hidden in the rank
grasses made a tumble easy. Indeed, both of




IN THE WILDS OF THE ISLAND. - 21
us went down several times, barking our shins
and scratching our hands. Yet we kept on,
until the house was but a short distance off.
It was set in a small clearing; and as we approached we saw a man come out of the front
door and down the broad piazza steps. He was
dressed in the uniform of a captain in the
Spanish army.
" Back! " cried Alano; but it was too late, for
by pure accident the military officer had caught
sight of uis. He called out in Spanish to learn
who we were.
"He is a Spanish officer! " I whispered to
Alano. " Shall we face him and trust to luck to
get out of the scrape?"
" No, no! Come! " and, catching me by the
arm, Alano led the way around the clearing.
It was a bad move, for no sooner had we
turned than the officer called out to several soldiers stationed at a stable in the rear of the
house. These leaped on their horses, pistols
and sabers in hand, and, riding hard, soon surrounded us.
" Halte!.t" came the command; and in a moment more my Cuban chum and myself found
ourselves prisoners.


r




CHAPTER IV.


IN A NOVEL PRISON.
I looked with much foreboding upon the faces
of the soldiers who had surrounded us. All
were stern almost to the verge of cruelty, and
the face of the captain when he came up was no
exception to the rule. Alano and I learned
afterward that Captain Crabo had met the day
previous with a bitter attack from the insurgents, who had wounded six of his men, and this
had put him in anything but a happy frame of
mind.
"Who are you?" he demanded in Spanish,
as he eyed us sharply.
Alano looked at me in perplexity, and started
to ask me what he had best say, when the
Spanish captain clapped the flat side of his
sword over my chum's mouth.
"Talk so that I can understand you, or I'll
place you under arrest," he growled. And then
he added, "Are you alone?"
"Yes," said Alano.
"And where are you going?"
"I wish to join my father at Guantanamo.




IN A NO VEL PRISON.


23


His father is also with mine," and my chum
pointed to me.
"Your name?"
Seeing there was no help for it, Alano told
him. Captain Crabo did not act as if he had
heard it before, and we breathed easier. But
the next moment our hearts sank again.
"Well, we will search you, and if you carry no
messages and are not armed, you can go on."
"We have no messages," said Alano. "You
can search us and welcome."
He handed over his valise, and I followed suit.
Our pistols we had placed in the inner pockets
of our coats. By his easy manner my chum
tried to throw the Spaniards off their guard, but
the trick did not work. After going through
our bags, and confiscating several of my silk
handkerchiefs, they began to search our clothing, even compelling us to remove our boo-ts,
and the weapons were speedily brought to light.
"Ha! armed!" cried Captain Crabo. "They
are not so innocent as they seem. We will look
into their history a little closer ere we let them
go. Take them to the smoke-house until I
have time to make an investigation to-night.
We must be off for Pueblo del Cristo now."
Without ceremony we were marched off
across the clearing and around the back of the
stable, where stood a rude stone building evi



24


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


dently built many years before. Alano, told me
what the captain had said, and also explained
that the stone building was a smoke-house,
where at certain seasons of the year beef and
other meat were hung up to be dried and
smoked, in preference to simple drying in the
sun.
As might be expected, the smoke-house was
far from being a clean place; yet it had been
used for housing prisoners before, and these had
taken the trouble to brush the smut from the
stones inside, so it was not so dirty as it might
otherwise have been.
We were thrust into this building minus our
pistols and our valises. Then the door, a heavy
wooden affair swinging upon two rusty iron
hinges, was banged shut in our faces, a hasp and
spike were put into place, and we were left to
ourselves.
"Now we are in for it," I began, but Alano
stopped me short.
" Listen! " he whispered, and we did so, and
heard all of our enemies retreat. A few minutes
later there was the tramping of horses' feet, several commands in Spanish, and the soldiers rode
off.
" They have left us to ourselves, at any rate,"
said my chum, when we were sure they had departed. "And we are made of poor stuff in



IN A NOVEL PRISON.


25


deed if we cannot pick our way out of this
hole."
At first we were able to. see nothing, but a
little light shone in through several cracks in the
roof, and soon our eyes became accustomed to
the semi-darkness. We examined the walls, to
find them of solid masonry. The roof was out
of our reach, the floor so baked it was like
cement.
"We are prisoners now, surely, Mark," said
Alano -bitterly. " What will be our fate when
that capitan returns?"
"We'll be sent back to Santiago de Cuba
most likely, Alano. But we must try to escape.
I have an idea. Can you balance me upon your
shoulders, do you think?"
"I will try it. But what for?"
"I wish to examine the roof."
Not without much difficulty I succeeded in
reaching my chum's broad shoulders and standing upright upon them. I could now touch the
ceiling of the smoke-house with ease, and I had
Alano move around from spot to spot in a close
inspection of every bit of board and bark
above us.
" Here is a loose board!" I cried in a low
voice. "Stand firm, Alano."
He braced himself by catching hold of the
stone wall, and I shoved upward with all of my




26


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


strength. There was a groan, a squeak; the
board flew upward, and the sun shone down on
our heads.  I crawled through the opening
thus made, and putting down my, hand I helped
Alano to do likewise.
"Drop out of sight of the house!" he whispered.  "Somebody may be watching this
place."
We dropped, and waited in breathless silence
for several minutes, but no one showed himself.
Then we held a consultation.
"They thought we couldn't get out," I said.
"More than likely no one is left at the homestead but a servant or two."
" If only we co-uld get our bags and pistols,"
sighed Alano.
" We must get them," I rejoined, "for we
cannot go on without them. Let us sneak up
to the house and investigate. I see no dogs
around."
With extreme caution we left the vicinity of
the smoke-house, and, crawling on hands and
knees, made our way along a low hedge to
where several broad palms overshadowed a side
veranda. The door of the veranda was open,
and, motioning to Alano to follow, I ascended
the broad steps and dashed into the house.
" Now where? " questioned my Cuban chum,
as we hesitated in the broad and cool hallway.




IN A NO VEL PRISON.


27


" Here is a sitting room," and he opened the
door to it.
A voice broke upon our ear. A negro woman
was singing from the direction of the kitchen, as
she rattled among her earthenware pots. Evidently she was alone.
" If they left her on guard, we have little to
fear," I said, and we entered the sitting room.
Both of us uttered a faint cry of joy, for there
on the table rested our valises and provisions,
just as they had been taken from us. Inside of
Alano's bag were the two pistols with the cartridges.
" Now we can go at once," I said. "How
fortunate we have been! Let us not waste time
here."
" They owe us a meal for detaining us," replied my chum grimly. "Let me explore the
pantry in the next room."
He went through the whip-end curtains without a sound, and was gone several minutes.
When he came back his face wore a broad smile
and he carried a large napkin bursting open
with eatables of various kinds, a piece of cold
roast pork, some rice cakes, buns, and the remains of a chicken pie.
" We'll have a supper fit for a king! " he cried.
"Come on! I hear that woman coming."
And coming she was, in her bare feet, along




28


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


the polished floor. We had just time left to
seize our valises and make our escape when she
entered.
" Qu6 quiere V.? [What do you want?]" she
shouted, and then called upon us to stop; but,
instead, we ran from the dooryard as fast as we
could, and did not halt until the plantation was
left a good half mile behind.
" We are well out of that! " I gasped, throwing myself down under the welcome shade of
a cacao tree. " Do you suppose she will send
the soldiers in pursuit? "
" They would have hard work to find us," replied Alano. " Here, let us sample this eating I
brought along, and then be on our way. Remember we have still many miles to go."
We partook of some of the chicken pie and
some buns, the latter so highly spiced they
almost made me sneeze when I ate them, and
then went on our way again.
Our run had warmed us up, and now the sun
beat down upon our heads mercilessly as we
stalked through a tangle where the luxurious
vegetation  was knee-high.  We were glad
enough when we reached another woods,
through which there was a well-defined, although exceedingly poor, wagon trail. Indeed',
let me add, nearly all of the wagon roads in




IN A NO VEL PRISON.


29


Cuba, so I have since been told, are wretched
affairs at the best.
"We ought to be in the neighborhood of
Tiarriba," said Alano about the middle of the
afternoon.
"'We won't dare enter the town," I replied.
"Those soldiers were going there, you must remember."
" Oh, the chances are we'll find rebels enough
-on the quiet," he rejoined.
On we went, trudging through sand and
shells and not infrequently through mire several
inches to a foot deep. It was hard work, and I
wished more than once that we were on horseback. There was also a brook to cross, but the
bridge was gone and there was nothing left to
do but to ford the stream.
" It's not to our boot-tops," said Alano, after
an examination, "so we won't have to take our
boots and socks off. Come; I fancy there is a
good road ahead."
He started into the water, and I went after
him. We had reached the middle of the stream
when both of us let out a wild yell, and not without reason, for we had detected a movement
from the opposite bank, and now saw a monstrous alligator bearing swiftly down upon us!




CHAPTER V.


LOST AMONG THE HILLS.
Both Alano and I were almost paralyzed by
the sight of the huge alligator bearing down
upon us, his mouth wide open, showing his cruel
teeth, and his long tail shifting angrily from side
to side.
"Back!" yelled my Cuban chum, and back
we went, almost tumbling over each other in
our haste tot gain the bank from where we had
started.
The alligator lost no time in coming up behind, uttering what to me sounded like a snort
of rage. He had been lying half-hidden in the
mud, and the mud still clung to his scaly sides
and back. Altogether, he was the most horrible creature I had ever beheld.
Reaching the bank of the brook, with the alligator not three yards behind us, we fled up a
series of rocks overgrown with moss and vines.
We did not pause until we were at the very summit, then both of us drew our pistols and fired at
the blinking eyes. The bullets glanced from
the " 'gator's " head without doing much harm,
30




LOST AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.


and with another snort the terrifying beast
turned back into the brook and sank into a pool
out of sight.
" My gracious, Alano, supposing he had
caught us!" I gasped, when I could catch my
breath..
" We would have been devoured," he answered, with a shudder, for of all creatures the
alligator is the one most dreaded by Cubans,
being the only living beast on the island dangerous to life because of its strength..
" He must have been lying in wait for somebody," I remarked, after a moment's pause, during which we kept our eyes on the brook, in a
vain attempt to gain another look at our
tormentor.
"He was-it is the way they do, Mark. If
they can, they wait until you are alongside of
them. Then a blow from the tail knocks you
flat, and that ends the fight-for you," and
again Alano shuddered, and so did I.
" We can't cross," I said, a few minutes later,
as all remained quiet. "I would not attempt it
for a thousand dollars."
" Nor I-on foot. Perhaps we can do so by
means of the trees. Let us climb yonder palm
and investigate."
We climbed the palm*, a sloping tree covered
with numerous trailing vines. Our movements




32


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


disturbed countless beetles, lizards, and a dozen
birds, some of the latter flying off with a whir
which was startling. The top of the palm
reached, we swung ourselves to its neighbor,
standing directly upon the bank of the brook.
In a few minutes we had reached a willow and
then a cacao, and thus we crossed the stream in
safety, although not without considerable exertion.
The sun was beginning to set when we
reached a small village called by the natives San
Lerma-a mere collection of thatched cottages
belonging to some sheep-raisers. Before entering we made certain there were no soldiers
around.
Our coming brought half a dozen men,
women, and children to our side. They were
mainly of negro blood, and the children were
but scantily clothed. They commenced to ask
innumerable questions, which Alano, answered
as well as he could. One of the negroes had
heard of Sefior Guerez' plantation, and immediately volunteered to furnish us with sleeping
accommodations for the night.
"Many of us have joined the noble General
Garcia," he said, in almost a whisper. " I would
join too, but Teresa will not hear of it." Teresa
was his wife-a fat, grim-looking wench who
ruled the household with a rod of iron,. She




LOST AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.


33


grumbled a good deal at having to provide us
with a bed, but became very pleasant when
Alano slipped a small silver coin into her greasy
palm.
Feeling fairly secure in our quarters, we slept
soundly, and did not awaken until the sun was
shining brightly. The inevitable pot of black
coffee was over the fire, and the smoke of bacon
and potatoes frying in a saucepan filled the air.
Breakfast was soon served, after which we
greased our boots, saw to our other traps and
our bag of provisions, which we had not opened,
and proceeded on our way-the husband of Teresa.wishing us well, and the big-eyed children
staring after us in silent wonder and curiosity.
"That is a terrible existence," I said to
Alano. "Think of living in that fashion all
your life! "
" They know no better," he returned philosophically. "And I fancy they are happy in
their way. Their living comes easy to them,
and they never worry about styles in clothing
or rent day. Sometimes they have dances and
other amusements. Didn't you see the homemade guitar on the wall? "
On we went, past the village and to a highway which we had understood would take us to
Tiarriba, but which. took us to nothing
of the sort. As we proceeded the sun grew




34


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


more oppressive than ever, until I was glad
enough to take Alano's advice, and place some
wet grass in my hat to keep the top of my head
cool.
" It will rain again soon," said Alano, " and if
it comes from the right quarter it will be much
cooler for several days after."
The ground now became hilly, and we walked
up and down several places which were steep
enough to cause us to pant for breath. By
noon we reckoned we had covered eight or nine
miles. We halted for our midday rest and meal
under some wild peppers,, and we had not yet
finished when we heard the low rumble of
thunder.
"The storm is coming, sure enough!" I exclaimed. "What had we best do-find some
shelter?"
" That depends, Mark. If the lightning is
going to be strong, better seek the open air.
We do not want to be struck."
We went on, hoping that some village would
soon be found, but none appeared. The rain
commenced to hit the tree leaves, and soon
there was a steady downpour. We buttoned
our coats tightly around the neck, and stopped
under the spreading branches of an uncultivated
banana tree, the halt-ripe fruit of which hung
within easy reach.




LOST AMONG THE MOUNTAINS.


35


The thunder had increased rapidly, and now
from out of the ominous-looking clouds the
lightning played incessantly. Alano shook his
head dubiously.
"Do you know what I think?" he said.
"Well?
"I think we have missed our way. If we
were on the right road we would have come to
some dwelling ere this. I believe we have
branched off on some forest trail."
"Let us go on, Alano. See, the rain is coming through the tree already."
It was tough work now, for the road was uphill and the clayey ground was slippery and
treacherous. It was not long before I took a
tumble, and would have rolled over some sharp
rocks had Alano not caught my arm. At one
minute the road seemed pitch-dark, at the next
a flash of lightning would nearly blind us.
Presently we gained the crest of a hill a little
higher than its fellows, and gazed around us.
On all sides were the waving branches of palms
and other trees, dotted here and there with
clearings of rocks and coarse grasses. Not a
building of any kind was in sight.
"It is as I thought," said my Cuban chum
dubiously. "We have lost our way in the hills."
"And what will we have to do-retrace our
steps?" I ventured anxiously.




36         WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
"I don't know. If we push on I suppose
we'll strike some place sooner or later."
"Yes, but our provisions won't last forever,
Alano."
" That is true, Mark, but we'll have to --
Oh!"
Alano stopped short and staggered back into
my arms. We had stepped for the moment
under the shelter of a stately palm. Now it was
as if a wave of fire had swept close to our face.
It was a flash of lightning; and it struck the tree
fairly on the top, splitting it from crown to
roots, and pinning us down under one of the
falling portions!




CHAPTER VI.


FROM ONE DIFFICULTY TO ANOTHER.
How we ever escaped from the falling tree I
do not fully know to this day. The lightning
stunned me almost as much as my companion,
and both of us went down in a heap in the soft
mud, for it was now raining in torrents. We
rolled over, and a rough bit of bark scraped my
face; and then I knew no more.
When I came to my senses I was lying in a
little gully, part of the way down the hillside.
Alano was at my side, a deep cut on his chin,
from which the blood was flowing freely. He
lay so still that I at first thought him dead, but
the sight of the flowing blood reassured me.
A strong smell of sulphur filled the air, and
this made me remember the lightning stroke.
I looked up the hill, to see the palm tree split as
I have described.
"Thank God for this escape!" I could not
help murmuring; and then I took out a handkerchief, allowed it to become wet, and bound
up Alano's cut. While I was doing this he
came to, gasped, and opened his eyes.
37




38


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


" Qu6-qu — " he stammered.     "Whawhat-was it, Mark?".
I told him, and soon had him sitting up, his
back propped against a rock. The cut on his
chin was not deep, and presently the flow of
blood stopped and he shook himself.
"It was a narrow escape," he said.  " I
warned you we must get out into the open."
"We'll be more careful in the future," I replied. And then I pointed to an opening in the
gully. " See, there is a cave. Let us get into
that while the storm lasts."
" Let us see if it is safe first. There may be
snakes within," returned Alano.
With caution we approached the entrance to
the cave, which appeared to be several yards
deep. Trailing vines partly hid the opening;
and, thrusting these aside, we took sticks, lit a
bit of candle I carried, and examined the interior.
Evidently some wild animal had once had its
home there, but the cave was now tenantless,
and we proceeded to make ourselves at home.
" We'll light a fire and dry our clothing," suggested Alano. " And if the rain continues we
can stay here all night."
" We might as well stay. To tramp through
the wet grass and brush would be almost as bad
as to have it rain-we would be soaked from our
waists down."




FROM ONE DIFFICULTY TO ANOTHER. 39
"Then we'll gather wood and stay," said he.
Quarter of an hour later we had coaxed up
quite a respectable fire in the shadow of a rock
at the entrance to the cave, which was just high
enough to allow us to stand upright, and was
perhaps twelve feet in diameter.  We piled
more wood on the blaze, satisfied that in its
damp condition we could not set fire to the
forest, and then retired to dry our clothing and
enjoy a portion of the contents of the provision
bag Alano had improvised out of the purloined
napkin.
As we ate we discussed the situation, wondering how far we could be from some village and
if there were any insurgents or Spanish soldiers
in the vicinity.
"The rebels could outwit the soldiers forever
in these hills," remarked Alano-" especially
those who are acquainted in the vicinity."
"But the rebels might be surrounded," I suggested.
"They said at Santiago they had too strong
a picket guard for that, Mark."
"But we have seen no picket guard. Supposing instead of two boys a body of Spanish
soldiers had come this way, what then?"
"In that case what would the Spanish soldiers have to shoot at?" he laughed. "We
have as yet seen no rebels."




4o


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"But we may meet them-before we know
it," I said, with a shake of my head.
Scarcely had I uttered the words than the
entrance to our resting-place was darkened by
two burly forms, and we found the muzzles of
two carbines thrust close to our faces.
"Who are you?" came in Spanish. "Put
up your hands!"
"Don't shoot!" cried Alano in alarm
"Come out of that!"
" It's raining too hard, and we have our coats
off, as you see. Won't you come in?"
At this the two men, bronzed and by no
means bad-looking fellows, laughed.  "Only
boys!" murmured one, and the carbines were
lowered and they entered the cave.
A long and rapid conversation with Alano,
which I could but imperfectly understand, followed. They asked who we were, where we
were going, how we had managed to slip out of
Santiago, if we were armed, if we carried messages, if we had the countersign, how we had
reached the cave, and a dozen other questions.
Both roared loudly when Alano said he thought
they were rebels.
"And so we are," said the one who appeared
to be the leader. "And we are proud of it.
Have you any objections to make?"
" No," we both answered in a breath, that




FROM ONE DIFFICULTY TO ANOTHER. 4!


being both English and Spanish, and I understanding enough of the question to be anxious
to set myself right with them.
"I think our fathers have become rebels,"
Alano answered. "At least, we were told so."
"Good!" said the leader. "Then we have
nothing to fear from two such brave lads as you
appear to be. And now what do you propose
to do-encamp here for the night?"
"Unless you can supply us with better accommodations," rejoined my chum.
"We can supply you with nothing. We
have nothing but what is on us," laughed the
second rebel.
Both told us later that they were on special
picket duty in that neighborhood. They had
been duly enlisted under General Garcia, but
were not in uniform, each wearing only a wet
and muddy linen suit, thick boots, and a plain
braided palm hat. Around his waist each had
strapped a leather belt, and in this stuck a
machete-a long, sharp, and exceedingly cruellooking knife. Over the shoulder was another
strap, fastened to a canvas bag containing
ammunition and other articles of their outfit.
These specimens of the rebels were hardly
what I had expected to see, yet they were so
earnest in their manner I could not help but admire them. One of them had brought down a




42


4  WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


couple of birds, and these were cooked over our
fire and divided among all hands, together with
the few things we had to offer. After the meal
each soldier placed a big bite of tobacco in his
mouth, lit a cigarette, and proceeded to make
himself comfortable.
"The Spaniards will not move in this
weather," said one. "They are too afraid of
getting wet and taking cold."
Darkness had come upon us, and it was still
raining as steadily as ever. Our clothing was
dry; and, as the cave was warmed, the rebel
guards ordered us to put out the fire, that it
might not attract attention during the night.
We were told that we had made several mistakes on the 'road and were far away from
Tiarriba. If we desire to go there, the rebels
said they would put us on the right road.
"But if you are in sympathy with us, you had
better pass Tiarriba by," said one to Alano.
"The city is filled with Spanish soldiers, and
you may not be able to get away as easily as you
did from Santiago."
Alano consulted with me, and then asked the
rebel what we had best do.
"That depends. Do you want to join the
forces under General Garcia?"
"We want to join our fathers at or near
Guantanamo."




FROM ONE DIFFICULTY TO ANOTHER. 43


"Garcia is pushing on in that direction. You
had best join the army and stay with it until
Guantanamo is reached."
" But we will have to fight?" said my Cuban
chum.
The guard smiled grimly, exhibiting a row of
large white teeth.
" As you will. The general will not expect
too much from boys."
There the talk ended, one of the rebels deeming it advisable to take a tramp over to the next
hill and back, and the other crouching down in
a corner for a nap. With nothing else to do,
we followed the example of the latter, and were
soon in dreamland.
A single call from the man who had slept beside us brought us to our feet at daybreak. The
storm had cleared away, and now it was positively cool-so much so that I was glad enough
to button my coat up tightly and be thankful
that the fire had dried it so well. The second
rebel was asleep, and had been for two hours.
We followed one out of the cave without arousing the other.
A tramp of half a mile brought us to a high
bank, and here our rebel escort left us.
" Across the bank you will find a wagon-road
leading to the west," he said. " Follow that,
and you cannot help but meet some of our party




44


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


sooner or later. Remember the new password,
' Maysi,' and you will be all right," and then he
turned and disappeared from sight in the bush.
The climb to the top of the bank was not difficult, and, once over it, the road he had mentioned lay almost at our feet. We ran down to
it with lighter hearts than we had had for some
time, and struck out boldly, eating a light breakfast as we trudged along.
"I hope we strike no more adventures until
the vicinity of Guantanamo is reached," I
observed.
"We can hardly hope for that, Mark," smiled
my chum. "Remember we are journeying
through a country where war is raging. Let us
be thankful if we escape the battles and skirmishes."
"And shooting down by some ambitious
sharpshooter," I added. "By the way, I wonder if our folks are looking for us?"
" It may be they sent word not to come, when
they saw how matters were going, Mark. I am
sure your.father would not want you to run the
risk that    Look! look! We must hide!"
Alano stopped short, caught me by the arm,
and pointed ahead. Around a turn in the road
a dozen horsemen had swept, riding directly
toward us. A glance showed that they were
Spanish guerrillas!




CHAPTER VII.


FOOLING THE SPANISH GUERRILLAS.
"Halte! "
It was the cry of the nearest of the Spanish
horsemen. He had espied us just as Alano let
out his cry of alarm, and now he came galloping
toward us at a rapid gait.
"Let us run!" I ejaculated to my Cuban
chum. " It is our only chance."
" Yes, yes! but to where? " he gasped, staring
around in bewilderment. On one side of the
road was a woods of mahogany, on the other
some palms and plantains, with here and there
a great rock covered with thick vines.
" Among the rocks-anywhere! " I returned.
"Come!" And, catching his hand, I led the
way from the road while the horseman was yet
a hundred feet from us.
Another cry rang out-one I could not
understand, and a shot followed, clipping
through the broad leaves over our heads. The
horseman left the road, but soon came to a stop,
his animal's progress blocked by the trees and
rocks. He yelled to his companions, and all of
the guerrillas came up at topmost speed.
45




46


WHEN SANiTIAGO FELL.


"They will dismount and be after us in a
minute!" gasped Alano. "Hark! they are
coming already!"
"On! on!" I urged. "We'll find some hiding-place soon."
Around the rocks and under the low-hanging
plantains we sped, until the road was left a hundred yards behind. Then we came to a gully,
where the vegetation was heavy. Alano pointed
down to it.
"We can hide there," he whispered. "But
we will be in danger of snakes. Yet it is the
best we can do."
I hesitated. To make the acquaintanceship
of a serpent in that dense grass was not pleasant
to contemplate. But what else was there to do?
The footsteps of our pursuers sounded nearer.
Down went Alano, making leaps from rock
to rock, so that no trail would be left. I followed at his heels, and, coming to a rock which
was partly hollowed out at one side and thickly
overgrown, we crouched under it and pulled the
vines and creepers over us.
It was a damp, unwholesome spot, but there
was no help for it, and when several enormous
black beetles dropped down and crawled around
my neck I shut my lips hard to keep from crying
out. We must escape from the enemy, no matter what the cost, for even if they did not make




FOOLING THE SPANISH GUERRILLAS.   47


us prisoners we knew they would take all we
possessed and even strip the coats from our
backs.
Peering from between the vines, we-presently
caught sight of three of the Spaniards standing
at the top of the gully, pistols in hand, on the
alert for a sight of us. They were dark, uglylooking fellows, with heavy black mustaches and
faces which had not had a thorough washing in
months. They were dressed in the military uniform of Spain, and carried extra bags of canvas
slung from their shoulders, evidently meant for
booty. That they were tough customers Alano
said one could tell by their vile manner of
speech.
"Do you see them, Carlo?" demanded one of
the number. "I thought they went down this
hollow?"
"I see nothing," was the answer, coupled
with a vile exclamation. "They disappeared as
if by magic."
"They were but boys."
"Never mind, they were rebels-that is
enough," put in the third guerrilla, as he chewed
his mustache viciously. "I wish I could get a
shot at them."
At this Alano pulled out his pistol and motioned for me to do the same.
"We may as well be prepared for the worst,"




48


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


he whispered into my ear. " They are not soldiers, they are robbers-bandits."
" They look bad enough for anything," I answered, and produced my weapon, which I had
not discharged since the brush with the alligator.
" If they are in the hollow it is odd we do not
see them on their trail," went on one of the bandits. "Perhaps they went around."
His companions shook their heads.
" I'll thrash around a bit," said one of them;
and, leaving the brink of the gully, he started
straight for our hiding-place.
My heart leaped into my throat, and I feared
immediate discovery. As for Alano, he shoved
his pistol under his coat, and I heard a muffled
click as the hammer was raised.
When within ten feet of us the ugly fellows
-stopped, and I fairly held my breath, while my
heart appeared to beat like a trip-hammer. He
looked squarely at the rock which sheltered us,
and I could not believe he would miss discovering us. Once he started and raised his pistol, and I imagined our time had come; but
then he turned to one side, and I breathed
easier.
"They did not come this way, capitan!" he
shouted. " Let us go around the hollow."
In another moment all three of the bandits




FOOLING THE SPANISH GUERRILLAS.  49


were out of sight. We heard them moving in
the undergrowth behind us, and one of them
gave a scream as a snake was stirred up and
dispatched with a saber.  Then all became
quiet.
"What is best to do now?" I asked, when I
thought it safe to speak.
"Hush!" whispered Alano. "They may be
playing us dark."
A quarter of an hour passed,-it seemed ten
times that period of time just then,-and we
heard them  coming back.  They were very
angry at their want of success; and had we been
discovered, our fate would undoubtedly have
been a hard one. They stalked back to the
road, and a moment later we heard the hoofstrokes of their horses receding in the distance.
"Hurrah!" I shouted, but in a very subdued
tone. "That's the time we fooled them,
Alano."
My Cuban chum smiled grimly. "Yes, Mark,
but we must be more careful in the future.
Had we not been so busy talking we might have
heard their horses long before they came into
view. However, the scare is over, so let us put
our best foot forward once again."
"If only we had horses too!" I sighed.
"My feet are beginning to get sore from the
uneven walking."




so


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"Horses would truly be convenient at times.
But we haven't them, and must make the best of
it. When we stop for our next meal you had
best take off your boots and bathe your feet.
You will be astonished how much rest that will
afford them."
I followed this advice, and found Alano was
right; and after that I bathed my feet as often as
I got the chance. Alano suffered no inconvenience in this particular, having climbed the
hills since childhood.
We were again on rising ground, and now
passed through a heavy wood of cedars, the
lower branches sweeping our hats as we passed.
This thick shade was very acceptable, for the
glare of the sun had nearly blinded me, while
more than once I felt as if I would faint from the
intense heat.
"It's not such a delightful island as I fancied
it," I said to my chum. "I much prefer the
United States."
"That depends," laughed Alano.    "The
White Mountains or the Adirondacks are perhaps nicer, but what of the forests and everglades in Florida?"
"Just as bad as this, I suppose."
"Yes, and worse, for the ground is wetter, I
believe. But come, don't lag. We must make
several more miles before we rest."




FOOLING THE SPANISH GUERRILLAS.    51
We proceeded up a hill and across a level
space which was somewhat cleared of brush and
trees. Beyond we caught sight of a thatched
hut. Hardly had it come into view than from
its interior we heard a faint cry for help.




CHAPTER VIII.


ANDRES.
"What is that?" ejaculated Alano, stopping
short and catching my arm.
"A cry of some kind," I answered.
"Listen!"
We stepped behind some trees, to avoid any
enemies who might be about, and remained silent. Again came the cry.
"It is a man in distress!" said Alano presently. " He asks us not to desert him."
" Then he probably saw us from the window
of the hut. What had we best do?"
" You remain here, and I will investigate,"
rejoined my Cuban chum.
With caution he approached the thatched hut,
a miserable affair, scarcely twelve feet square
and six feet high, with the trunks of palm trees
as the four corner-posts. There were one tiny
window and a narrow door, and Alano after
some hesitation entered the latter, pistol in hand.. " Come, Mark! " he cried presently, and I ran
forward and joined him.
52




ANDYRES.


53


A pitiable scene presented itself. Closely
bound to a post which ran up beside the window
was a Cuban negro of perhaps fifty years of age,
gray-haired and wrinkled. He was scantily
clothed, and the cruel green-hide cords which
bound him had cut deeply into his flesh, in many
places to such an extent that the blood was flowing. The negro's tongue was much swollen,
and the first thing he begged for upon being released was a drink of water.
We obtained the water, and also gave him
what we could to eat, for which he thanked us.
over and over again, and would have kissed our
hands had we permitted it. He was a tall man,
but so thin he looked almost like a skeleton.
" For two days was I tied up," he explained
to Alano, in his Spanish patois. " I thought I
would die of hunger and thirst, when, on raising
my eyes, I beheld you and your companion.
Heaven be praised for sending you! Andres
will never forget you for your goodness, never! "
" And how came you in this position? " questioned my chum.
" Ah, dare I tell, master?"
"You are a rebel?"
The negro lowered his eyes and was silent.
"If you are, you have nothing to fear from
us," continued Alano.
" Ah —good! good! ' Andres wrung his hand.




54


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"Yes, I am a rebel. For two years I fought'
under our good General Maceo and under Garcia. But I am old, I cannot climb the mountains as of yore, and I got sick and was sent
back. The Spanish soldiers followed me,
robbed me of what little I possessed, and, instead of shooting me, bound me to the post as a
torture. Ah, but they are a cruel set!" And
the eyes of the negro glowed wrathfully. "If
only I was younger!"
"Were the Spaniards on horseback?" asked
Alano.
"Yes, master-a dozen of them."
Alano described the bandits we had met,
and Andres felt certain they must be the same
crowd. The poor fellow could scarcely stand,
and sank down on a bed of cedar boughs and
palm branches. We did what we could for him,
and in return he invited us to make his poor
home our own.
There was a rude fireplace behind the hut,
and here hung a great iron pot. Rekindling
the fire, we set the pot to boiling; and Andres
hobbled around to prepare a soup, or rather
broth, made of green plantains, rice, and a bit of
dried meat the bandits had not discovered,
flavoring the whole mess with garlic. The dish
was not particularly appetizing to me, but I was
tremendously hungry and made way with a fair




ANDRES.


55


share of it, while Alano apparently enjoyed his
portion.
It was dark when the meal was finished, and
we decided to remain at the hut all night, satisfied that we would be about as secure there as
anywhere. The smoke of the smoldering fire
kept the mosquitoes and gnats at a distance, and
Andres found for us a couple of grass hammocks,
which, when slung from the corner-posts, made
very comfortable resting-places.
During the evening Alano questioned Andres
closely, and learned that General Garcia was
pushing on toward Guantanamo, as we had previously been informed. Andres did not know
Senior Guerez, but he asserted that many
planters throughout the district had joined the
rebel forces, deserting their canefields and taking all of their help with them.
"The men are poorly armed," he continued.
"Some have only their canefield knives-but
even with these they are a match for the Spanish
soldiers, on account of their bravery "-an
assertion which later on proved, for the greater
part, to be true.
The night passed without an alarm of any
kind, and before sunrise we were stirring around,
preparing a few small fish Alano had been lucky
enough to catch in a near-by mountain stream.
These fish Andres baked by rolling them in a




56


WHEN SA NVTIAGO FELL.


casing of clay; and never have I eaten anything
which tasted more delicious.
Before we left him the Cuban negro gave us
minute directions for reaching the rear guard of
the rebel army. He said the password was still
Maysi."
"You had better join the army," he said, on
parting. "You will gain nothing by trying to
go around. And you, master Alano-if your
father has joined the forces, it may be that will
gain you a horse and full directions as to just
where your parent is," and as we trudged off
Andres wished us Godspeed and good luck over
and over again, with a friendly wave of his black
bony hand.
The cool spell, although it was really only
cool by contrast, had utterly passed, and as the
sun came up it seemed to fairly strike one a blow
upon the head. We were traveling along the
edge of a low cliff, and shade was scarce, although we took advantage of every bit which
came in our way. The perspiration poured
from our faces, necks, and hands; and about ten
o'clock I was forced to call a halt and throw myself on my back on the ground.
"I knew it would be so," said my chum.
"That is why I called for an early start. We
might as well rest until two or three in the after



ANDRES.


57


noon. Very few people travel here in the heat
of the day."
" It is suffocating," I murmured. "Like one
great bake-oven and steam-laundry combined."'
" That is what makes the vegetation flourish,"
he smiled. " Just see how it grows! "
I did not have far to look to notice it. Before us was a forest of granadilla and rosewood,
behind us palms and plantains, with an occasional cacao and mahogany tree. The ground
was covered with long grass and low brush, and
over all hung the festoons of vines of many
colors, some blooming profusely. A smell of
" something growing green " filled the hot air,
and from every side arose the hum of countless
insects and the occasional note of a bird.
" I wouldn't remain on the ground too long,"
remarked Alano presently. " When one is hot
and lies down, that is the time to take on a fever.
Better rest in yonder tree-it is more healthy;
and, besides, if there is any breeze stirring, there
is where you will catch it." 
" We might as well be on a deserted island as
to be in Cuba," I said, after both of us had
climbed into a mahogany tree. "There is not a
building nor a human soul in sight. I half believe we are- lost again."
Alano smiled. " Let us rather say, as your




58         WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
Indian said, 'We are not lost, we are here. The
army and the towns and villages are lost,' " and
he laughed at the old joke, which had been the
first he had ever read, in English, in a magazine
at Broxville Academy.
" Well, it's just as bad, Alano. I, for one, am
tired of tramping up hill and down. If we could
reach the army and get a couple of horses, it
would be a great improvement."
My chum was about to reply to this, when he
paused and gave a start. And I started, too,
when I saw what was the trouble. On a limb
directly over us, and ready to descend upon our
very heads, was a serpent all of six feet in length!




CHAPTER IX.


ACROSS THE CANEFIELDS.
"Look, Mark! " ejaculated Alano.
"A snake! " I yelled. " Drop! drop!"
I had already dropped to the limb upon which
I had been sitting. Now, swinging myself by
the hands, I let go and descended to the ground,
a distance of twelve or fifteen feet.
In less than a second my Cuban chum came
tumbling after me. The fall was no mean one,
and had the grass under the tree been less deep
we might have suffered a sprained ankle or
other injury. As it was, we both fell upon our
hands and knees.
Gazing up at the limb we had left, we saw the
serpent glaring down at us, its angry eyes shining like twin diamonds. How evil its intention
had been we could but surmise. It was possible it had intended to attack us both. It slid
from the upper limb to the lower, and stretched
out its long, curling neck, while it emitted a hiss
that chilled my blood.
" It's coming down! Run! " I began; when
bang! went Alano's pistol, and I saw the serpent
give a quiver, and coil and uncoil itself around
sQ




6o


WHEN SANTIA GO FELL.


the limb. The bullet had entered its neck, but
it was not fatally wounded; and now it came for
us, landing in the grass not a dozen feet from
where we stood.
Luckily, while traveling along the hills, we
had provided ourselves with stout sticks to aid
us in climbing. These lay near, and, picking
one up, I stood on the defensive, certain the
reptile would not dare to show much fight.
But it did, and darted for me with its dullcolored head raised a few inches out of the grass.
With all of the strength at my command I
swung the stick around the instant it came
within reach. It tried to dodge, but failed; and,
struck in the neck, turned over and over as
though more than half stunned.
By this time Alano had secured the second
stick, and now he rushed in and belabored the
serpent over the head and body until it was
nearly beaten into a jelly. I turned sick at the
sight, and was glad enough when it was all over
and the reptile was dead beyond all question.
"That was a narrow   escape!" I panted.
"Alano, don't you advise me to rest in a tree
again. I would rather run the risk of fever ten
times over."
"Serpents are just as bad in the grass," he
replied simply. "Supposing he had come up
when you were flat on your back!"




ACROSS THE CANEFIELDS.


6I


"Let us get away from here-there may be
more.  And throw away that stick-it may
have poison on it."
"That serpent was not poisonous, Mark.
But I will throw it away,-it is so covered with
blood,-and we can easily cut new ones."
The excitement had made me forget the heat,
and we went on for over a mile. Then, coming
to a mountain stream, we sat down to take it
easy until the sun had passed the zenith and it
was a trifle cooler.
About four o'clock in the afternoon, or evening, as they call it in Cuba, we reached the end
of the woods and came to the edge of an immense sugar-cane field. The cane waved high
over our heads, so that what buildings might be
beyond were cut off from view. There was a
rough cart-road through the field, and after
some hesitation we took to this, it being the
only road in sight.
We had traveled on a distance of half a mile
when we reached a series of storehouses, each
silent and deserted. Beyond was a house, probably belonging to the overseer of the plantation,
and this was likewise without occupant, the
windows and doors shut tightly and bolted.
"All off to the war, I suppose," I said.
"And I had half an idea we might get a chance
to sleep in a bed to-night."




62


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"We might take possession," Alano suggested.
But to this proposition I shook my head.
"We might be caught and shot as intruders.
Come on. Perhaps the house of the owner is
further on."
Stopping for a drink at an old-fashioned well,
we went on through the sugar cane until we
reached a small stream, beyond which was a
boggy spot several acres in extent.
"We'll have to go around, Alano," I said.
"Which way will be best?"
"The ground appears to rise to our left,"
he answered.   "We'll try in that direction."
Pushing directly through the cane, I soon discovered, was no. mean work. It was often wellnigh impossible to break aside the stout stalks,
and the stubble underfoot was more than trying
to the feet. We went on a distance of a hundred yards, and then on again to the stream,
only to find the same bog beyond.
"We'll have to go further yet," said Alano.
"Come, Mark, ere the sun gets too low."
"Just a few minutes of rest," I pleaded, and
pulled down the top of a cane. The sweet juice
was exceedingly refreshing, but it soon caused
a tremendous thirst, which I gladly slaked
at the not over clear stream. Another jog of




ACROSS THE CANEFIELDS.


63


quarter of an hour, and we managed to cross at
a point which looked like solid ground.
"How far do you suppose this field extends??" I asked.
"I have no idea; perhaps but a short distance,
and then again it may be a mile or more. Some
of the plantations out here are very large."
" Do you think we can get back to the road?
I can't go much further through this stubble."
"I'll break the way, Mark. You follow me."
On we went in the direction we imagined the
trail to be, but taking care to avoid the bog. I
was almost ready to drop from exhaustion, when
Alano halted.
"Mark!"
"What now, Alano?"
" Do you know where we are? "
" In a sugar-cane field," I said, trying to keep
up my courage.
" Exactly, but we are lost in it."
I stared at him.
"Can one become lost in a sugar-cane field?"
I queried.
" Yes, and badly lost, for there is nothing one
can climb to take a view of the surroundings.
Even if you were to get upon my shoulders you
could see but little."
" I'll try it," I answered, and did so without
delay, for the sun was now sinking in the west.




64


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


But my chum had been right; try my best I
could not look across the waving cane-tops.
We were hedged in on all sides, with only the
setting sun to mark our course.
"It's worse than being out on an open
prairie," I remarked. " What shall we do? "
" There is but one thing-push on," rejoined
Alano gravely; "unless you want to spend a
night here."
Again we went on, but more slowly, for even
my chum was now weary. The wet ground
passed, we struck another reach of upland, and
this gave us hope, for we knew the sugar cane
would not grow up the hills. But the rise soon
came to an end, and we found ourselves going
down into a worse hollow than that we had left.
Ere we knew it, the water was forming around
our boots.
" We must go back! " I cried.
" I think it is drier a few yards beyond," said
Alano. " Don't go back yet."
The sun had set, so far as we were concerned,
and it was dark at the foot of the cane-stalks.
We plowed on, getting deeper and deeper into
the bog or mire. It was a sticky paste, and I
could hardly move one foot after another. I
called to Alano to halt, and I had scarcely done
so when he uttered an ejaculation of disgust.
"What is it?" I called.




ACROSS THE CAAEFIELDS.        65
"I can't move-I am stuck! "
I looked ahead and saw that he spoke the
truth. He had sunk to the tops of his boots,
and every effort to extricate himself only made
him settle deeper.
I endeavored to gain his side and aid him, but
it was useless. Ere I was aware I was as deep
and deeper than Alano, and there we stood,and stuck,-unable to help ourselves, with night
closing rapidly in upon us.




CHAPTER X.


A COUNCIL OF THE ENEMY.
" Well, this is the worst yet," I said, after a
minute of silence. Somehow, I felt like laughing, yet our situation was far from being a
laughing matter.
" We have put our foot into it, and no mistake," rejoined Alano dubiously.
" Say feet, Alano,-and legs,-and you'll be
nearer it. What on earth is to be done?"
" I don't know. See, I am up to my thighs
already. In an hour or so I'll be up to my
neck."
To this I made no reply: I had drawn my
pistol, and with the crook of the handle was endeavoring to hook a thick sugar-cane stalk
within my reach. Several times I had the stalk
bent over, but it slipped just as I was on the
point of grasping it.
But I persevered,-there was nothing else to
try,-and at last my eager fingers encircled the
stalk. I put my pistol away and pulled hard,
and was overjoyed to find that I was drawing
myself up out of my unpleasant position
66




A CO UNCIL OF THE ENEMY.


67


"Be careful-or the stalk will break," cautioned my Cuban chum, when crack! it did split,
but not before I was able to make a quick leap
on top of the clump of roots. Here I sank
again, but not nearly as deeply as before.
The leap I had taken had brought me closer
to Alano, and now I was enabled to break down
a number of stalks within his reach. He got a
firm hold and pulled with all of his might, and a
moment later stood beside me.
" Oh, but I'm glad we're out of that!" were
his first words. "I thought I was planted for
the rest of my life."
" We must get out of the field. See, it will
be pitch dark in another quarter of an hour."
" Let us try to go back-it will be best."
We turned around, and took hold of each
other's hands, to balance ourselves on the sugarcane roots, for we did not dare to step in the
hollows between. Breaking down the cane was
slow and laborious work, and soon it was too
dark to see our former trail. We lost it, but
this was really to our advantage, for, by going
it blindly for another quarter of an hour, we
emerged into an opening nearly an acre square
and on high and dry ground.
Once the patch was reached, we threw ourselves down on the grass panting for breath, the
heavy perspiration oozing from every pore.




68


WHETN SANTIAGO FELL.


We had had another narrow escape, and silently
I thanked Heaven for my deliverance.
Toward the higher end of the clearing was a
small hut, built of logs plastered with sun-baked
clay. We came upon it by accident in the dark,
and, finding it deserted, lit our bit of candle before mentioned and made an examination.
" It's a cane-cutter's shanty," said Alano. " I
don't believe anybody will be here to-night, so
we might as well remain and make ourselves
comfortable."
" We can do nothing else," I returned. "We
can't travel in the darkness."
Both of us were too exhausted to think of
building a fire or preparing a meal. We ate
some of our provisions out of our hands, pulled
off our water-soaked boots, and were soon
asleep on the heaps of stalks the shanty contained. Once during the night I awoke to find
several species of vermin crawling around, but
even this was not sufficient to make me rouse
up against the pests. I lay like a log, and the
sun was shining brightly when Alano shook me
heartily by the shoulder.
" Going to sleep all day? " he queried.
" Not much! " I cried, springing up. " Hullo,
if you haven't got breakfast ready!" I added,
glancing to where he had built a fire.
" Yes; I thought I'd let you sleep for a while,"




A CO UNCIL OF THE EArEM Y.


69


he answered. " Fall to, and we'll be on our
way. If we have good luck we may strike a
part of General Garcia's army to-day."
" If we can get out of this beastly canefield."
" I've found a way out, Mark. Finish your
meal, and I'll show you."
Breakfast was speedily dispatched, and, having put on my boots, which were stiff and
hard from the wetting received, and taken up
my valise, I followed Alano to the extreme
southwest end of the clearing. Here there was
an ox-cart trail, leading in a serpentine fashion
through the canefield to still higher ground.
Beyond were the inevitable rocks and woods.
" We seem to have missed everything," I said
pointedly. " We have been lost several times,
and even now we don't know where we
are."
" We know we're not sinking to the bottom
of that sugar-cane field," replied my Cuban
chum grimly. "That's something to be thankful for. Ah, look-there is quite a respectablelooking highway. Let us take to that and keep
our eyes and ears open. It must lead to somewhere."
We had reached the highway at right-angles,
and now we pursued a course directly eastward,
which we felt must bring us closer and closer to
the vicinity of Guantanamo. I asked Alano if




7o


WHEN SAN TIAGO FELL.


he recognized the country at all, but he shook
his head.
"I was never out in this direction," he explained. "My journeys have always been from
Guantanamo to Santiago by water."
As we progressed we passed several isolated
huts, and then a village containing perhaps a
score of dwellings. The separate huts were deserted without exception, but in the village we
came across three tall and bony colored women,
who eyed us with great suspicion.
Alano began to open a friendly conversation
in Spanish with them, and offered to pay them
well if they would get us up a good dinner. But
this they could not do, for there was little to be
had outside of some vegetables. They said they
had had some meat, but it had all been confiscated by the soldiers who had passed through
only the evening before.
"She means a body of Spanish soldiers," said
Alano, after some more talk with the oldest of
the women. "She Says there were about a
hundred of them on horseback, and they were
following up a detachment of General Garcia's
volunteers."
"If that is so they can't be far off," I rejoined. "We must be more careful than
ever."
"If only we could catch up to them, get




A CO UNCIL OF THE ENEM Y.


71


around them, and warn our fellows!" remarked
Alano, his black eyes sparkling.
" It's easy to see you're a rebel," I said, laughing.
" And why not-if my father is one? Come,
what do you say?"
" I am with you, if it can be done. But we
mustn't run into needless danger, Alano."
" We will take care, Mark."
Luckily, the sun had gone under the clouds,
so it was not so warm when we resumed our
journey, after the negro women had supplied us
with the best meal at their command. They
smiled broadly when Alano told them he was a
rebel sympathizer, and each declared her husband had joined General Garcia's army several
weeks previously.
The road now led along the southern edge of
a deep ravine, bordered upon either side with
wild plantains and cacao trees, with here and
there an occasional palm. The highway was
stony, and presently Alano called a halt.
"Hark!" he said, holding up his hand; and
we listened, to discern the tramping of horses'
hoofs some distance ahead.
"There are a good many horses," I said.
"Perhaps it is the Spanish detachment."
Alano nodded. "Follow me, and take to the
woods if I hiss," he replied.




72


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


On we went again, but slower than before.
The road now wound around to the right, up
under a cliff backed up by a small mountain.
As the sun was behind the mountain, the path
was dark in its more sheltered portions.
Suddenly Alano let out a soft hiss., and we
leaped back behind a convenient rock.
"They are just ahead!" he cried softly.
"They have quartered themselves for the middle of the day in a cave-like opening under the
cliff, where it is, no doubt, cool and pleasant."
" Well, what had we best do.?"
"Get around them, by some means, Mark.
But, hold up! Wouldn't it be fine if we could
draw close enough to overhear them-if they
are talking over their plans!"
"It would be risky," I hesitated.
"Yes, but think of the service we might do
my countrymen!"
"That is true. Well, I'm with you, Alano,
but for gracious' sake be careful!"
We talked the matter over for a few minutes,
and then retraced our steps to where a narrow
path led to the top of the cliff. Climbing this,
we crawled along the edge of the cliff until we
reached a spot directly over the encamped
Spaniards,.
They were a hearty, bold-looking set of men,
handsomely uniformed and thoroughly armed,




A CO UNCIL OF THE ENEMY.        73
presenting a decided contrast to the dirty guerrillas we had previously encountered. A number of the soldiers were reclining upon the
ground smoking, but a half-dozen of them, evidently officers, were gathered in a circle, conversing earnestly.
" They are holding a council of war!" cried
Alano, after he had strained his ears to catch
what was being said. " They are waiting for
Captain Crabo to join them with another detachment, and then they are to aid some others
in surrounding the left wing of General Garcia's
army, which is encamped in the valley on the
other side of this mountain."




CHAPTER XI.


A WILD RIDE ON HORSEBACK.
I was of course deeply interested in what
Alano had to say, and my heart gave a sudden
leap when he mentioned that General Garcia's
wing of the rebel army was so close at hand.
Instantly I thought of my father. Was he in
the ranks?
I was about to speak when my Cuban chum
motioned me to silence. As cautiously as a cat
he drew closer to the edge of the cliff, throwing
himself flat on his face as he made the movement. I followed suit, knowing full well that I
would scarcely be able to understand the council of war being held below, but anxious to get
a better view of the soldiery we now considered
our enemies..
Evidently the Spanish officers did not imagine
any outsiders were near, for they spoke rather
loudly, while each gesticulated a good deal in his
own particular manner. Ten minutes passed,
and then there came a pause. Alano touched
me on the arm, and, as silently as we had ad74




A WILD RIDE ON HORSEBACK.


75


vanced, we turned and retreated into the brush
back of the cliff.
"I have their plans well in mind, Mark," he
whispered. " Oh, if only we could find General
Garcia and tell him all!"
" Did you find out just where the general is
located?"
"Pretty nearly-in that direction "-my Cuban chum waved his hand. " There is a ravine
to cross and then a pass through the mountains.
I believe the rebels now hold the pass, but the
Spaniards mean to gain the high ground and
hem them in. If they do that, my people will
be slaughtered like cattle in a pen."
"And supposing our fathers are with the
rebels? " I put in quickly.
" Yes, I was thinking of that, Mark. We had
best     Hist!"
Alano stopped short. From a distance came
the sounds of horses' hoofs.
" It must be Captain Crabo," said Alano.
"Lay low!"
We drew still further into the brush and
waited.' Nearer and nearer came the horses.
Then came a shout and a sudden halting.
" They've challenged the newcomers," whispered Alano, as we heard the words " Quien
va' "
Evidently the reply was satisfactory, for in a




WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


moment more the new arrivals had joined the
force under the cliff. Looking from our shelter,
we saw that Captain Crabo was the same individual who had had us locked up in the smokehouse some days previously.
"We don't want him to lay hands on us
again," I said, and Alano smiled grimly. "Why
not get out at once?" I went on.
"Wait till I hear what Captain Crabo has to
say, Mark. He may bring news, and we want
to learn as much as we can. If they-"
My Cuban chum was forced to stop speaking,
for with a quick movement I had placed a warning hand over his mouth. Some of the soldiers
who had been resting were coming up the
cliff, evidently to take a look at the surroundings.
"Come!" I whispered into Alano's ear, and
turned to retreat. He followed me, and a distance of fifty feet was covered through the
undergrowth, when we found ourselves at the
edge of another cliff and actually hemmed in by
the advancing men.
What were we to do? It was a serious question, and one to be decided instantly. Already
the foremost of the men was less than two rods
behind us. We looked around for a place to
hide, but none was at hand. Then Alano gave
a cry.




A WILD RIDE ON HORSEBACK.


77


"They are coming from the other direction
too! We are lost!"
Scarcely had the words left his lips than we
heard a yell from two of the Spanish soldiers.
We were discovered, and all thoughts of further
concealment in that hemmed-in spot were out
of the question.
Hardly realizing what I was doing in my agitated frame of mind, I 'ran down to the very edge
of the cliff at a point about a hundred and fifty
feet above where the soldiers were encamped.
Looking down I discovered a series of crags
leading to the highway below. Here a score or
more of horses were tethered to a mahogany
tree.
"Come, it's our only chance! " I ejaculated,
and leaped for the nearest crag below me at the
imminent peril of tumbling and breaking my
neck.
Down I went, jumping and rolling from one
projection of rocks to another, with Alano but
a short distance behind me. I heard a command to stop, and then a shot, but paid no heed.
With a final bump I reached the foot of the cliff,
less than a dozen feet from where the horses
were standing.
My sudden appearance startled several of the
animals, and they plunged and broke their
halters. But they did not run away, and




78


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


the fact that they were loose gave me another
idea.
"The horses, Alano! Let us ride away on
them!"
" Yes! yes!" he replied, and in a twinkle we
had secured two of the nearest of the animals.
We leaped into the saddle just as a second shot
rang out. The bullet struck my horse a glancing blow on the flank, and off he tore up the
highway as though dug with a spur.
I heard Alano coming behind me, but did not
dare look back, for the highway was a poor one
and my beast needed all of my attention. Fortunately, riding had been taught to me at Broxville Military Academy, so I felt fairly well at
home. in the saddle. Gathering up the reins, I
sent the animal along at all the speed at his command. The shouting behind continued, but no
more shots were fired, for the trees now hid both
of us from our pursuers.
" That was a clever move," cried Alano, as he
presently ranged up beside me. "We have
escaped them and provided ourselves with as
good horses as one would wish to ride."
"They will certainly follow us, Alano,. We
must see if we can't throw them off the trail."
" I see no side road."
" Well, come on until we strike something."
I answered.




A WILD RIDE ON HORSEBACKA.


79


Forward we went, making both horses do
their best. Half a mile was covered and we
forded a small mountain torrent. As the animals paused to stick their noses into the cooling
liquid, we listened and heard the Spaniards coming after us on the remainder of the animals.
"Quick!" cried Alano. "They have lost no
time in following."
"There is a side road, leading into the mountains," I returned. "We had better take that."
We turned off as I had advised, and it was not
long before another half-mile was covered.
Having reached an elevation of several hundred
feet, the road became broad and tolerably level,
and we went on faster than ever.
"We ought to be getting close to the rebel
camp," said Alano, a while later. "By the
looks of the country we should be near that pass
the rebels are supposed to be occupying."
"I doubt if it is long before we. strike some of
your people now," I answered. "But supposing we slack up a bit? The horses can't stand
this strain in the heat."
"Oh, they are used to the heat. But we can
take it easier if you say so. There isn't any use
of our riding ourselves sore the first day in the
saddle."
"I suppose they can put us down for horse
thieves if they want to."




8o


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"Not much, Mark.    Why, it's more than
likely these horses were confiscated from my
countrymen in the first place."
Thus conversing, we galloped along for half
a mile further. Then, as Alano paused to readjust his horse's saddle, I fancied I heard some
suspicious sounds behind us, and drew my
chum's attention to them.
"Horses!" cried Alano. "They must have
found our trail, and are coming after us! Come
ahead, or we'll be captured after all!"
Once more we urged our animals forward.
But not for long. Coming to a turn in the
road, Alano yelled to me to halt, and pointed
ahead.
I gave a groan as I looked.  A mountain
stream, all of twelve feet wide and twice as deep,
crossed the roadway. There had been a rude
bridge of tree trunks, but this was torn away,
and thus our further retreat seemed hopelessly
cut off.




CHAPTER XII


A DARING LEAP.
For the moment neither Alano nor myself
spoke as we gazed at the gap before us. Then
I gave a groan which seemed to come from my
very soul.
"We are lost, Alano! They have hemmed
us in!"
My Cuban chum did not answer. Instead,
he gazed to the right and the left.
But this was useless. On our right was a
stony undergrowth impossible to traverse, on
the left a thick jungle leading down into what
looked like a bottomless morass.
The hoof-strokes of the pursuing horses
sounded nearer, and I expected every moment
to see the band of Spanish cavalrymen dash
into sight, with drawn arms, ready to shoot or
cut us down. Alano must have been thinking
the same, for I saw him grate his teeth hard.
"Mark!" he cried suddenly. "Come, it's
our only hope."
"What?"
" To cross the stream."
"But how? We can't jump it."
8x




WHEW SANTIAGO FELL.
WHENi SA NTIA GO FEL.


"We'll make the horses do it. Be quick, or
it will be too late. Watch me. I am certain
these horses know how to do the trick."
He rode back a distance of two hundred feet.
Then on he came, like the wind, his animal well
in hand. A cry of command, and the horse rose
in the air and went over the chasm like a bird.
Could I do as well? There was no time left
to speculate on the subject. Our pursuers were
but just around the turn. I rode back as Alano
had done and started to make the leap.
"Hate!"   It was the cry of Captain Crabo,
who was in the lead of the oncoming cavalrymen. I paid no attention. The edge. of the
mountain stream was reached, and I cried to my
horse to move forward.
But he was stubborn, and made a balk for
which I was hardly prepared. Down went his
front feet against a bit of sharp rock, and the
shock threw me over his head and directly into
the middle of the mountain torrent!
I heard Alano give a cry of alarm, and then
the waters closed over my head. Down and
down I went, for at this point the water was at
least fifteen feet deep. The sunlight was shut
out as I passed under several overhanging rocks,
only to bump up against the roots of a tree,
where the water rushed rapidly in several directions.




A DARING LEAP.


83


Dazed to such an extent that I hardly knew
what I was doing, I caught at the roots, held
fast, and drew my head above the surface of the
stream. I was out of sight of those who were
after me, and prudently concluded to remain
where I was.
My hiding-place was far from agreeable. The
tree roots were slimy, and I imagined they must
be the home of water snakes. Just over my
head was a mass of soil over which crawled innumerable black beetles, some as big as a man's
thumb. Within reach of my hand, a large
green-and-white frog blinked at me in amazement.
The shouts of the Spaniards reached me in a
muffled way, as I heard them dismount and
tramp up and down the torrent in search of me.
I expected every moment to be discovered, but
that moment did not come, and quarter of an
hour passed.
By this time I could scarcely hold on longer
to the tree roots. I listened as well as I could,
and, hearing no sound, let go my hold. The
rush of water speedily carried me fifteen feet
further down the stream, and here I caught hold
of some bushes and pulled myself up on the
bank and out of sight.
I was now on the same side to which Alano
had crossed, and I soon discovered that several




84


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


of the Spaniards had also come over, although
on foot. They were in the neighborhood of the
highway, and I could make out enough of their
talk to know they were deploring their luck in
not being able to find me and stop my Cuban
chum.
Feeling that it would be foolhardy to leave
my place of concealment for some time to come,
I endeavored to make myself as comfortable as
possible under the shelter of a clump of wild
orange trees. These were full of the temptinglooking fruit, which, however, I found on sampling was so bitter it fairly puckered my mouth.
But in my bag were some biscuits, and, as these
were thoroughly water-soaked, I ate several
with a relish.
Twice did the Spaniards pass within fifty feet
of my hiding-place, and each time I felt like giving myself up for lost. They remained in the
vicinity until nearly sundown, and then withdrew in the direction from whence they had
come, growling volubly among themselves over
their ill-luck.
With cautious steps I left the clump of wild
oranges, and hurried to the highway. As Alano
was on horseback, I felt he must have kept to
the road. How far he had gone there was no
telling, although it must be several miles if not
much further.




A DARING LEAP.


85


While at the military academy we boys had,
like many other school fellows, adopted a
peculiar class whistle. This I felt certain Alano
would remember well, and, at the risk of being
spotted, I emitted the whistle with all the
strength of my lungs, not once, but half a dozen
times.
I listened intently, but no answer came back;
and, satisfied that my chum was not within hearing, I went on my way, up the road, keeping an
eye open for any enemy who might be in ambush.
It was now growing dark, and I felt that in
another half-hour night would be upon me. To
be alone in that wilderness was not pleasant,
but just then there appeared to be no help
for it.
At the distance of half a mile I stopped again
to whistle.  While I was listening intently I
fancied I heard a rustle among the trees to my
right. I instantly dove out of sight behind
some brush, but the noise did not continue, and
I concluded it must have been made by some
bird.
Presently the road took another turn and
made a descent into a canyon fromn which the
light of day had long since fled. I hesitated and
looked forward. Certainly the prospect was
not an inviting one. But to turn back I felt




86         WHEN SANTIA GO FELL.
would be foolish, so I went on, although more
cautiously than ever.
At the bottom of the hollow was a bit of
muddy ground, over which a mass of cut brush
had been thrown, probably to make the passage
safer for man and beast. I had just stepped on
this brush when something whizzed through the
air and encircled my neck. Before I could save
myself, I was jerked backward and felt a rawhide lasso cutting into my windpipe. I caught
hold of the rawhide and tried to rise, but several
forms arose otlt of the surrounding gloom and
fell upon me, bearing me to the earth.




CHAPTER XIII.


FRIENDS IN NEED.
I speedily found that my enemies were five in
number; and, as they were all tall and powerful
men, to struggle against them would have been
foolhardy.
" Don't choke me-I give in," I gasped, and
then the pressure on my neck was relieved.
" Americano," I heard one of the fellows mutter. "No talk, you!" he hissed into my ear,
and flourished a knife before my eyes to emphasize his words.
I shut my mouth, to signify that I agreed, and
then I was allowed to rise, and in a twinkle my
hands were tied behind my back. Two of the
men conducted me away from the spot, while
a third followed us. The other two men remained on guard at the highway.
I wondered if Alano had been captured, but
just then did not give the subject much thought.
There was no telling whether the men were
Spanish or Cuban sympathizers; but, no matter
to what side they belonged, I noted with a shud87




88


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


der that they were a decidedly tough class of
citizens.
Leaving the highway, we made our way along
a rocky course leading to a small clearing at the
top of a plateau. Back of the clearing was a
rude hut, set in a grove of sapodilla trees.
Around the hut half a dozen dirty soldiers were
lying, who leaped up at our approach. An earnest conversation in a Spanish patois followed,
and then one of the men spoke to me in
Spanish.
"No speak Spanish, eh?" he growled, in return to my assertion to that effect. "Who you
be? Where you go to?"
"I am on my way to Guantanamo, to join my
father," I said, and made as much of an explanation as I deemed necessary.
The soldiers glared suspiciously at me when
my words were translated to them.   Then,
without ceremony, they began to search me,
taking all I had of value from me.
"You are not going to rob me, I trust," I
said, and the man who could speak English
laughed coarsely.
"We take all we get," he replied. "All right
in war, amigo."
I was not his amigo, or friend, but I was forced
to submit; and, even as it was, I was thankful
my life had been spared, for they were a cruel



FRIENDS IN NEED.


89


looking band, with less of the soldier than the
bandit about them.
When I saw a chance, I started in to question
them concerning Alano, but the nearest fellow,
with a flat blow from his dirty hand, stopped me.
"No talk!" growled he who could speak
English.
After this I said no more, but from where I
had been placed, at the rear of the hot and illventilated hut, I watched the men narrowly and
tried to understand what they were talking
about. I heard General Garcia mentioned and
also the word " machete," the name of the long,
deadly knives most of the Cuban soldiers
carried.
At last the men around the hut began to grow
sleepy, and one after another sought a suitable
spot and threw himself down to rest. The
youngest of the party, a fellow not over twenty,
was left on guard.
With his pistol in his lap, this guard sat on a
flat rock, rolling cigarette after cigarette and
smoking them. From my position in the hut
I could just catch his outline, and I watched him
eagerly. I pretended to go to sleep, but I 'was
very wide awake.
It must have been well past midnight, and I
was giving up in despair, when the last of the
cigarettes went out and the guard's head fell




9o


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


forward on his breast. In the meantime I had
been silently working at the rawhide which
bound my hands. In my efforts my wrists were
cut not a little, but at last my hands were free.
Feeling that the guard and the others were all
asleep, I arose as silently as a shadow. Several
of my captors lay between me and the entrance
of the hut, and it was with extreme caution that
I stepped over them. The last man sighed
heavily and turned over just as I went by, and
with my heart in my throat I leaped out into the
open.
But he did not awaken, nor did the guard
notice my appearance. As I passed the latter
I saw something shining on the ground. It
was the pistol, which had slipped from the
guard's lap. I hesitated only an instant, then
picked it up and glided onward to the end of the
plateau.
"Halte!" The command, coming so suddenly, was enough to startle anybody, and I
leaped back several feet. A man had appeared
before me, one of the fellows left to guard the
highway below. Following the command came
an alarm in Spanish.
On the instant the camp was in commotion.
The guard was the first to awaken, and his
anger when he found his pistol gone was very
great. While he was searching for his weapon,




"GENERALGRM    H GALLNTSOLIER WHOHA FOUGHT
so iiFF IN TIOCUSE OFI0 FUBASS 1101r U




I
I
I
I
I
I




FRIENDS IN NEED.


91


the others poured from the hut and ran toward
me, leveling their weapons as they came.
I was caught between two fires, for the man
before me also had his pistol raised, and I did
not know what to do. Then, to avoid being
struck, and not wishing to shed blood, I leaped
toward some near-by bushes.
Bang! crack! A musket and a pistol went off
almost simultaneously, and I heard a clipping
sound through the trees. Just as my former
captors turned to follow me into the thicket,
there came another shot from down in the hollow of the highway.
"Cuba libre!" I heard echo upon several
sides, and a rattle of musketry followed. From
a dozen spots in the hollow I saw the long
flashes of fire, and I at once knew that a portion
of the Cuban army was at hand and had surprised the Spanish sympathizers who were attempting to hold the highway.
The moment the battle started below the
plateau those who had held me captive gave
up pursuing me, and rushed back to the hut to
obtain their entire belongings-feeling, doubtless, that the region would soon get too hot to
hold them. I watched them turn away with
keen satisfaction, and remained where I was, the
guard's pistol still in my possession.
For fully half an hour the firing kept up, and




92


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


then came a rush along the highway and again
I heard the cry of "Cuba libre! " raised, showing that the rebels were getting the best of the
encounter and had driven the Spanish soldiers
from their hiding-places. On went one body of
men after the other down the road, until the
sounds of their voices and firearms were almost
lost in the distance.
Certain that the plateau was now absolutely
deserted, I ran back to the hut and found my
valise, which had been thrown in a corner. My
pistol was gone, but as I had another, fully
loaded and just as good, I did not mind this.
With my satchel over my shoulder, I crawled
cautiously down to the highway and hurried in
the direction I had before been pursuing.
I had just reached the opposite side of the
hollow, where all was pitch dark, on account of
the shade, when a feeble moan came to my ears.
Moving silently in the direction, I found a negro
lying on his back, a fearful wound in his
shoulder.
The man could speak nothing but a Cuban
patois, yet I understood that he was in pain and
desired his shoulder bound up. Wetting my
handkerchief in the water at the hollow, I
washed the wound as best I could and tied it up
with strips of muslin torn from the sleeve of his
ragged shirt and my own shirt sleeve. For this,




FRIENDS IN NEED.


93


I could note by his manner, that he was extremely grateful.
"A mnericano? " he said.
"Yes," I replied.
Then he asked me several other questions,
from which I made out that he wanted to know
which side I was on. Feeling certain I was safe,.
I said "Cuba," and he smiled faintly.
"I want to find General Garcia," I continued,
emphasizing the name. Then I tapped my
breast, said General Garcia again, and pointed
off with my finger.
He nodded and attempted to sit up. With
his bony finger he pointed up the highway, and
circled his finger to the northwest to signify I
was to turn off in that direction. Then he
caught me by the arm and whispered "Maysi"
into my ear-the password.
Feeling I could do no more for him at present,
I went on, and at the distance of an eighth of a
mile came to a side road, which was the one he
had described to me. It was narrow and rocky,
and I had not proceeded over two hundred feet
in the direction when a soldier leaped out
from behind a banana tree and presented his
gun.
" Halte!" he cried.
"Maysi!" I called promptly.
The gun was lowered, and, seeing I was but a




94


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


boy, the guard smiled and murmured " Amerincanof?" to which I nodded.
" General Garcia," I said, and tapped my
breast to signify I wished to see the great Cuban
leader.
Without a word the guard led me on a distance of a hundred feet and called another soldier. A short talk ensued, and the second man
motioned me to follow him through a trail in the
brush. We went on for ten minutes, then came
to a clearing hemmed in by a cliff and several
high rocks.
Here were over a hundred soldiers on foot
and twice as many on horseback. In the midst
of the latter was the Cuban general I had asked
to see-the gallant soldier who had fought so
hard in the cause of Cuban liberty.




CHAPTER XIV.


GENERAL CALIXTO GARCIA.
My first view of General Calixto Garcia was a
disappointing one. For some reason, probably
from the reports I had heard concerning his
bravery, I had expected to see a man of great
proportions and commanding aspect. Instead,
I saw an elderly gentleman of fair figure, with
mild eyes and almost white mustache and beard,
the latter trimmed close. But the eyes, though
mild, were searching, and as he turned them
upon me I felt he was reading me through and
through.
He was evidently surprised to see a boy, and
an American at that. He spoke but little English, but an interpreter was close at hand, who
immediately demanded to know who I was,
where I had come from, and what I wanted.
"My name is Mark Carter, and I have journeyed all the way from Santiago de Cuba," I replied. "I heard that my father and his friend,
Sefior Guerez, had joined General Garcia's
forces."
"You are Sefnor Carter's son!" exclaimed the
95




96


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


Cuban officer, and turned quickly to General
Garcia. The two conversed for several minutes,
and then the under-officer turned again to me.
"General Garcia bids you welcome," he said,
and at the same time the great Cuban leader
smiled and extended his hand, which I found as
hard and horny as that of any tiller of the soil.
"He knows your father and Senor Guerez
well."
"And where are they now?" I asked quickly.
"They were with the army two days ago, but
both went off to escort the ladies of Seflor Guerez' family to a place of safety. The sefior was
going to take his wife and daughters to an old
convent up a river some miles from here."
This was rather disheartening news, yet I had
to be content. I asked if my father was well.
"Very well, although hardly able to walk, on
account of a leg he broke some time ago."
"And have you seen Alano Guerez? He is
about my own age, and was with me up to this
morning," I went on, and briefly related my adventures on the road, to which the officer listened with much interest.
"We have seen nothing of him," was the
reply I received. "But he may be somewhere
around here."
The officer wished to know about the Spanish
detachment we had met, and I told him, all I




GENERAL CALIXTO GARCIA.


97


knew, which was not much, as I had not understood the Spanish spoken and Alano had not
interpreted it for me. But even the little I had
to say seemed to be highly important, and the
officer immediately reported the condition of
affairs to General Garcia.
By this time some of the soldiers who had
taken part in the fight at the foot of the plateau
came back, bringing with them several wounded
men, including the negro whose wound I had
bound up. The disabled ones were placed in a
temporary hospital, which already sheltered a
dozen others, and General Garcia rode off with
his horsemen, leaving the foot soldiers to spread
out along the southeastern slope of the mountain.
Left to myself, I hardly knew what to do. A
black, who could speak a few words of
"Englis'," told me I could go where I wanted,
but must look out for a shot from the enemy;
and I wandered over to the hospital and to the
side of the fellow I had formerly assisted.
The hospital, so called, consisted of nothing
more than a square of canvas stretched over the
tops of a number of stunted trees. From one
tree to another hammocks, made of native grass,
were slung, and in these, and on piles of brush
on the ground, rested the wounded ones. Only
one regular doctor was in attendance, and as his




98


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


surgical skill and instruments were both limited,
the sufferings of the poor fellows were indeed
great.
"Him brudder me-you help him," said the
black who spoke " Englis'," as he pointed to the
fellow whose wound I had dressed. "Jorge
Nullus no forget you-verra good you."
"Is your name Jorge Nullus?"
"Yeas, sefior-him brudder Christoval."
" Where did you learn English? "
"Me in Florida once-dree year ago-stay
seex months-no like him there-too hard
work," and Jorge Nullus shrugged his shoulders. "You verra nice leetle man, sefnor," and
he smiled broadly at his open compliment.
"Do you know Senior Guerez?" I questioned
quickly.
" Me hear of him-dat's all."
" Do you know where the old convent on the
river is? " I continued.
The Cuban nodded. " Yeas-been dare many
times-bring 'taters, onions, to Father Anuncio."
" Could you take me there-if General Garcia
would let you go?"
"Yeas, senor. But Spaniards all aroundmaybe shoot-bang!-dead," and he pointed to
his wounded brother. The brother demanded
to know what we were talking about, and the




GENERAL CALIXTO GARCIA.


99


two conversed for several minutes. Then Jorge
turned again to me.
" Christoval say me take you; you verra
good leetle man, seinor. We go now, you say
go."
" Will you be allowed to go? "
" Yeas-General Garcia no stop me-he
know me all right," and the negro grinned and
showed his teeth.
I was tempted to start at once, but decided to
wait until morning, in the hope of finding
Alano. In spite of the fact that I knew my
chum would.be doubly cautious, now we were
separated, I felt decidedly anxious about him.
The Spanish troops were on every side, and the
soldiers would not hesitate to shoot him down
should they learn who he was.
The night passed in comparative quietness.
Toward morning we heard distant firing to the
northwest, and at five o'clock a messenger
dashed into camp with the order to move on to
the next mountain, a distance of two miles.
Through Jorge I learned that the Spaniards had
been outwitted and driven back to the place
from whence they had come.
There now seemed nothing for me to do but
to push on to the convent on the river, in the
hope of there joining my father. We were, so
I. was told, but a few miles from Guantanamo,




100


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


but the route to the convent would not take us
near the town.
Jorge's brother felt much better, so the negro
went off with a light heart, especially after I had
made it plain to him that my father would reward him for any trouble he took on my account. I told him about Alano, and before
leaving camp we walked around among the sentries in the hope of gaining some information
concerning him. But it was all useless.
" Maybe he went on to Father Anuncio's,"
said my negro guide, and this gave me a grain
of comfort.
The soldiers arfd Jorge and myself left the
camp at about the same time, but we did not
take the same road, and soon my guide and I
found ourselves on a lonely mountain trail overlooking a valley thick with brush and trees.
The sun shone brightly, but the air was clear
and there was a fine breeze blowing, and this
made it much cooler than it would otherwise
have been.
I missed the horse, and wondered if Alano still
had the animal he had captured. It might be
possible he had ridden straight on to Guantanamo, and was now bound from there up the
river. If that was so, we might meet on the
river road.
"Werry bad road now," said Jorge, as we




IOI


GENERAL CALIXTO GARCIA.


came to a halt on the mountain side. "Be careful how you step, Sefior Mark."
He pointed ahead, to where a narrow trail led
around a sharp turn. Here the way was rocky
and sloped dangerously toward the valley. He
went on ahead, and I followed close at his heels.
"No horse come dis way," observed Jorge, as
he came to another turn. "Give me your hand
-dis way. Now den, jump!"
We had reached a spot where a tiny mountain
stream had washed away a portion of the trail.
I took his hand, and we prepared to take the
leap.
Just then the near-by crack of a rifle rang out
on the morning air. Whether or not the shot
was intended for us I cannot say, but the sound
startled me greatly and I stumbled and fell.
Jorge tried to grab me, but failed, and down I
shot head first into the trees and bushes growing
twenty feet below the trail!




CHAPTER XV.


A PRISONER OF WAR.
By instinct more than reason, I put out both
hands as I fell, and this movement saved me
from a severe blow on the head. My hands
crashed through the branches of a tree, bumped
up against the trunk, and then I bounced off
into the midst of a clump of brush and wild
peppers.
"Hi, yah! " I heard Jorge cry out, but from
my present position I could not see him. "Is
you killed?" he went on.
"No, but I'm pretty well shook up and
scratched up," I answered.
"Take care-somebody shoot," he went on.
I concluded I was pretty well out of sight, and
I kept quiet and tried to get back the breath
which had been completely knocked out of me.
A few minutes later I heard a crashing through
the brush, and my guide stood beside me.
"Lucky you no killed," he observed. "Bad
spot dat."
He searched around and soon found a hollow
containing some water, with which I bathed the
scratches on my face and hands. In the mean



A PRISONER OF WAR.


103


time he gazed around anxiously in the direction
from which he imagined the shot had come.
"Maybe no shoot at. us," he said, quarter of
an hour later. "Me find out."
With his ever-ready machete he cut down a
young tree and trimmed the top branches off,
leaving the stumps sticking out about six inches
on every side. On the top of the tree he stuck
his hat, and then, having no coat, asked me for
mine, which he buttoned about the tree a short
distance under the hat, placing a fluttering
handkerchief between the two.
With this rude dummy, or scarecrow, he
crawled up the side of the gully until almost on
a level with the trail. Then he hoisted the figure
up cautiously and moved it forward.
No shot was fired, and after waiting a bit
Jorge grew bolder and climbed up to the trail
himself. Here he spent a long time in viewing
the surroundings, and finally called to me.
"Him no shoot at us. Maybe only hunter.
Come up."
Not without some misgivings, I followed
directions. To gain the trail again was no easy
matter, but he helped me by lowering the end of
the tree and pulling me up. Once more we proceeded on our way, but with eyes and ears on
guard in case anybody in the shape of an enemy
should appear.




1o4


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


By noon Jorge calculated we had covered
eight miles, which was considered a good distance through the mountains, and I was glad
enough to sit down in a convenient hollow and
rest. He had brought along a good stock of
provisions, with which the rebel camp had happened to be liberally provided, and we made a
meal of bread, crackers, and cold meat, washed
down with black coffee, cooked over a fire of
dead and dried grass.
"We past the worst of the road now," remarked Jorge, as we again moved on. "Easy
walkin' by sundown."
He was right, for about four o'clock we struck
an opening among the mountains where there
was a broad and well-defined road leading past
several plantations. The plantations were occupied by a number of Cubans and blacks, who
eyed me curiously and called out queries to
Jorge, who answered them cheerfully.
The plantations left behind, we crossed a
brook which my guide said ran into the river,
and took to a path running along a belt of oak
and ebony trees, with here and there a clump of
plantains. We had gone but a short distance
when we crossed another trail, and Jorge called
a halt and pointed to the soft ground.
The hoofprints of half a dozen horses were
plainly visible, and as they were still fresh we




A PRISONER OF WAR.


oS5


concluded they had been made that very day,
and perhaps that afternoon.
"Who do you think the horsemen are,
Jorge?" I asked.
He shrugged his shoulders.
" Can't say-maybe soon tell-me see," and
on he went, with his eyes bent on the ground.
For my part, I thought it best to keep a watch
to the right and the left. We went on slowly
until the evening shadows began to fall. Then
Jorge was about to speak, when I motioned him
to be silent.
"There is something moving in yonder
brush," I said, pointing with my hand.  I
think I saw a horse."
We left the road and proceeded in the direction, moving along slowly and silently. I had
been right; there was not one horse, but half a
dozen, tethered to several stunted trees.
No human beings were present, but from al
distance we presently heard the murmur of
voices, and a minute later two Spanish soldiers
came into view. Jorge drew his pistol, but I
restrained him.
The soldiers had evidently come up to see if
the horses were still safe. Satisfied on this
point, one passed to the other a roll of tobacco
for a bite, and both began to converse in a low
but earnest tone.




xo6


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


Jorge listened; and, as the talk ran on, his face
grew dark and full of hatred. The backs of the
two Spaniards were toward us, and my guide
drew his machete and motioned as if to stab
them both.
I shook my head, horrified at the very
thought. This did not suit Jorge, and he drew
me back where we might talk without being
overheard.
" What is the use of attacking them? " I said.
" Let us be on our way."
"Them men fight General Garcia's menmaybe hurt my brudder," grunted Jorge wrathfully. "They say they have prisoner-kill him
soon."
"A prisoner? "
" Yes."
"Where?"
"At camp down by river. They kill udder
prisoner, now rob dis one an' kill too. Bad men
-no good soldiers."
I agreed with him on this point. Yet I was, not satisfied that he should go back and attack
the pair while they were off their guard.
" It would not be fair," I said,-" and, besides,
the noise may bring more soldiers down upon
us. I wish we could do something for their
prisoner, whoever he is."
We talked the matter over, and, seeing the




A PRISONER OF WAR.


1o0


soldiers depart, concluded to follow them. We
proceeded as silently as two shadows, and during the walk Jorge overheard one soldier tell the
other that the prisoner was to be shot at sunrise.
A turn in the path brought us to a broad and
roughly flowing stream. Here a temporary
camp had been pitched. Half a dozen dirtylooking Spaniards were lolling on the ground,
smoking and playing cards. From their talk
Jorge said they were waiting for some of their
former comrades to join them, when all were to
travel back to where the Spanish commander,
Captain Campona, had been left.
"There ees the prisoner," said Jorge, in a
whisper, and pointed along the river shore to
where rested a decaying tree, half in and half out
of the water. The prisoner was strapped with
rawhides to one of the tree branches, and it was
-my chum Alanol




CHAPTER XVI.


A RESCUE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
Mere words cannot express my astonishment
and alarm when I saw who the prisoner tied to
the tree was. As I gazed at Alano my heart
leaped into my throat, and like lightning I remembered what Jorge had told me the Spaniards had said, that the prisoner was to be shot
at sunrise.
Alano shot! I felt an icy chill creep over
me. My own chum! No, no, it must not be!
In my excitement I almost cried aloud. Noting how strangely I was affected, my guide
placed his hand over my mouth and drew me
back into a thicket.
" It is Alano Guerez!" I whispered, as soon
as I was calm enough to speak-" Sefior Guerez' son!"
"Ah, yah! " ejaculated Jorge. "I see he is
but a boy. Perros! [Dogs!]"
"We must save Alano," I went on. "If he
was shot, I-I would never forgive myself."
Jorge shrugged his shoulders. "How?" he
asked laconically. "Too many for us."
MO




A RESCUE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.


Io9


"Perhaps we can do something when it
grows darker."
The guide drew down the corners of his
mouth. Then, as he gazed at the river, his big
black eyes brightened.
"Yeas, when it is darker we try. But must
be careful."
"Perhaps we.can get to him by the way of
the river."
Jorge smiled grimly. Catching me by the
arm he led me along the bank, overgrown with
grass and rushes. Not far away was something
that looked like a half-submerged log covered
with mud. Taking a stone he threw it, and the
"log" roused up and flopped angrily into the
stream.
"Alligators! " I cried, with a shiver. " No,
we won't be able to get to him. by way of the
river. But we must do something."
"We cross river, and I tell you what we do,"
replied my guide.
Crossing was not an easy matter, as neither of
us cared to attempt swimming or fording with
alligators in the vicinity. But by passing along
the bank we presently discovered a spot where
half a dozen rocks afforded a footing, and over
we went in the semi-darkness, for the sun was
now setting.
As we hurried down the course of the stream




II0


WHtEN SANTIAGO FELL.


again, Jorge cut several cedar and pine branches
which appeared to be particularly dry. Then
he handed me a number of matches, of which,
fortunately, he had an entire box.
"We will put one pile of branches here," he
said, "and another further down, and one further yet. Den I go back to camp. You watch
tree over there. When you see light wait few
minutes, den light all dree fires."
"But how will that help us?"
"Soldiers see fires, want to know who is dar
-don't watch Alano-me go in and help him.
After you make fires you run back to where we
cross on stones."
Jorge's plan was not particularly clear to me,
yet I agreed to it, and off he sped in the gloom.
Left to myself, I made my way cautiously to the
water's edge, there to await the signal he had
mentioned.
It was a hot night and the air was filled with
myriads of mosquitoes, gnats, flies, and other
pests. From the woods behind me came the
occasional cry of a night bird, otherwise all was
silent. Frogs as big as one's two hands sat on
the rocks near by, on the watch for anything in
the shape of a meal which might come their
way.
But bad as the pests around me were, I gave
them scant consideration. My whole mind was




A RESCUE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.


I I I


concentrated upon Alano and what Jorge proposed to do. Silently I prayed to Heaven that
the guide might be successful in rescuing my
chum.
About half an hour went by,-it seemed an
extra long wait to me,-when suddenly I saw
a flash of fire, in the very top of a tree growing
behind the Spaniards' camp. The flash lasted
but a second, then died out instantly.
Arising from my seat, I ran to the furthest pile
of boughs and waited while I mentally counted
off a hundred and eighty seconds, three minutes.
Then I struck a match, ignited the heaped-up
mass, and ran to the second pile.
In less than ten minutes the three fires, situated about three hundred feet apart, were burning fiercely, and then I ran at topmost speed for
the spot where the river had been crossed. I
had just reached the locality when I heard a
shout ring out, followed by two musket shots.
A painful, anxious two minutes followed.
Were Alano and Jorge safe? was the question I
asked myself. I strained my eyes to pierce the
gloom which hung like a pall over the water.
Footsteps on the rocks greeted my ears.
Someone was coming, someone with a heavy
burden on his back. Once or twice the approaching person slipped on the rocks and I
heard a low cry of warning.




112


WHEN SANTA GO FELL.


"Mark!"
It was the voice of Alano, and my heart gave
a joyful bound. In another second my Cuban
chum appeared in view, carrying on his manly
back the form of Jorge.
" Alano," I ejaculated excitedly, " what is
the matter with him? "
" He has been shot in the leg," was the reply.
"Come on, help me carry him and get to cover.
I am afraid they are on my track! "
"Run into the woods!" groaned Jorge.
"Den we take to trees-dat's best."
As Alano was almost exhausted, I insisted
that the guide be transferred to my back, and
this was speedily done, and on we went, away
from the river and directly into the forest. Of
course, with such a burden I could not go far,
and scarcely a hundred yards were traversed
when I came to a halt, at the foot of a giant mahogany tree.
Not without a good deal of difficulty Jorge
was raised up into the branches of the tree, and
we followed.
"Still now and listen!" cried Jorge, with a
half-suppressed groan.
With strained ears we sat in the mahogany
tree for fully half an hour without speaking.
We heard the Spaniards cross the river and
move cautiously in the direction of the three




A RESCUE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.


113


fires, and presently they returned to their own
camp.
"Thank fortune, we have outwitted them!"
murmured Alano, the first to break the silence.
" You poor fellow! " he went on to Jorge; " you
saved my life."
He asked about the wound which had been
received, and was surprised, and so was I, to
learn that it was but slight, and what had caused
the guide's inability to run had been a large
thorn which had cut through his shoe into his
heel. By the light of a match the thorn was
forced out with the end of Jorge's machete, and
the foot was bound up in a bit of rag torn from
my coat sleeve, for I must admit that rough
usage had reduced my clothing to a decidedly
dilapidated condition.
As we could not sleep very well in the tree
without hammocks, we descended to the ground
and made our way to a bit of upland, where
there was a small clearing. Here we felt safe
from discovery and lay down to rest. But before retiring Alano thanked Jorge warmly for
what he had done; and thanked me also.
"I thought you were a goner," he said to me.
"How did you escape when the horse balked
and threw you into the stream?"
I told him, and then asked him to relate his
own adventures, which he did. After leaving




114


WIZEN SANT7'IAGO FELL.


me, he said, his horse had taken the bit in his
teeth and gone on for fully a mile. When the
animal had come to a halt he had found himself
on a side trail, with no idea where he was.
His first thought was to return to the stream
where the mishap had occurred, his second to
find General Garcia. But Providence had
willed otherwise, for he had become completely
tangled up in the woods and had wandered
around until nightfall. In the morning he had
mounted his horse and struck a mountain path,
only to fall into the hands of the Spanish soldiers two hours later. These soldiers were a
most villainous lot, and, after robbing him of all
he possessed, had decided to take his life, that
he might not complain of them to their superior officer.
"From what I heard them say," he concluded, " I imagine they have a very strict and
good man for their leader-a man who believes
in carrying on war in the right kind of a way,
and not in such a guerrilla fashion as these chaps
adopt."
"I don't want any war, guerrilla fashion or
otherwise," I said warmly. "I've seen quite
enough of it already."
"And so have I," said my Cuban chum.
Of course he was greatly interested to learn
that his father was on the way to place his




A RESCUE UNDER DIFFICULTIES.


II5


mother and sisters in the old convent on the
river. He said that he had seen the place several years before.
"It is a tumbled-down institution, and Father
Anuncio lives there-a very old and a very pious
man who is both a priest and a doctor. I
shouldn't wonder if the old building has been
fitted up as a sort of fort. You see, the Spaniards couldn't get any cannon to it very well, to
batter it down, and if they didn't have any cannon the Cubans could hold it against them with
ease."
"Unless they. undermined it," I said.
"Our people would be too sharp for that,"
laughed my Cuban chum. "They are in this
fight to win."
Jorge now advised us to quit talking, that our
enemies might not detect us, and we lay down
to rest as previously mentioned. I was utterly
worn out, and it did not take me long to reach
the land of dreams, and my companions quickly
followed suit.
In the morning our guide's heel was rather
sore, yet with true pluck he announced his readiness to go on. A rather slim and hasty breakfast was had, and we set off on a course which
Jorge announced must bring us to the river by
noon.




CHAPTER XVII.


A TREACHEROUS STREAM TO CROSS.
I must mention that now that we had gained
the high ground of the mountains the air was
much cooler and clearer than it was in the valleys, and, consequently, traveling was less fatiguing.
Jorge went ahead, limping rather painfully at
times, but never uttering a word of complaint.
Next to him came Alano, while I brought up in
the rear. It is needless to state that all of us had
our eyes and ears wide open for a sight or sound
of friend or enemy.
The road was a hard one for the most part,
although here and there would be found a hollow in which the mud was from a few inches to
several feet deep. Jorge always warned us of
these spots, but on several occasions I stepped
into the innocent-looking mud only to find that
it was all I could do to get clear of the dark,
glue-like paste.
It was but eleven o'clock when we came in
sight of the river, which at this point was from
thirty to forty feet wide.  Looking up and
xi6




A TREACHEROUS STREAM- TO CROSS. i I7


down the water-course, we saw that it wound its
way in and out among the hills in serpentine
fashion.  The bottom  was mostly of rough
stones, and the stream was barely three to four
feet deep.
" How will we get over?-by swimming?" I
questioned, as we came to a halt on a bank that
was twenty feet above the current.
" Find good place by de rocks," said Jorge.
"Must be careful. Water werry swift."
I could see that he was right by the way the
water dashed against the rocks. Our guide led
the way along the bank for a distance of several
hundred feet and began to climb down by the
aid of the brush and roots.
"That doesn't look pleasant," remarked
Alano, as he hesitated.  " Just look at that
stream!"
Picking up a dry bit of wood he threw it into
the water. In a few seconds it was hurried
along out of our sight.
Nevertheless, we followed Jorge down to the
water's edge. Before us. was a series of rocks,
which, had the stream been a bit lower, would
have afforded an excellent fording-place.
" De river higher dan I think," said our guide.
"You take off boots, hey? "
"That we will," I answered, and soon had my
boots slung around my neck. Alano followed




In8


WHEA SANTIAGO FELL.


my example, and with extreme caution we
waded down and out to the first rock.
"Any alligators? " I cried, coming to a pause.
"No 'gators here," answered Jorge. "Water
too swift-'gators no like dat."
This was comforting news, and on I went
again, until I was up to my knees. The water
felt very refreshing, and I proposed to Alano
that we take advantage of our situation and
have a bath.
" I feel tremendously dirty, and it will brace
us up. We needn't lose more than ten minutes."
My Cuban chum was willing, and we decided
to take our bath from the opposite shore.
Jorge declined to go swimming and said he
would try his luck at fishing, declaring that the
river held some excellent specimens of the finny
tribe.
We had now reached the middle of the stream.
I was two yards behind Alano, while Jorge was
some distance ahead. We were crossing in a
diagonal fashion, as the fording rocks ran in that
direction.
Suddenly Alano muttered an exclamation in
Spanish. "It's mighty swift out here!" he
cried. " Look out, Mark, or  "
He did not finish. I saw him slip and go
down, and the next instant his body was rolling




A TREACHEROUS STREAM TO CROSS. 119


over and over as it was being carried along by
the rushing current.
"Jorge, Alano is gone!" I yelled, and took a
hasty step to catch hold of my chum's coat. The
movement was a fatal one for me, and down I
went precisely as Alano had done. The water
entered my eyes and mouth, and for the moment
I was blinded and bewildered. I felt my feet
touch bottom, but in the deeper water to obtain
a footing was out of the question.
When my head came up I found myself at
Alano's side. I saw he had a slight cut on the
forehead and was completely dazed. I caught
him by the arm until he opened his eyes and instinctively struck out.
"We're lost, Mark!" he spluttered.
"Not yet," I returned. "Strike out for the
shore."
With all the strength at our command we
struck out. To make any headway against that
boiling current was well-nigh impossible, and on
and on we went, until I was almost exhausted.
Alano was about to sink when he gave a cry.
"The bottom!" he announced, and I put
down both feet, to find the stream less than
three feet deep. With our feet down, we were
now able to turn shoreward; and five minutes
later Jorge had us both by the hands and was
helping us out.




I20


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"Well, we wanted a bath and we got it," were
Alano's first words. "Have you had enough,
Mark?"
"More than sufficient," I replied, with a
shudder.  "Ugh, but that is a treacherous
stream, and no mistake!"
"You lucky boys," said Jorge. "Horse get
in and roll over, he lose his life."
We stopped long enough to wring out our
clothing and put on our boots, and then followed
our guide again. Half an hour later we reached
a sheltered spot and here took dinner. By the
time the repast was ended our light summer
suits were almost dried. Luckily, through it all
each of us had retained his hat.
"We haven't had the fish Jorge promised us,"
said Alano, as we were preparing to resume our
journey. "A bit of something baked wouldn't
go bad."
"Fish to-night," said the guide.
"Have you a line and hook, Jorge?" I asked.." Yes, always carry him," he answered; and,
upon further questioning, I learned that to carry
a fishing outfit was as common among the rebels
as to carry a pistol or the ever-ready machete.
They had to supply themselves with food, and it
was often easier and safer to fish in the mountain streams than to shoot game or cattle.
We made a camp that night under the shelter




A TREACHEROUS STREAM TO CROSS. 121


of a clump of grenadillo trees; and, as Jorge had
promised, he tried his luck at fishing in a little
pool under some rocks. He remained at his
lines, two in number, for nearly an hour, and in
that time caught four fish-three of an eel-like
nature and a perch. These were cooked for
supper, and tasted delicious.
"When will we reach the old convent?" I
asked, as we were about to turn in.
"Reach him by to-morrow afternoon maybe;
if no storm come," said Jorge.
"Do you think there will be a storm?"
The guide shrugged his shoulders.
"Maybe-time for storm now."
The fire had been put out as soon as the fish
were baked, that it might not attract the attention of any Spaniards who might be in the
neighborhood. At eight o'clock we turned in,
making our beds on a number of cedar boughs,
which were easy to obtain in this mountainous
locality. We had no coverings but our coats,
but found these sufficient under the shelter of
the grenadillos.
How long I slept I did not know. I awoke
with a start and raised up. All was silent. I
gazed around in the gloom, and saw that Alano
and our guide slumbered soundly.
"I must have been dreaming," I muttered to
myself, when a rustle in the brush behind me




122        WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
caused me to leap to my feet. There was another rustle, and then came what I imagined was
a half-subdued growl of rage.
Fearful that we were on the point of being attacked by some wild animal, I bent over my
companions and shook them.
"Wake up! Wake up!" I cried. "There
are wild beasts about! Quick, and get your
pistols ready!"
And then I looked toward the bushes again,
to see an ugly, hairy head thrust forward and a
pair of glaring eyes fastened full upon met




CHAPTER XVIII.


ALONE.
"What is it?" cried Alano, as he scrambled
to his feet.
"I don't know! " I yelled. "Look! look!"
As I spoke I pulled out my pistol. By this
time Jorge was also aroused.
" Que ha dicho V.? [What did you say?]" he
demanded, leaping up and catching at his machete.
"An animal-a bear, or something! " I went
on. "There he is!"
I raised my pistol, and at the same time our
guide looked as I had directed. I was about to
pull the trigger of my weapon when he stopped
me.
" No shoot! Puerco! " he cried, and gave a
laugh. Leaping forward, he made after the animal, which turned to run away. But Jorge was
too quick for him. Presently there was a grunt
and a prolonged squeal, and then I understood
what my wild beast was-nothing but a wild
pig! In a couple of minutes Jorge came back to
camp dragging the tough little porker by the
123




124


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


hind legs. He had killed the animal in true
butcher's style.
"We have pork to-morrow," he grinned, for
Cuban negroes are as fond of pig meat as their
Northern brothers. Taking a short rope from
one of his pockets, he attached it to the pig's
hind legs and hung the body up on a convenient
tree branch.
The incident had upset my nerves, and for the
balance of the night I slept only by fits and
starts, and I was glad when dawn came and the
rising sun began to gild the tops of the surrounding hills. The sight was a beautiful one,
and I gazed at it for some time, while Jorge prepared some pork chops over a tiny fire he had
kindled.
"We carry what pork we can," he said.
"No use to leave it behind. Father Anuncio
very glad to get pig, so sweet!" and once again
Jorge grinned.  After breakfast the guide cut
up the balance of the animal, wrapped the parts
in wet palm leaves, and gave us each our share
to carry.
Our involuntary bath had done me good, and
I stepped out feeling brighter and better than I
had for several days.  I was becoming acclimated, and I was glad of it, for had I been
taken down with a fever I do not know what I
would have done.




ALONE.               1 25
Alano was as eager as myself to reach the old
convent on the river, and we kept close upon
Jorge's heels as our guide strode off down the
mountain side toward a forest of sapodillas and
plantains.
" I trust we find everybody safe and sound,"
I remarked. " The fact that your father thought
it best to conduct your mother and sisters to
the convent would seem to indicate he was disturbed about their safety."
" I am hoping he did it only to be clear to
join the rebel army," replied Alano. " I hope
both your father and mine are in the ranks, and
that we are allowed to join too."
I did not wish to discourage my Cuban chum
on this point, yet I had my own ideas on the
subject. I was not anxious to join any army,
at least not while both sides to the controversy
were conducting the contest in this guerrillalike fashion. I was quite sure, from what I had
heard from various sources, that up to that date
no regular battle had been fought in the eastern
portion of Cuba, although the western branch
of the rebel army, under General Gomez, was
doing much regular and effective work.
The reasons for this were twofold. In the
first place, General Gomez' forces were composed mainly of white men, while a large portion of the soldiers under General Garcia were




126


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


black.. Nearly all of the Americans who came
to Cuba to fight for Cuban liberty. came by way
of Havana or Jibacoa and-joined General Gomez, and these fellows brought with them a
large stock of arms and ammunition. It was
said that there were three armed men in the
West to every man who had even a pistol in the
East. Many of the negroes were armed only
with their' machetes, which they tied to their
wrists with rawhides, that they might not lose
this sole weapon while on the march or in a
skirmish. To shoot off a cartridge in a pistol
without doing some effective work with it was
considered under General Garcia and his
brother officers almost a crime.
The guerrilla warfare in the mountains I felt
could be kept up for a long time, perhaps indefinitely. The Spanish troops had sought to surround General Garcia a dozen times, only to discover, when too late, that he and his men had
left the vicinity. The Cuban forces moved almost always at night, and often detachments of
soldiers were sent off on swift horses to build
false campfires dozens of miles away from the
real resting-place of the army.
In the valley we crossed through a large
coffee plantation. In the center was a low,
square house with several outbuildings. The
house was closed tightly, and so were the other




ALONEi.


I 2 7


buildings, yet as we drew close I fancied I heard
sounds from within.
I notified Jorge, and a halt ensued. Hardly
had we stopped than the door of the house flew
open and out rushed half a dozen well-dressed
Spanish soldiers.
"Halte!" came the command, but instead of
halting we turned and fled-I in one direction,
and Alano and our guide in another. Bang!
bang! went a couple of guns, and I heard the
bullets clipping through the trees. Surprised
and alarmed, I kept on, past a field of coffee and
into a belt of palms. Several of the soldiers
came after me, and I heard them shouting to me
to stop and promising all sorts of punishment if
I did not heed their command.
But I did not intend to stop, and only ran the
faster, past the palms and into a mass of brushwood growing to a height of ten or twelve feet.
At first the bushes were several feet apart, and
I went on with ease; but soon the growth was
more dense, and numerous vines barred the
way; and at last I sank down in a hollow, unable
to go another step, and thoroughly winded.
I remained in the hollow at least half an hour,
trying to get back my breath and listening intently to the movements of my pursuers. The
soldiers passed within fifty feet of me, but that
was as close as they got, and presently they




I128


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


went off; and that was the last I heard of
them.
In the excitement of the chase I had dropped
my pig meat, and now I discovered that nearly
all of my other traps were gone, including my
pistol, which had left my hand during a nasty
trip-up over a hidden tree root. The trip-up
given me a big bump on the temple and nearly
knocked me unconscious.
Crawling around, I found a pool of water, in
which I bathed my forehead, and then I set
about finding out what had become of Alano
and Jorge. I moved with extreme caution,
having no desire to be surprised by the enemy,
who might be lying in ambush for me.
Moving onward in the brush I soon discovered was no light undertaking, and it was fully
an hour before I found my way out to where the
vines grew less profusely. The spot where I
emerged was not the same as that at which I had
entered the undergrowth, and on gazing around
I was dismayed to find that the whole topography of the country looked different.
I was lost!
The thought rushed upon me all in an instant, and I half groaned aloud as I realized my
situation. I must be all of a mile from the plantation, and where my friends were I had not the
remotest idea.




ALONE.


129


The sun beat down hotly in the valley, and it
was not long before I was both dry and hungry.
I searched around for another pool, but could
not find any, and had to content myself with the
taste of a wild orange, far from palatable.
Noon came and went and found me still
tramping around the valley looking for Alano
and Jorge. In my passage through the bushes
my already ragged clothing was torn still more,
until I felt certain that any half-decent scarecrow
could discount me greatly in appearance.
At four o'clock, utterly worn out, I threw
myself on the ground in a little clearing and
gave myself up to my bitter reflections. I felt
that I was' hopelessly lost. Moreover, I was
tremendously hungry, with nothing in sight with
which to satisfy the cravings of my appetite.
Night, too, was approaching. What was to
be done?




CHAPTER XIX.


THE CAVE IN THE MOUNTAIN.
I lay in the clearing in the valley for all of half
an hour. Then, somewhat rested, I arose,
unable to endure the thought that night would
find me in the wilds alone and unarmed.
I could well remember how the sun had stood
when I had separated from my companions, and
now, using the sun as a guide, I endeavored
once more to trace my steps to the path leading
down to the river. Once the stream was gained
I resolved to search up and down its banks until
the old convent was sighted.
My course led me up the side of a small mountain, which I climbed with great difficulty, on
account of the loose stones and dirt, which more
than once caused my ankle to give a dangerous
twist. A sprained ankle would have capped
the climax of my misfortunes.
Just as the sun was beginning to set behind
the peaks to the westward of me, I reached a
little plateau which divided a ridge from the
mountain proper. Here I rested for a few minutes and obtained a refreshing drink at a spring
130




THE CA VE IN THE -MOtUNTAZA I.


13I


under some rocks. Then I went on, in some
manner satisfied that I was on the right path at
last.
But, alas! hardly had I taken a score of steps
than I stepped on a bit of ground which appeared solid enough, but which proved to be
nothing but a mass of dead brushwood lying
over a veritable chasm. The whole mass gave
way, and with a lurch I was hurled forward into
black space.
As I went down I put out my hands to save
myself. But, though I caught hold of several
roots and bits of rocks, this did not avail; and I
did not stop descending until I struck a, stone
flooring twenty feet below the top of the opening. Fortunately the floor was covered with
a large mass of half-decayed brush, otherwise
the fall must have been a serious if not a fatal
one.
As I went down, on hands and knees, a lot of
loose branches, dirt, and small stones rolled on
top of me, and for the minute I had a vision of
being buried alive.  But the downfall soon
ceased; and, finding no bones broken, I
crawled from under the load and surveyed the
situation.
I felt that I was now worse off than ever.
The well-hole-I can call it nothing else-was
about ten feet in diameter, and the walls were




132


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


almost smooth. The top of the opening was far
out of my reach, and, as for a means of escape,
there seemed to be none.
However, I was not to be daunted thus easily,
and, striking a match and lighting a cedar
branch, I set about looking for some spot where
I might climb up. But the spot did not present
itself.
But something else did, and that was an opening leading directly into the mountain. On
pulling at a projecting rock, I felt it quiver, and
had just time to leap back, when it fell at my
feet. Behind the rock was a pitch-black hole,
into which I thrust the lighted branch curiously.
There was a cave beyond-how large was yet to
be discovered.
I had no desire to explore any cave at that
moment, my one idea being to get out of the
well-hole and proceed on my way. But getting
out of the hole was impossible, and I was forced
to remain where I was, much to my disgust and
alarm.
Jorge had been right about the coming storm.
At an hour after sunset I heard the distant
rumble of thunder, and soon a lively breeze blew
through the trees and brush on the mountain
side. A few flashes of lightning followed, and
then came a heavy downpour of rain.
Not wishing to be soaked, I retreated to the




THE CA VE IN THE MOUN TA IN.


133


cave I had discovered, although with caution,
for I had no desire to take another tumble into
a deeper hole. But the floor of the cavern appeared to be quite level, and with rising curiosity
I took up my lighted cedar branch, whirled it
around to make it blaze up, and started on a
tour of investigation and discovery.
That I should not miss my way back, I lit a
pile of small brush at the mouth of the opening.
Then I advanced down a stony corridor, irregular in shape, but about fifty feet wide by half as
high.
The opening appeared to be a split in the
mountain, perhaps made ages before by volcanic
action.  I felt certain there was an opening
above, for in several spots the rain came
down, forming small pools and streams of
water.
Suddenly the idea struck me to watch which
way the water ran, and I did so and learned that
its course was in the very direction I was walking. Moreover the tiny streams merged one
into another, until, several hundred feet further
on, they formed quite a water course.
"If only this stream  flows into the main
river!" I thought, and on the spur of the moment resolved to follow it as far as I was able,
satisfied that if it led to nowhere in particular I
could retrace my steps to its source.




I34


W/HEN SANTIAGO FELL.


I now found the cave growing narrower, and
presently it grew less than a dozen feet in width,
and the stream covered the entire bottom to the
depth of several inches. Throwing my boots
over my shoulders, I began wading, feeling sure
of one step ere I trusted myself to take another.
It took me fully ten minutes to proceed a hundred feet in this fashion. The stream was now
not over six feet wide and all of a foot deep.
Making sure that my torch was in no danger
of going out, I continued to advance, but nlow
more slowly than ever, for in the distance I
could hear the water as it fell over a number of
rocks.  There was a bend ahead; and this
passed, I fervently hoped to emerge into the
open air, on the opposite side of the mountain
and close to the bank of the river for which I
was seeking.
At the bend the water deepened to my knees,
and I paused to roll up my trousers, in the meantime resting the torch against the wall, which
afforded a convenient slope for that purpose.
I had just finished arranging my trouser-legs
to my satisfaction, when.a rumble of thunder,
echoing and re-echoing throughout the cavern,
made me jump. My movement caused the
cedar branch to roll from the rocks, and it
slipped with a hiss into the stream. I made a
frantic clutch for it, and, in my eagerness to save




THE CA VE IN THE MOUN TAIN.


x35


tit from going out or getting too wet, I fell on it
in the very middle of the stream.
- With a splutter I arose to find myself in utter
darkness.  Moreover, the cedar branch was
thoroughly soaked, and it would take a good
many matches to light it again. And what was
still worse, every match my pocket contained
was soaked as badly as the torch.
I must confess that I was utterly downcast
over my mishap,, and if there had been any dry
ground handy I would have thrown myself down
upon it in abject despair.  But there was only
water around, and, disconsolate as I was, I felt
I must either go forward or backward.
How I became turned about I do not know,
but certain it is that, in essaying to return to the
spot from whence I had come, I continued on
down the stream. I did not notice the mistake
I had made until fifty yards had been passed and
I brought up against an overhanging rock with
my shoulder. Putting up my hands, I was dismayed to discover that the passage-way was
just high enough to clear my head.
Realizing that I must be walking into a trap,
I endeavored to turn about, when I slipped and
went down again. Before I could gain my footing I was swept around a bend and into a much
broader stream. All was as dark as before, and
I soon learned that the bottom of the new water



136        WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
course was beyond my reach. Putting my hand
up, I learned that the rocky ceiling was not over
two feet above the surface of the water, and the
distance between the two was gradually but
surely growing less!




CHAPTER XX.


SENOR GUEREZ.
I was horrified over the discovery that I had
made. Here I was, in absolute darkness,
hemmed in by water and rocky walls, and drifting rapidly I knew not whither.
In my terror I cried aloud, but only echo answered me-a peculiar echo which made me
shiver from head to foot.
On and on, and still on, was I dashed by the
underground current, which seemed to grow
more powerful as I advanced, until my head
grazed repeatedly against the wall over me,
and I felt like giving myself up for lost. Oh,
how bitterly I regretted the curiosity which had
led me to explore the cavern in which chance
had so strangely placed me!
But now what was this-a light? At first I
could scarcely believe the evidence of my senses.
There was a bright flash-then total blackness
again.
What could it mean? Perhaps. I was dreaming-or the fearful situation had turned my
brain. Then came a second flash and a revelation.
137




138        WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
It was the lightning from without, shining
through some opening into the waters under
and around me! I was nearing the outer world.
Oh, for a breath of fresh- air again!
Even as the thought crossed my mind, my
head struck the rocky ceiling again, and under I
went, to find that I could not come up, the
water now rising to the very rocks. But a
stronger light could be seen, and I dove along,
came up once, twice-and then emerged into
the open air with a splutter and a gasp, on the
verge of exhaustion.
The underground stream emerged at the very
base of the mountain, and on both sides were
level stretches of swamps, covered with rushes
and other tropical growths. Swimming for the
nearest bank, I drew myself up and fell on my
breast, too worn out to stand.
It did not matter to me just then that it was
night, that I was alone, and that it was raining in
torrents..I was safe from drowning-that was
my one thought, and never was a thought
sweeter to a boy.
For fully fifteen minutes I remained on the
'bank of the stream. Then, having recovered
somewhat from the effects of my awful experience, I arose and took as good a view of my
situation as was possible. I waited for a strong
flash of lightning, and by this saw that my for



SESOR GUEREZ.


x39


mer wish had been realized and that I was within
a few hundred feet of the river upon which the
convent was said to be located.
While the storm and the night lasted there
was nothing to do but to seek shelter wherever
it might be found; and, as the lightning now appeared to die away, I walked to the very mountain side, and found shelter under an overhanging rock, flanked by several tall trees. Here I
wrung what water I could from my clothing and
made myself as comfortable as my miserable
condition permitted.
Never was a person more glad to see the sun
than I. Old Sol came up clear and strong, and
my clothing quickly dried upon my body as I
walked along.
Passing around the swamps, which were full
of monstrous toads and numerous lizards, I
reached the bank of the larger stream and
started to hunt for the convent for which Alano,
Jorge, and myself had been bound. As I hurried on, as rapidly as the formation of the
ground permitted, I could not help but wonder
what had become of my chum and our negro
guide.  Had they escaped, to roam around
looking for me, or had they fallen into the hands
of the Spaniards at the coffee plantation?
Having had no breakfast, it was not long before I began to feel hungry. To satisfy the




140


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


cravings of my appetite I picked several almost
ripe plantains, which, however, proved rather
poor eating. I also spent some time in a hunt
for berries, but none were to be found.
By noon I calculated I had covered four or
five miles, and reached a narrow woods, growing on both sides of the river. Beyond the
woods was a village, a decidedly poor-looking
settlement composed of a score of rude dwellings built of logs and thatched with palm leaves
to keep out the rain.
I did not know whether to enter the village or
not, and remained in the woods for some time,
watching the inhabitants, consisting of a score
of men and women and perhaps fifty children of
all ages. The children were dirty, and wore
hardly any clothing, but they seemed to be as
happy as though such a thing as war had never
been mentioned. Most of the men were at work
curing some wild-hog meat, while the women
were engaged in braiding mats and other
articles for sale or exchange.
At last three of the children, running close to
the woods, espied me, and set up a shout of wonder and alarm, at which the men stopped work
and came rushing forward with their clubs and
machetes.  Seeing there was no help for it, I
stepped out into the open, and was immediately
surrounded.




SESOR G UEREZ.


i4I


Not a soul in the settlement, which went by
the name of Jiawacadoruo, could speak a word
of English, and for the time being I was partly
at a loss to make them understand that I came
as a friend who meant no harm. At the word
"A mericano" they grinned, and one of them
queried "Cuba libre? [For Cuban liberty?]"
and I nodded. Then I pointed to my mouth
and stomach to signify that I was hungry.
At once half a dozen of the women rushed off,
and soon I was presented with several bowls of
broth, made of chicken meat and vegetables,
strongly flavored with the inevitable garlic, and
a pot of strong black coffee. There was also a
dish of boiled arrowroot, made from the native
maranta, and this tasted best of all to me.
While I was eating I tried, by every means
in my power, to make these Cubans understand
that I wanted to find the old convent, but failed
utterly.  Finally an idea struck me, and I
essayed to carry it out. Tearing a page from a
blank book in my pocket, I drew upon it a rough
representation of a river and pointed to the
stream, at which the men gathered around
nodded that they understood.
Next I drew the picture of a boy at one end of
the river, and pointed to myself. I am not by
any means an artist; but we had had drawing
lessons at Broxville Academy, and I managed




142


WHEN$ SANTIAGO FELL.


to represent the boy as walking rapidly, as if in
a great hurry to get to where he was going.
This caused the men to laugh heartily.
The next thing to do was to draw the old convent.  Never having heard the structure described, I had to draw entirely upon my imagination, and my knowledge of convent architecture was decidedly limited. Yet I managed
to draw a fairly good representation of a ruined
stone building, with a cross at the top, and
before it put a priest, to whom, by an inspiration,
I suddenly pointed and cried "Father Anuncio."
A dozen exclamations followed, and the men
nodded to show that they now knew what was
wanted. A parley followed, and one tall negro
stepped forth and motioned that he was ready
to be my guide by pointing first to me and then
to my picture of the old convent.
Luckily I still retained a few silver pieces in
my pocket, and before leaving I left two of these
behind, to be divided among the crowd of negroes, for let me say in passing that all of the
inhabitants of Jiawacadoruo are people of color.
With my newly made guide I started up the
river, and the settlement was soon lost to
sight.
I wondered how long it Would take to reach
the old convent, and tried to put the question to
Bumbo, as I made his name out to be, but with\,,




SEPOR G UEREZ.


143


out success. Instead of answering with his fingers or by pointing to the sun, he merely
grinned and walked faster, until it was all I could
do to keep up with him.
It was almost sundown when we passed a
bend in the stream and mounted a bluff overlooking a wide expanse of swamp land. The
topmost point of the bluff reached, the guide
pointed ahead, and there, almost at our feet, I
saw the massive outlines of what long years before had been an imposing Spanish convent,
planted in that out-of-the-way spot for certain
noble families who had left Spain under a cloud
during the wars of the seventeenth century.
As we approached the building, which was
now little more than a mass of ruins, I saw several men standing just outside of the inclosed
courtyard. One was a priest, and two others
were in the uniform of officers in the Cuban
army. One of the latter I recognized as Seinor
Guerez, having met the gentleman once while
he was on a business visit to the United States.
"Sefior Guerez! " I called out, as I ran to
him; and he turned in amazement.
"Mark Carter!" he ejaculated, with a strong
Spanish accent. ".I am much astonished."
"Is my father with you?" I demanded
eagerly, as I looked around.
"No, my boy; I am sorry to say it."




144        WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
" And where is he? " I went on, my heart rising to my throat, as I saw a look of anxiety cross
the gentleman's bronzed features.
"Your father was made a prisoner by the
Spanish authorities two days ago," replied the
senior, and the answer all but prostrated me.




CHAPTER XXI.


THE ATTACK ON THE OLD CONVENT.
"My father a prisoner!" I gasped out, when
I could speak.
" Yes, Mark."
" And how was he captured? and why?"
"It is rather a long story. But tell me,
where is Alano?"  And now it was Sefior Guerez' turn to become anxious.
In a few words I explained matters, to which
the planter listened with close attention. His
brow darkened when I mentioned the Spaniards
up at the coffee plantation.
" I know them," he said. "We are expecting an attack from them every day."
" An attack at this place? "
" Yes." He turned to his companions, and
introduced me to Father Anuncio and to Lieutenant Porlando, both of whom shook hands
warmly when they were informed who I was.
" You see, many of the planters have brought
their families here," Sefior Guerez went on,
" and the Spanish think to subdue us if they can
make our wives and daughters prisoners. But
145




t46


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


that shall never be while we have strength to
fight."
" Tell me of my father," I said impatiently.
"Come inside, my boy," said Alano's father;
and giving Bumbo a bit of silver I sent him off,
and followed the others into the courtyard, in
the rear of which was the convent building
proper, although wings extended out upon both
sides.
In a shady corner I was introduced to La
Seniora Guerez and to Alano's two sisters, Inez
and Paula, two girls of ten and twelve, now
quite as dark as their father and mother, and
very beautiful, with their black wavy hair and
sparkling eyes full of good humor and merriment. Mother and daughters could speak a
little English, and for Alano's sake they fairly
made me feel like one of the family.
I was impatient to hear about my father; and
as soon as the senior had told the others of what
I had said concerning Alano, Sefor Guerez told
me his story.
"As soon as we felt that the war was going to
be severe and probably of long duration," said
he, "your father and I telegraphed to Dr. Walford to keep you at Broxville Academy until
you heard from us by letter. Two days later
came,.a return message stating that you had
z.l~eadygQn^,to;. New. Yrk1 and> taken,steZ re'




THE ATTACK ON THE OLD CONVENT. 147
for Cuba. The worthy doctor could not tell by
what route you had gone.
"This being the case, your father and I
concluded to let you come on, and I dispatched
Pedro, one of my faithful servants, to meet you
at Santiago de Cuba and conduct you in safety
to the plantation, where your father was still
down with his broken leg, which was, however,
mending rapidly.
"Several days went by, and matters became
very troublesome about my plantation. Some
of the men had joined the Cuban forces under
Brigadier General Jose Maceo, a brother to the
late Antonio Maceo, and my neighbors begged
me to join also and become captain of a company of white Cubans-they not caring to serve
under Maceo or Garcia and also not caring to
go as far west as where the forces under General
Gomez were located.
" While I was deliberating, a body of Spanish
guerrillas came along and burned down two of
my largest storehouses anid threatened my wife
with violence. This angered me, and I got my
gun and shot two of the rascals-one in the leg
and the other in the shoulder. A battle royal
ensued between my workmen and the guerrillas,
and the guerrillas received the worst of the encounter and were forced to retreat, with three
men wounded and one man dead.




148


WHEN SAN7'IA GO FELL.


"This settled the matter, and I joined the Cuban forces under Garcia without delay. Your
father also took part in the battle and saved my
wife from great indignities. When I called my
white men together, and my white neighbors,
they speedily formed a company of volunteers,
and I was chosen the captain, with Lieutenant
Porlando for my first officer and your father for
second lieutenant. We were all supplied with
good horses and first-class weapons, and the
very next day after effecting our organization
defeated a body of the Spanish troops and drove
them ten miles up the road and away from the
mountains which General Garcia is using as a
stronghold.
"As it was perilous in the extreme to leave
the women-folks home alone while the men were
away, it was decided by me and my neighbors
to bring them all here and leave them with
Father Anuncio and a strong guard. It was
believed that no one would dare molest any
woman while sheltered by this old convent.
There are within the walls over a dozen ladies
and nearly thirty children, besides a company of
picked men and six men who were wounded at
one time or another."
"But my father?" I put in, as the sefior
paused.
"I am coming to that, Mark. It was two




THE ATTACK ON THE OLD CONVENT. 149


days ago that our company was in the vicinity
of Guantanamo. I had received valuable information concerning the contemplated movements of the Spanish troops, and this information I wished to place in the hands of General
Garcia and his staff. Your father offered to find
a certain captain, while another of the company
rode off to find the general.
" Your father was accompanied by a private
named Hawley, an American who settled near
me several years ago. The pair 'were gone
about six hours when Hawley came riding back
to our camp, severely wounded in the thigh.
He said they had met a company of Spanish soldiers, who had discovered them ere they were
aware. Your father had been taken a prisoner,
wvhile Hawley had had a hard time of it to
escape."
" And have you heard of him since then? " I
asked anxiously.
" I heard from him yesterday. Some of our
soldiers, while tramping through the woods,
came across a Spaniard who was severely
wounded. They treated him. as well as he could
possibly expect, dressed his wounds, and gave
him a supply of water and bread and meat; and
in return he told them about their prisoner, your
father. He said your father was to be sent on




t3o


WH~EN SANTIAGO PELL.


to the authorities at Santiago as an American
spy."
"A spy!"
"Yes, my boy, a spy. It is, of course, a
foolish charge, but I am afraid it may cause your
father a good deal of trouble."
" Why, they place spies in dungeons and often
shoot them, Senfior Guerez! "
"Let us hope for the best, Mark," he returned soothingly.
"Would they dare shoot an American citizen?"
" Unfortunately your father was caught wearing a Cuban uniform and with our flag pinned
to his hat-as I have it."
I bowed my head, and something like tears
started to my eyes. This news was awful.
Supposing my father was shot as a spy? I
would be left alone in the world. Overcome
by my emotions, I felt compelled to turn away,
when Sefior Guerez placed a kindly hand on my
shoulder.
" Don't be too downcast, my boy. It may
not go so badly with your parent, and I will do
all I can for both of you. As soon as I can arrange certain matters' with the men who are in
charge here, I will follow up-those who have
your father in charge and see if he cannot be
rescued."




THE ATTACK ON THE OLD CONVENT. 151


"Oh, will you do that? " I cried, catching his
hand. "You are more than kind, Sefior Guerez!"
We were about to continue the conversation,
when the lieutenant to whom I had been introduced came rushing up all out of breath. He
had been walking down by the river, field-glass
in hand, and had made an important discovery,
which he imparted to the others in Spanish.
It was to the effect that a large body of Spanish soldiers were riding through the woods, back
of the river, and it looked as if they were bound
for the old convent. They were heavily armed,
and on the back of a mule could be seen a small
cannon.
"As I expected," muttered Sefior Guerez.
"I'll take a look at them."
He ran up to the roof of the convent, glass in
hand, and, nobody stopping me, I followed him.
A long, searching look and he dashed down the
glass, hurried below, and issued a dozen rapid
orders.
Men flew in all directions, some to get their
guns and pistols, and others to shut the gates
leading to the courtyard and to place square bits
of blocks into the deep windows.
I tried to get an explanation from somebody,
but all were too busy. Sefior Guerez was the
only one who gave me a hint of what was wrong.




152


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"'Tis a body of Spanish soldiers led by a
priest who is a rival to Father Anuncio. He
wishes to get the good father to give up this old
convent, which means that we must vacate too.
It is a ruse of the enemy."
No more was said. Quarter of an hour later
a white flag was waved and a man came up to
the old convent gates. A short talk ensued between him, Sefior Guerez, Father Anuncio, and
several others, and then the man withdrew.
Hardly had he gone than all of us heard the
cracks of a dozen or more guns, and as many
bullets flattened themselves on the convent
walls.
"They have opened the fight," remarked
Sefior Guerez grimly, while several of the
women and children shrieked. "Now we will
show them what we can do."
He selected the best of his soldiers, and placed
them at convenient loopholes in the upper part
of the old building. Weapons were ready for
use, and at a word of command the fire of the
Spaniards was returned.
A yell of surprise and rage went up, and there
immediately followed another volley of musketry from without. This was returned, and
this sort of thing lasted for quarter of an hour,
when the enemy retired behind the bluff I have
previously mentioned.




THE ATTACK ON THE OLD CONVENT. 153
But they did not remain quiet long. Presently, looking through his field-glass, Sefnor
Guerez announced that they had succeeded in
mounting the cannon they had brought along.
The weapon was duly loaded and sighted, and
we awaited with thrilling interest the effect of
this rather formidable weapon.




CHAPTER XXII.
THE ROUTING OF THE ENEMY.
Boom!
The Spanish gunners had fired the cannon
perched on the bluff, its muzzle pointed directly
for the doors of the old convent.
Hardly had we heard the report than there
was a crash and the splinters flew in every directio.n. The shot had struck the frame of the
doors and shattered it badly.
A cry of rage went up from the Cubans, and,
rushing to the loopholes left in the blocked-up
windows, they sought to pick off the gunners
with their carbines. But the Spaniards prudently kept out of sight, so this movement was
useless.
"Two more shots like that, and the doors
will come down," muttered Sefior Guerez, with
a grave shake of his head. "I wish we had a
cannon to fire in return."
A consultation was held, and all of the women
and children were told to retire to an inner room
of the convent, where the damage done by the
cannon might not reach them.
154




-11Ll'',~mns %4m'cMP1/ I'L
7/f
'1/,




e',.L




THE ROUTING OF THE ENEMY.


I55


This had scarcely been accomplished when
the Spaniards fired a secbnd shot. But their
aim was poor, and the ball only plowed up the
ground fifty feet outside of the courtyard.
Seflor, or rather Captain, Guerez, as I should
now call him, collected his men together, and a
short but exciting debate took place, only a few
words of which were plain to me. Alano's
father favored leaving the convent by a rear
passage-way leading to a woods and surprising
the enemy by coming up in their rear.
Just as a third shot from the cannon struck
the roof of the convent and tore off a corner of
the stonework, it was agreed upon to carry out
this project. Four men were left to exhibit
themselves occasionally, so that the Spaniards
might think the soldiers still there, and Alano's
father asked me to remain with them.
"I do not advise you to take part in the fighting," he said. "But if you find it necessary to
defend yourself, you'll find guns in plenty in the
dining-hall closet, with cartridges in one of the
drawers."
In less than ten minutes the company of soldiers, fifty-six strong, were on their way, leaving
the convent as silently as shadows. The moment the last of them had taken to the passageway, the entrance was closed and bolted, and I
found myself left behind with the women and




156


6WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


children and the four guards, none of whom
could speak a word of English.
After firing the third shot the Spaniards
paused, probably to hold a council of war. To
divert suspicion from the movements of Captain
Guerez and his men, the four guards and myself
passed out in plain sight of them several times.
Of course we did not remain long, nor did we
show ourselves in the same place twice. Our
appearance called forth half a dozen shots from
as many muskets, but we were too far off for
these to have any effect. One bullet did hit
near where a guard had shown himself, but its
force was spent and it did no damage.
Nearly half an hour had passed, when suddenly we heard a yell and a wild shouting, and
all of the Spaniards dashed into vieW, running
hither and thither as though panic-stricken.
Captain Guerez had surprised them completely,
and they thought it was a re-enforcement for the
old convent and not the soldiers from that place
themselves. A hundred shots rang out, and,
using a field-glass, I saw that the Spaniards were
completely demoralized. They formed into a
hollow square once, but this was speedily broken
up, and then off they rode and ran, helterskelter, down the bluff and across the river,
some fording and some swimming, for their very
lives.




THE ROUTING OF THE ENEMY.


157


The engagement had lasted less than quarter
of an hour when some of the Cubans came riding toward the convent gates, bringing with
them several wounded men-some of their own
party-and three of the Spaniards who had been
captured.
Captain Guerez had, in the meantime, followed the Spanish leader across the stream.
The pursuit was kept up for nearly half an hour,
at the end of which time the Spaniards were
driven so far off it was likely they would not
dare to return for a long while, if at all.
When Alano's father came back it was found
he had received a sword thrust through the
fleshy part of the leg. The wound was not a
dangerous one, but it was painful, and his wife
and daughters did all they could to ease his
sufferings.
"I am sorry for your sake, Mark, that I am
wounded," he remarked, as he rested upon a cot.
"I will have to keep quiet for a few days, and
thus our quest after your father will have to be
delayed."
"You wouldn't dare to leave here just yet
anyway, would you?" I asked, much disappointed, yet feeling that it was no more than I
could expect.
"Hardly, my boy. I do not expect those
Spaniards to return; we have given them far




!58       WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
more than they expected. They would not attack us without re-enforcements, and there are
no other Spanish troops within a good many
miles."
Now that the old convent had been once attacked, it was decided to keep a strict watch,
day and night, upon the roof and through the
grounds. A detail of men was formed, instructions to keep a constant lookout given, and then
Captain Guerez passed over his command temporarily to Lieutenant Porlando.
The remainder of the day passed quietly
enough, I occupying the time in repairing my
clothing, which needed many a stitch. In this
work the elder of Alano's sisters helped me,
Seniora Guerez keeping by her husband's
side and having the younger sister to assist
her.
I found Inez Guerez a most companionable
girl. Her stock of English was as limited as
was my knowledge of Spanish, yet we managed
to make each other understand, laughing
roundly over the mistakes we made. When I
mentioned Alano and told what great friends we
were, tears stood in her dark eyes and she said
she trusted he would soon reach the old convent
in safety. My father and she had also become
great friends, and she said she hoped he would
escape from his Spanish captors ere they had a




'THE ROUTING OF THE ENEMY.


I59


chance to thrust him into a dungeon at Santiago.
Having had no sleep the night before, I retired early, and was soon in the land of dreams,
despite the many misgivings I had concerning
my father's welfare. Fervently I prayed that he
might escape from the Spaniards who held him.,
and that we might speedily be reunited.
When I awoke in the morning the sky was
darkly overcast and it was raining furiously.
The downpour caused the river to rise, and the
lower end of the old convent was partly under
water.
A fair breakfast was had, consisting of coffee,
bread, and some fried plantains, which to me
tasted particularly fine, and then I went to Captain Guerez, to find him much improved and in
good spirits.
"We would not go off anyway in such a
storm as this," he said, as he sipped a bowl of
coffee. "It will be fresh and cool after it is
over, and by that time I think I will be able to
ride once more, and I think my cousin will come
to remain with my wife and girls."
The downpour up to noon was terrific, then
the sun came out strongly, and the hills and valleys were covered with a heavy mist as the water
evaporated. By sundown it became cooler, and
the roof of the old convent proved a most delightful lounging place.




i6o


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


We were all out there, watching the shadows
as the sun set behind the hills in the west, when
one of the guards announced that two men were
approaching from a trail leading through the
woods to the northwest. A field-glass was at
once procured, and Lieutenant Porlando. took a
long look at them.
" A black and a boy," he announced in Spanish, and I leaped forward and begged for the use
of the glass for a minute. My request was
readily granted, and I waited for the two newcomers to reappear among the trees.
" They are Alano and Jorge! " I exclaimed a
minute later.
" Alano! " cried my chum's sisters. "Are
you certain?"
" Yes, it is Alano, and he carries his arm in a
sling."
And down we rushed in a body and asked to
be let out of the courtyard. Inez was the first
to emerge into the open, and off she rushed at
full speed, to find herself a minute later in
Alano's arms, with Paula close behind.




CHAPTER XXIII.


ON THE TRAIL OF MY FATHER.
"Mark!" ejaculated my Cuban chum, when,
on releasing himself from his sisters' embraces,
he espied me. " So you have reached here before me. I am very glad to see it."
" You are wounded? " I queried, as we shook
hands. Had it not been for the girls and Jorge
we would have fairly hugged each other.
"How did that happen?"
"It's quite a story.  Are my father and
mother safe?"
"Yes, although your father, too, is wounded."
" Those soldiers at the coffee plantation, then,
did not manage to catch you?"
Cc No."
" They caught me and Jorge, and we were
their prisoners for five or six hours. We would
not have gotten away, only Jorge bribed one of
the servants at the plantation, another negro.
He cut the cords with which we were bound, and
we got out of the cellar into which we were put
at night."
"And that wound?"
z6z




I62


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


" I got that when they came after us, ten minutes later.  They couldn't see us and fired
blindly, and I got a bullet across the forearm.
But it's a mere scratch," Alano added, as he saw
Inez and Paula look serious.
He wanted to know all about my adventures,
but there was no time to tell oaf them just then,
for the convent gates were soon reached and
here Alano's mother met him and, after a warm
embrace, led him to his father's side. It was a
happy family gathering, and I thought it best to
withdraw for the time being. I walked again to
the roof; and an hour later Alano joined me
there.
His story was soon told. After escaping
from the coffee plantation he and Jorge had become lost like myself in the forest. They, however, had not made their way. to the mountain
side, but had entered a valley between that
mountain and the next, and, coming to a branch
of the river, had floated down it until overtaken
by the storm at night.
The storm had driven them to shelter under
some shelving rocks, and here a temporary camp
was made and Jorge went out on a search for
food. Little could be found, but in the morning the guide had brought down several birds
with a stick, and these they had cooked and
eaten with keen relish. The way was then re



OA THE TRAIL OF MY FA THRER.    i63


sumed, when, at noon, they had found themselves on the wrong road and many miles out of
their way.
Jorge was much chagrined at his mistake and
wanted Alano to kick him for his thoughtlessness. The stream was left, and they took a cut
through the woods, which at last brought them
to the old convent, as described.
When Alano had finished, I told him my story
in all of its details, especially my adventures in
the mountain stream and on the underground
river. He listened in silent amazement.
"It was a wonderful escape!" he cried, when
I was through. "A wonderful escape! I would
like some day to explore that cave."
"It was nothing but a big hole in the ground,
and I never want to see it again," I answered,
with a shudder. "But now you are here, what
do you expect to do?"
"If my father will permit me, I'll join you-and
him in the search for your father," he answered.
"But it may be that he will wish me to remain
here with my mother and my sisters."
"Yes, somebody ought to remain with them,
Alano."
"My father is expecting Sefior Noenti, a relative of mine. If he comes he will look after my
mother and sisters. He is a very brave and
powerful man."




x64


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


Alano and I oslept together that night, just as
we had often done at Broxville Academy. It
was a good deal to me to have my chum by me
again. We had missed each other more than
mere words can tell.
We had just finished breakfast the next day,
and Captain Guerez was trying to walk around
a bit on 'his wounded leg, when several newcomers were announced. Among them was
Seflor Noenti, who was warmly received by the
Guerez family.
During the morning it was arranged that he
should remain at the old convent during Captain
Guerez' absence, and by hard pleading Alano
obtained permission to join us in our hunt for
my father. Jorge and three other trusty men
were to go along also. Alano's father pronounced himself quite able to ride, and each of
us was fitted out with a good horse, a brace of
pistols, and a quantity of ammunition sufficient to last for several engagements.  We
also carried with us two days' rations. When
they were gone we would have to depend
upon what we found for our meals.     But
armed as we were, and in a country where
everything grew in profusion, it was not
likely that such a small body would lack for
something to eat. Starvation was common in
the regular Cuban army, but only when the




ON THE TRAIL OF AMY FATHER.


troops remained in one mountainous region for
a long while and ate up everything in sight.
Captain Guerez had a well-formed idea concerning the highways and trails the party having
my father a prisoner would take; and, after an
affectionate farewell to his wife and daughters,
he led our little party up past the bluff the
Spaniards had occupied and along a path skirting the mountain which had caused me so much
trouble. Our horses were fresh, and we made
good time until sunset, when We reached a small
village called Molino. Here there were a number of blacks and the poorer class of whites.
All, however, made us welcome, and here it was
decided to remain for the night.
The principal man living in the place was a
Spaniard named Curilos, a fellow who years before had been a sailor. He was a comical fellow
in the extreme and a good singer, accompanying
himself in singing on a home-made guitar, a
rough-looking instrument, but one very sweet
in tone. How a sailor had ever settled there
was a mystery to me, but there he was and apparently more than content.
Curilos' home was of long tree branches, fastened together with tough vines, which grow
everywhere in profusion. The branches were
twined and intertwined and lashed to four corner-posts. The roof of this abode Was covered




I66


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


with dried palm leaves, and was quite waterproof. In one corner was a rude fireplace of
stone, and the smoke curled up through a hole
in a corner of the building.
I slept in this structure on a hammock
stretched from one corner-post to another. It
was as good a bed as one would desire had it not
been for one thing, as disgusting to me as it was
annoying: the house was overrun with vermin
-a not uncommon thing, even in the dwellings
of the middle classes.
It was hardly sunrise when Alano's father
called us for breakfast, after which we leaped
into the saddle once more and rode off at a stiff
gait. The ride of the afternoon had left me a
little sore, I not as yet being used to such traveling, but I made up my mind not to complain, as
it would do no good and only worry Captain
Guerez and my chum. Riding never bothered
Alano, as he had been used to the high, stiff
Spanish saddle from early boyhood.
As we proceeded on our way we of course
kept a strict lookout for enemies, and on more
than one occasion Alano's father called a halt,
while he rode ahead to make certain that the
road was clear.
"If we're not careful the Spaniards may surprise us and make us all prisoners," he said
grimly. "Although I hardly think any troops




ON THE TRAIL OF MY FATHER.


i67


are near us at present," he added a minute
later.
Having stopped for dinner in the middle of a
dense woods, we rode out in the afternoon on a
broad plateau overlooking numerous valleys.
Far to the southward could be seen the buildings in Guantanamo. By the aid of the fieldglass Captain Guerez pointed out a portion of
his immense plantation.
As this was the first sight I had had of Alano's
home, I gazed at it with interest. While I was
looking, I saw a small column of smoke curling
upward from a broad stretch' of canefields. I
watched it for several seconds, and then called
Alano's attention to it.
"There should be no smoke there," he said
gravely,.and called his father, who had turned
away for the moment to give Jorge some directions.
" What is it-smoke?" cried Captain Guerez,
snatching the glass. " Let me see if you are not
mistaken." He gave a searching look and then
a groan. " You are right, boys, the Spaniards
have kept their word. They threatened to bum
down my fields if I did not declare in their favor,
and now they are doing it. In a few hours the
whole of my property will be nothing more than
a blackened waste!"




CHAPTER XXIV.


IN THE BELT OF THE FIREBRANDS.
"Do you mean to say, father, that they will
dare to burn down all of our sugar-cane fields?"
demanded Alano.
"Dare, Alano? They will dare do anything,
now they have heard that I have thrown in my
fortunes with the insurgents," replied Captain
Guerez bitterly.
" What of your house and barns?" I put in
soberly.
" Most likely they will be ransacked first and
then the torch will be applied," answered
Alano's father with increased bitterness. "Ah,
well, such are the fortunes of war. Cuba libre!"
he muttered firmly.
Alano's parent was first tempted to ride in the
direction of his plantation in the hope of saving
something, but speedily gave up the idea.
There was no direct course hither, and the
roundabout trail which must be pursued would
not bring him to Guantanamo until the next
morning.
"And by that time the Spaniards will have
168




IN THE BELT OF THE FIREBRANDS. 169
done their dastardly work and gone on," he remarked.
Several times as we rode along the plateau,
Captain Guerez stopped to take a look through
the field-glass, but he said nothing more excepting in an undertone to his son.
By sundown the plateau came to an end, and
we plunged into a valley which was for the most
part divided into immense sugar plantations,
some of them half a mile or more in length.
"This is something like that at home," remarked Alano to me, as we moved on side by
side. "That is, like it was," he hastened to
add.
"The fields will grow again, won't they? " I
asked.
" Oh, yes; but my father's loss will be very
great."
" I suppose so. Did he have much sugar on
hand?"
" The storehouses were full. You see, shipments have been at a standstill for a year or
more."
" It will take a long while, after the war is
over, to get back to prosperity, I am. afraid,
Alano?"
" It will take years, and perhaps prosperity
will never come. General Garcia is determined
to fight to the bitter end, and so is General Go



170


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


mez, and so long as both remain among the
mountains and forests it will be impossible for
the Spaniards to make them surrender. I heard
father say we could lead the Spanish troops a
dance from one spot to another for years, and in
the meantime Spain will get no revenue from
Cuba, while the expense of keeping the war up
will foot up to millions of piasters-something
that even Spain cannot stand."
"I wish it was all over, and that we were all
safe," I returned shortly. "I've seen all the war
I want."
"And yet you haven't seen any regular
battle," laughed my Cuban chum. "I'm afraid
you wouldn't make much of a fighter, Mark, if
Uncle Sam got into a muss."
"Oh, that would be different!" I burst
out. "I would fight for our country every
time."
Alano laughed more loudly than ever.
"That's just it-you would fight for the United
States just as we are now willing to fight for our
beloved Cuba."
I had to smile, for I saw that he was right.
Cuba was as much to him as our United States
was to me, and let me add that I am a Yankee
lad to the backbone, and always hope to be.
Having passed the end of a large plantation,
we came to several storehouses, which were




IN THE BELT OF THE FIREBRANDS. I 71I


wide-open and empty, and here we pitched our
camp for the night.
"How close are we to the spot where my
father was taken?" I asked of Alano's father
after supper.
"We have passed that locality," was the answer, which surprised me not a little. " By tomorrow noon I hope to reach a village called
Rodania, where I will be able probably to learn
something definite concerning his whereabouts."
This was certainly encouraging, and I went to
bed with a lighter heart than I had had since
leaving the old convent. Hope in a youthful
breast is strong, and I could not but believe that so far all had gone well with my
parent.
Fortunately, the storehouse in which I slept
with Alano and Captain Guerez was a clean
affair, so we were not troubled as we had been at
Molino with vermin. We turned in at nine
o'clock, and ten minutes sufficed to render me
forgetful of all of my surroundings.
I awoke with a cough. I could not breathe
very well, and sat up in the darkness to learn
what was the matter. The wind had banged
shut the storehouse door, and it was strangely
hot within.
"I'll open the door and let in some fresh air,"




172


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


I said to myself, and arose from the bunch of
straw upon which I had made my bed.
As I moved across the storehouse floor I
heard several of the horses which were tethered
outside let out snorts of alarm. Feeling something was surely wrong, I called to Alano and
his father.
" What's the trouble? " cried Captain Guerez
and Alano in a breath.
" I don't know, but the horses are alarmed," I
answered.
By this time all were aroused by a shout from
Jorge, who had been left on guard. As we
stepped into the open air, he came running up
from a path leading into the immense sugarcane field back of the storehouse.
"Fuego! fuego! [Fire! fire!]" he shouted at
the top of his powerful lungs.
" Where? " demanded Alano's father quickly.
" In the fields! A band of Spanish guerrillas
just came up and set fire all around."
" That cannot be, Jorge. This is the plantation of Seinor Corozan, a stanch supporter of
Spain. They would not burn his fields."
" Then they are rebels like ourselves."
This last remark proved true, although we
did not learn the fact until some time later. It
seemed Sefior Corozan had left the plantation
immediately after refusing the demands of a




IN THE BELT OF THE FIREBRANDS. 173
'Cuban officer for food for his soldiers, and in
consequence the rebel had dispatched a detachment to burn up everything in sight. It was a
wanton destruction of property, but it could not
very well be avoided, through the peculiar conditions under which the war was being carried
on.
Just now, however, there was no time left to
think of these matters. A stiff breeze was blowing, and looking over the sugar-cane fields we
could see the fire leaping from place to place.
Then, turning about, we made another discovery. The very storehouse in which we had
been sleeping was on fire. The smoke from the
smoldering straw was what had caused me to
cough and wake up.
"To horse, everyone! " shouted Captain Guerez. " We had best get out of here, for there is
no telling how far this fire extends, or how the
wind may shift around!"
Everyone understood what he meant-that
we were in danger of being caught in the midst
of the conflagration; and everyone lost not an
iota of time in loosening his animal and saddling
him. In less than three minutes we were off,
and riding down a narrow trail between the
fields with all the speed at our animals' command.
As we passed along, the sky above.us grew




I 74


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


brighter, and we could hear the crackling of the
cane in the distance. Then I felt a live ember
drop upon my neck, which raised a small blister
before I could brush it off.
"Jupiter! but thlis is getting hot!" I gasped,
as I urged my horse on beside that of Alano.
"I wonder if there is any danger of that fire
catching us?"
" I don't know, I'm sure," he panted. "The
only thing we can do is to ride for the hills,
where the fire won't have such a chance."
On and on we went, now in a bunch and then
again scattered into two or three groups. To
gain the hills we had to cross a bit of a valley,
and here our poor horses sunk into the mud half
up to their knees.
Captain Guerez had been riding in the rear,
but now he went ahead, to shout a word of guidance to the men in advance. Alano dashed on
with his father, expecting me to follow. But
my horse had become temporarily stuck, and
ere he could extricate himself I had to dismount.
Once free again, I was on the point of leaping
into the saddle as before, when a turn of the
wind brought a shower of burning embers in a
whirl over our very heads. I ducked and shook
them off, letting go of my steed for that purpose.
It was a foolish movement, for the embers




IN THE BELT OF THE FIREBRANDS. I75
also struck the animal, who instantly gave a
snort and a bound and ran off. I made a clutch
at his tail as he passed, but missed it, and a second later I found myself utterly alone, with the
fire of the sugar-cane fields hemming me in-on
all sides!




CHAPTER XXV.


ESCAPING THE FLAMES.
My situation was truly an appalling one.
Here I was, with the fierce fire from the sugarcane fields swirling about me, my horse and
companions gone, left utterly alone, with the
horrifying thought that each moment must be
my last.
As the horse disappeared in a cloud of eddying smoke, I attempted to rush after him, only
to slip in the mire and roll over and over.
When I scrambled up I was covered with mud
from head to foot, and the live embers from the
burning fields were coming down more thickly
than ever.
But life is sweet to all of us, and even in that
supreme moment of peril I made a desperate
effort to save myself. Seeing a pool of water
and mud just ahead of me, I leaped for it and
threw myself down.
It was a bath far from sweet, yet at that time
a most agreeable one. I allowed what there
was of the water to cover my head and shoulders and saw to it that all of my clothing was
176




ESCAPING THE FLAMES.


177


thoroughly saturated. Then I arose again, and,
pulling my coat collar up over my ears, leaped
on in the direction taken by my companions.
The air was like that of a furnace, and soon
the smoke became so thick I could scarcely see
the trail. The wind was blowing the fire directly toward me, and to have stood that onslaught for long would have been utterly
impossible.
But just as I felt that I must sink, and while
I murmured a wild prayer for deliverance, the
wind shifted and a cooling current of air reached
me. This was wonderfully reviving; and,
breathing deeply, I gathered courage and continued on my way.
Almost quarter of a mile was covered, and I
had gained the base of the hills, when the wind
shifted again, and once more the fire rushed onward and it became so hot I could not breathe
except with difficulty.
" Mark! Mark! where are you?"
It was a most welcome cry, coming from Captain Guerez. In an instant more Alano's father
dashed up through the smoke.
" Captain Guerez!" I gasped, and ran up to
his side. " Save me!"
"Where is your horse?" he asked, as he
caught me up and assisted me to mount behind
him.




I78


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"He ran away."
No more was said. Turning his animal about,
Captain Guerez dug his spurs deep into the
horse's flesh, and away we went up the hillside
at a rate of speed which soon left the roaring and
crackling sugar-cane fields far behind.
In fifteen minutes we had joined the others of
the party, on a plateau covered with stunted
grass and well out of reach of the fire. Here it
was found that my runaway horse had quietly
joined his fellows. I was tempted to give him
a whipping for leaving me in the lurch, but desisted "upon second thought, as it would have
done no good and I knew the animal had only
done what I was trying to do-save my life.
"That was a narrow escape for you, Mark!"
cried Alano, as he came up with an anxious look
on his face. "You ought to be more careful
about your horse in the future."
"You can be sure I will be, Alano," I answered; and then turned to Captain Guerez and
thanked him for what he had done for me.
It was hardly, dawn; yet, as all had had a fair
night's rest, it was determined, to proceed on
our way and take a somewhat longer rest during
the hot noon hour.
"This fire will necessitate a change in our
course," said Captain Guerez to me.
"Will that delay us much?"




ESCAPING THE FLAMES.


I79


" Not over a few hours. We will reach Rodania by nightfall."
The captain was right, for it was not yet six
o'clock when, from the side of one mountain, we
saw the buildings of Rodania perched upon the
side of another. We traveled across the tiny
valley separating the two, and just outside of the
town Captain Guerez called a halt.
" I.think I had better send Jorge ahead and
see if the coast is clear," he said. " The coming
of the negro into town will not be noticed, and
he can speedily learn if there are any Spaniards
about."
This was agreed upon, and, after receiving his
instructions, the colored guide hurried away, to
be gone less than half an hour.
" Spanish soldiers dare yesterday," he announced. "All gone now-on the road to Cubineta."
" Did they have any prisoners?" questioned
Captain Guerez.
" Yes, dree-two Cubans and an Americano."
" My father! " I cried. "Oh, Captain Guerez, cannot we overtake them before they manage to get him to some fort or prison? "
" We'll try our best, Mark," replied Alano's
father.
" Why can't we travel after them at once?"




I80


WHEN SANTIAGO0 FELL.


put in Alano, fairly taking the words out of my
mouth.
"We will," replied his father. "The long
noontime rest has left our horses still fresh.
Forward, all of you! We will take a short cut,
and not visit Rodania at all."
During the halt I had taken the opportunity
to brush off my clothing, which was now thoroughly dry. I had taken a bath at noon, so
now felt once more like myself, although several
blisters on my neck and hands, received from
the fire, hurt not a little. I told Jorge of the
burns, and he ran into the woods for several
species of moss, which he crushed between
two rocks, putting the crushed pulp on the
blisters.
"Take burn out soon,"'he announced; and he
was right. In less than half an hour after the
application was made the smarting entirely
ceased.
We were now in the depths of a valley back
of Rodania, and here the trail (they are called
roads in Cuba, but they are only trails, and
sometimes hardly that) was so choked up with
vines and so soft that our progress was greatly
impeded, and about eight o'clock we came to a
halt in the darkness.
"The mud beyond is all of two feet deep, and
we can't get through it," declared one of the




ESCAPING THE FLAMES.


~ i8i


men, who had been sent in advance. "We'll
have to go back."
This was discouraging news, and I looked in
perplexity at Alano's father, whose brow contracted.
"I'll take a look myself," he said, and, dismounting so that his horse might not get stuck,
advanced on foot.
In my impatience I went with him. The way
was very dark, and I suggested that a torch be
lighted.
" An excellent plan," said Alano's father, and
immediately cut a cedar branch. By its blaze
we were enabled to see quite well, and succeeded
in finding another path around the muddy spot.
To save our horses we walked them for half
a mile. It was tough traveling, and the clouds
of mosquitoes made the journey almost unendurable. I was glad when, at early dawn, we
emerged from the valley on a bit of a rise, where
the ground was firm and the growth somewhat
limited.
A broad highway now lay before us, the main
road from Rodania to Cubineta. It was one of
the best highways I had seen since leaving Santiago de Cuba, and this was explained by Captain Guerez, who said the road had been put into
condition just previous to the breaking out of
the war.




i82       WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


As usual, one of the party was in advance, and
this was a lucky thing, for about ten o'clock the
soldier came tearing toward us on his horse and
motioning us to take to the woods.
Captain Guerez was on the lookout, and
turned to us quickly.
"Dismount!" he cried in Spanish, and we
leaped to the ground, and led our animals into
a thicket growing to the left of the highway.
The vidette followed us, stating that a large
body of Spanish cavalry was approaching.
We forced our horses into the thicket for fully
a hundred feet and tied them fast. Then, with
cautious steps, we returned to the vicinity of the
road and concealed ourselves behind convenient
trees and bushes.
By this time a thunder of hoofs could be
heard, and soon the cavalry appeared, at least
two hundred strong.  They were the finest
body of men I had seen in the island, and looked
as if they had just come over from Spain, their
uniforms and weapons were so clean and new.
They were riding at a brisk pace, and hardly had
we caught a good look at them than they were
gone, leaving a cloud of dust behind them.
Captain Guerez was the first to speak, when
they were well out of hearing.
"It's a good thing we did not run into them,"
he remarked grimly. "Our little detachment




ESCAPING THE FLAMES.


i83


would have stood small chances with such a
body of well-armed men."
"They form a great contrast to the rebels," I
could not help but murmur.
"They do indeed, Mark. But why not?
The rebels, especially in this district, were never
soldiers. When the war broke out they were
without uniforms or weapons; and what was and
is worse, many of them knew nothing about the
use of a firearm. You will find the men in the
western provinces, where the whites predominate, both better trained and clothed-although,
let me add, their hearts are no more sturdy or
loyal than you will find here in the East."
Thus talking, we went on and on, until Alano,
who had gone ahead this time, came back with
the information that Cubineta was in sight.
"And the village seems to be under guard of
the Spanish soldiery," he added, words which
caused me, at least, considerable dismay.




CHAPTER XXVI.


A DISHEARTENING DISCOVERY.
"Under Spanish guard! " I cried, and looked
questioningly at Alano's father.
" That's too bad," he said gravely. "However, there is no help for this unexpected turn
of affairs, and we must make the best of it.
Alano, my son, you are sure you are not mistaken?"
" There are a number of Spanish soldiers on
the highway, and with the field-glass I saw that
more soldiers were scattered round about."
"Then your report must be true. I'll ride
ahead and take a view of the situation."
I begged to go along, and Captain Guerez
agreed.  Alano came too, while the others
withdrew to a thicket, to avoid being surprised
by any of the Spaniards who might be out
foraging.
A turn in the highway brought us in full view
of Cubineta. Of course we were not foolish
enough to expose ourselves. Screened behind
bushes and vines, we took a survey through the
glass of the place, its people, and the soldiers.
i84




A DISHEAR TENING DISCO VER Y.


I85


Cubineta was not a large village, but it was a
pretty place and evidently thriving-or had been
thriving before the war put a blight upon all
Cuban industries. There was one long street
of stores and dwellings, a church, a casa or townhouse, and at the farthest end what looked to be
a hastily constructed fort, built of heavy logs
and sods.
" The Spaniards are evidently going to use
the place as a center or depot for supplies," was
Captain Guerez' comment. " Under the present circumstances I hardly know what is best to
do."
"Perhaps they have my father a prisoner in
that fortress," I suggested.
"It is not unlikely, Mark-if the men who
held him have not yet gone further than Cubineta."
" Can't we steal into town under cover of
night? " I continued.
"We might do that-if it would do any
good."
" I want to join my father at any hazard."
" That might be very foolish, Mark. How
can you assist him if you are yourself made a
prisoner? "
"Would they hold a boy like myself?"
"You are not so young as you would like to
make them imagine," laughed Alano's father




i86


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


shortly.  "Besides, if left free, they would be
afraid you would carry messages for your father.
I think the best thing we can do just now is to
let Jorge go into town, pretending he is half
starved and willing to do anything for anybody
who will give him food. By taking this course,
no one will pay much attention to him, as there
are many such worthless blacks floating about,
and he can quietly find his way around the fort
and learn what prisoners, if any, are being kept
there."
This was sensible advice, and, impatient as I
was to catch sight of my parent, I agreed to
wait. We rode back to where the others had
made their camp, and Jorge was called up and
duly instructed. The black grinned with pleasure, for he considered it a great honor to do spy
work for such an influential planter as Captain
Guerez. Possibly he had visions of a good situation on the plantation after the war was over;
but, if so, he kept his thoughts on that point to
himself.
Jorge gone, the time hung heavily on the
hands of all; but I believe I was the most impatient of the crowd, and with good reason.
Alano noticed how uneasily I moved about, and
soon joined me.
"You must take things easy, Mark," he said.
"Stewing won't do any good, and it will only




A DISHEARTENING DISCO VERY.


I87


make you sick, combined with this hot weather,
which, I know, is about all you can stand."
"If only I felt certain that my father was safe,
Alano! Remember, he is all I have in the
world. My mother has been dead for years, and
I never had a brother or a sister."
I think it will all come out right in the end,"
he answered, doing his best to cheer me up.
"They won't dare to-to     "  He did not
finish.
"To shoot him? That's just what I fear
they will do, Alano. From what I heard at Santiago de Cuba, the Spaniards are down on most
Americans, for they know we sympathize with
you and think Cuba ought to be free, or, at least
ought to have a large hand in governing itself."
When nightfall came most of the others lay
down to sleep. But this was out of the question for me, tired though I was physically, and
so I was left on guard, with instructions to call
one of the men at midnight.
Slowly the hours went by, with nothing to
break the stillness of the night but the hum of
countless insects and the frequent note of a
night bird. We had not dared to build a campfire, and in consequence there was no getting
where the smoke drifted and out of the way of
the mosquitoes.
At midnight I took a walk around to see if all




I88


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


was safe. The man I was to call slept so
soundly I had not the heart to wake him up, so
I continued on guard until one, when a noise
down by the road attracted my attention.
Pistol in hand I stalked forward, when I heard
a low voice and recognized Jorge. The negro.
had been walking fast, and he was almost out of
breath.
"Well?" I inquired anxiously. "Is my
father.there?"
" I think he is, sefnor," replied the guide. " I
go to prison-fort-da have six Cubans dare an'
one Americano."
"My father!"
"I talk to some men, an' da tell me prisoners
come in last night-some from Rodania, udders
from udder places. Americano in a prison by
himself, near the river. I swim up close to dat
prison-maybe we make hole in wall an' git him
out."
" Could we do that, Jorge, without being discovered? "
" Tink so, senfior-work at night-now, maybe. Swim under river an' come up by fort, den
dig with machetes-make hole under fort."
"If only we could do that! " I cried; and then,
struck with a sudden idea, I caught Jorge by the
arm. " Jorge, if I go, will you come and show
me the way and help me? "




A DISHEAR TENING DISCO VERY.


I89


"Yes, senfior."
"Then let us go at once, without arousing the
others. More than two might spoil the plan.
Go back to the road and wait for me."
The guide did as directed, and I turned back
into camp. Here I awoke the man previously
mentioned, and told him I was going off to meet
Jorge. He but partly understood, but arose-to
do guard duty, and I hurried off.
I felt that I was not doing just right in not
notifying Captain Guerez and Alano, but I was
impatient to meet my father and was afraid if I
told them what Jorge had said they would want
to delay matters. As events turned out it
would probably have been much better had I
been guided by their advice.
A short but brisk walk brought the guide and
myself in sight of the town. On the outskirts
the campfires of the Spanish soldiers burned
brightly. These we carefully avoided, and
made a detour, coming up presently to the bank
of the stream upon which the fort was located.
The river was broad and shallow, and as it ran
but sluggishly we might have forded across, but
this would have placed us in plain view of the
sentries, who marched up and down along the
river bank and in front of the prison-house.
Disdaining to undress, we dropped down into
the stream and swam over, with only our faces




90       WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
* out of water, and without a sound, to a spot behind the building opposite. We came up in a
tiny hollow, screened by several small bushes,
and crawled on our stomachs to the rear of the
wing in which the guide said the American prisoner was incarcerated.
I had a long and broad dagger which I had
picked up the day previous, and Jorge had his
machete, and with these we began to dig a tunnel leading under the wooden wall of the fort.
Fortunately, the ground was not hard, and soon
we broke through the very flooring of the
prison. I was in the lead, and in great eagerness
I poked up my head and gazed around me.
"Hullo, who's there? " cried a startled voice,
in English, and my heart sank completely, for
the prisoner was not my father at all.




CHAPTER XXVII.


GILBERT BURNHAM.
"Are you alone? " I asked, when I had recovered sufficiently to speak.
"An American! " came the low cry. "Yes,
I am alone. Who are you, and what do you
want?"
"I came to save you-that is, I thought my
father was a prisoner here," I stammered.
"Are you tied up?"
"Worse, chained. But I think the chain can
easily be. broken. If you'll help me get away
from here, I'll consider myself in your debt for
life."
" I'll do what I can for you. But keep quiet,
for there are a number of guards about," I whispered.
With an effort I squeezed through the hole
that had been made, and felt my way to the prisoner's side, for the interior of the cell was dark.
He had a chain around one wrist, and the chain
was fastened by a large staple driven into a log
of the wall of the fort.
Jorge had come up behind me, and, learning
191




192


WHEIV SANTIAGO FEL~L.


of the staple, began to cut at the woodwork surrounding it with his machete. The lower end
of the blade was fairly keen, and he made such
rapid progress that in less than five minutes a
sharp jerk cleared the staple from the log, and
the prisoner was free.
"Good for you," he whispered to the colored
guide. "Now which is the way out of this
hole?"
"Follow me, and keep very quiet," I whispered, and motioned to Jorge to lead the way.
Soon the guide had disappeared into the
opening we had made. Going from the prison
was worse than getting in, and the man we were
trying to rescue declared the passage-way too
small for him.
We commenced to enlarge it, I with my dagger and he with his hands. We had just made
it of sufficient size when we heard a cry from
outside. Jorge had emerged into the open,
only to be discovered by a sentry who chanced
to be looking his way. There was a shot, and
half a dozen soldiers came running up, at which
the guide took to the river with a loud splash.
"I'm  afraid we are lost!" I cried, and
stopped, half in and half out of the hole. Then
the prison door was banged open, and the rays
of a lantern flared into the cell.
The American I had discovered promptly




GILBERT B URNHAM.


193


showed fight by leaping on the intruder. But
this was madness, as the soldier was backed up
by four others, all armed with pistols and guns.
In the meantime another light flashed from outside the hole, and I felt myself caught, very
much like a rat in a trap.
"lDe donde viene V.? [Where do you come
from?]" demanded a cold, stern voice, and I felt
myself grabbed by the hair. Realizing that resistance was useless, I gave myself up, and immediately found myself surrounded by a dozen
Spanish soldiers. In the meantime Jorge had
made good his escape.
The soldiers marched me around to the entrance of the fort, where an officer began to
question me in Spanish. He could speak no
English, and as soon as he found my command
of Spanish was very limited he sent off for an
interpreter. Then I was taken inside the fort
and consigned to one of the prison cells.
My feelings can be better imagined than described. Bitterly I regretted having started on
my midnight quest without notifying Captain
Guerez. My hasty action had brought me to
grief and placed me in a position from which
escape seemed impossible. What my captors
would do with me remained to be seen. That
they would treat me in anything like a friendly
fashion was out of the question to expect. It




194


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


was likely that they would hold me as a prisoner
of war.
Presently the door of the cell was opened, and
somebody else was thrown in bodily and with
such force that he fell headlong. The door was
banged shut and bolted, and the crowd which
had been outside went away.
The new arrival lay like a log where he had
been thrown, and for a few minutes I fancied
he must be dead from the way he had been
treated.
I bent over him, and in the dim light of the
early dawn made out that it was the American I
had sought to rescue. I placed my hand over
his heart and discovered that he still breathed,
although but faintly. 
There was nothing at hand with which I could
do anything fo.r him. My own pockets had
been turned inside out by my captors, and even
my handkerchief, with which I might have
bound up an ugly wound on his brow, was gone.
I opened his coat and vest and his shirt around
the neck, and gave him as much air as I could.
"Oh!" he groaned, as he finally came to his
senses. "Oh! Don't kick me any more! I
give in!"
"You're all right-they have put you in a
cell with me," I hastened to reassure him, and
then he sat up.




GILBER T B URNHAM.


195


"Who-what ---" he paused. "In a cell,
eh? And they caught you, too?"
Yes."
"That's too bad." He drew a deep breath.
"Did you fight with them?"
"No. I saw it would be no use."
"I was a fool to do it. I'm too hot-blooded
for this sort of work. I ought to have stayed in
Boston reporting local affairs."
"Are you a reporter?"
"Hush! Yes; but I don't want it to become
known if I can help it. They think I am nothing more than an inquisitive American."
"Then why did they lock you up?"
"That was more of my hotheadedness. I
was sketching a picture of the town and this fort
or prison, when a Spanish officer came up and
tried to snatch the drawing from my hand. Instead of demanding an explanation I promptly
knocked him down. Then a couple of guards
ran for me, and I dusted. But it was no use.
They sent a company of soldiers after me, and
here I am."
"And here we are both likely to remain for
some time to come," I added bitterly.
"Looks that way, that's a fact. By the way,
you said something about your father, didn't
you?"
"Yes. My father is a prisoner of the Span



I96       WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
iards, and I felt almost certain he was in this
fort."
" What's your father's name?"
" Richard Carter. My name is Mark."
"And my name is Gilbert Burnham. I've
heard of yo-ur father, come to think of it. He
joined the Cuban army along with a plantation
owner named Guerez and another American
named Hawley."
" You are right. Did you hear anything at
all of him here in Cubineta or the vicinity? "
" No. But then, you see, that is not strange,
as I talk very little Spanish. I certainly haven't
seen any Americans here but you and myself."
Gilbert Burnham asked me to tell him my
story; and, feeling that I could lose nothing by
so doing, I favored him with a recital of my
efforts to get to my father. He was quite interested.
" By Jove, young man, if I get clear from
here I'll do what I can to help you," he said.
Then he told me his own history-how he had
grown tired of newspaper reporting in Boston
and begged the head editor of the paper he
represented to send him on an " assignment " to
Cuba. He had been in the island four months,
and had had a varied list of adventures, although
none of a particularly thrilling or perilous
nature.




GILBERT BURNHAM.


197


" But now it looks as though I was in for it,"
he  concluded  moodily.  "That officer I
knocked down will make matters as hard as he
can for me."
"And I'm afraid trying to break away from
prison won't help matters," I said.
" You are right there. But, heigho! we must
make the best of it."
Yet making the best of it was small satisfaction to me. Tired out in body and mind, I sank
down in a corner of the gloomy and damp cell
and gave myself up to my bitter reflections.


a




CHAPTER XXVIII.


A BATTLE ON LAND AND WATER.
It was about eight o'clock in the morning
that the door of the prison cell was opened and
Gilbert Burnham and I were ordered to march
out into a larger apartment.
The order was given by a Spanish officer who
spoke fairly good English, and the officer was
backed up by a guard of eight men, all well
armed.
"They are going to run no chances on us
now," remarked the newspaper correspondent,
as he arose from the floor, upon which he had
been resting.
" We had better be as civil as possible," I answered. " If we anger them they have it in
their power to make fis mighty uncomfortable."
" I'll keep as civil as my hot-headedness will
permit," he grumbled.
We were led from one end of the fort to the
other, where there was a narrow room, provided with a small, square table and half a dozen
198




A BATTLE ON LAND AND WATER. 199


benches. At the table sat several officers I had
seen before. One was a particularly ugly-looking fellow, and Burnham nudged me and
said this chap was the fellow he had knocked
down.
" And he's got it in for me," he added.
I was marched to the front of the table, and
the officer who could speak English forced me
to clasp my hands behind me. This done, one
of the officers at the table asked a number of
questions in Spanish.
"No habla V. castellano? [Do you not speak
Spanish?]" he asked me.
"No, sefior," I replied.
He glared at me supiciously for a moment,
then spoke to the other officer.
"Who you are?" demanded the latter.
" I am Mark Carter, an American boy. I
came to Cuba to join my father, who was stopping at a plantation near Guantanamo."
This was repeated in Spanish. At the mention of my name several of those present exchanged glances.
" You son of Richard Carter? " was the next
question.
" Yes, senor. I understand he is a prisoner.
Is it true? "
My question remained unanswered, and it was
plain that my captors intended to give me no
information.




200


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


" Why you break in the fort? Did this man
pay you to do that?" And the Spanish officer
pointed to Gilbert Burnham.
" I never saw or heard of this man before,
sefior. I broke in because I thought my father
was a prisoner there. I heard an American was
there, and I thought it must be he."
"Aha, I see! Well, your father is not here,
as you have found out."
" Where is he? "
This question also remained unanswered.
The officers began to consult among themselves,
and then I was ordered back to the cell. I tried
to protest, and pleaded for liberty, for a chance
to find my parent, but it was all in vain. I was
hustled off without ceremony and made as close
a prisoner as before.
It was nearly noon before Gilbert Burnham
joined me. In the meantime I had had nothing
to eat or drink, and was beginning to wonder
if my enemies meant to let me die of hunger and
thirst.
The face of the newspaper correspondent was
much downcast'
" I'm to catch it now," he said. "To-morrow
morning they are going to start to. transport me
to some regular fortress, and there I suppose I'll
be permitted to languish until this bloody war
is over. I wish I had made a dash for liberty
when I was out in that courtroom."




A BATTLE ON LAND AND WATER. 201


"They would have shot you dead. They
were too well armed for anything of the
sort."
"Maybe. But this is tough. Is there a
pitcher of water anywhere?"
" Not a drop."
At this he stormed more than ever, and finally
shouted to the guard to bring some agua. But
no one paid any attention to his cries, further
than to order him to be silent, under penalty of
being gagged, and then he subsided.
Slowly the morning wore away. The sun
was shining brightly outside, and the cell, with
only one narrow window, high up to the ceiling,
was like a bake-oven. Once I climbed up to the
window sill and looked out, only to have the
muzzle of a gun thrust into my face, while a
guard outside ordered me to drop. I drqpped,
and made no further attempt to get a whiff of
fresh air.
I wondered if Jorge had escaped in safety and
if Captain Guerez would do anything to save
me. I felt certain he would be very angry over
the way I had acted, and, looking back, I felt
that I richly deserved to be censured.
It was high noon, and I and my companion
were walking the floor, impatient for food and
drink, when the door opened and a guard came
in with a platter and an earthenware pitcher.




202


WHEN SANTIA GO FELL.


He set both on the floor and withdrew without
a word.
"Well, here's something, anyway," remarked
Gilbert Burnham. "Bah! a stew of onions and
garlic, not fit for a dog to eat. Let me have
some of the water."
Neither of us could do more than taste the
mess which had been served; and as for the
water, it looked as if it had been scooped from
the river, and was both warm and muddy. I
had just finished taking a gingerly drink, when
a shot from outside startled both of us. Several more shots followed, and then came a blast
on a trumpet from somewhere in the distance.
" Hullo! that means a fight!" ejaculated Gilbert Burnham, his face brightening. "I hope
it's a body of rebels to the rescue."
" So do I, and I further hope they release us,"
I replied.
At the first shot an alarm had been sounded
in and about the fort. We could hear the soldiers hurrying in several directions and a nhm~ber of orders issued in Spanish. The firing now
continued to increase, and presently we heard a
crash of splintered woodwork.
"It's getting interesting, eh, Carter?" said
Gilbert Burnham. "If only they don't grow
too enthusiastic and fire in here! "
Scarcely had he spoken than we heard a little




A BATTLE ON LAND AND WATER. 203


noise up at the window. A bullet had entered
and buried itself in the woodwork opposite.
"Better lay down," I urged, and set the
example, which the newspaper man was not
long in following. The firing and shouting
kept on steadily, and we heard the occasional
splashing of water, telling that the encounter
was taking place on the river as well as on land.
The battle had been going on with' more or
less violence for half an hour, when there came
a wild rush through the fort, and some shooting
just outside of our cell. Then the door went
down with a crash, and we found ourselves confronted by a score or more of dusky rebels,
all of whom wore the flag of Cuba pinned to
their hats and coats.
"Americano! " shouted one of them, and
allowed us to come outside. Then,. without
waiting to question us, the crowd dashed to the
entrance of another cell and succeeded in liberating several of their own countrymen. But no'w
the soldiers of the fort rallied, and the intruders
were driven back.
Feeling it was our one chance to escape, we
went with the insurgents, and soon found ourselves on the outskirts of Cubineta, in a spot
backed up by a forest of palms and oaks. As
we ran along Gilbert Burnham paused and
pointed to the dead body of a Spanish soldier,




204


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


" He won't need his weapons any more, poor
fellow," he said, and stooping down secured two
pistols, one of which he gave to me. There was
also a belt of cartridges, and this was speedily
divided between us.
" I think the road to the camp I left is behind
us," I remarked, as I took a view of the situation, in the meantime screening myself from our
enemies by diving behind a clump of trees. " I
think I'll go in that direction. Do you want to
come along?"
My companion was willing to go anywhere,
so long as we kept clear of the Spanish forces,
and off we went on an easy run down the highway, keeping our pistols in our hands and our
eyes to the right and the left, as well as ahead.
Quarter of an hour of this sort of traveling
brought us to the spot where I had left Alano
and the others.
The temporary camp was deserted.




CHAPTER XXIX.


LOOKING FOR MY CUBAN CHUM.
"Gone, eh? " remarked Gilbert Burnham, as
he saw the disappointed look upon my face.
" Well, you could hardly expect anything different, with the fighting going on. It's more
than likely they took part in the attack."
" I presume so," I answered. " But where
can they be now? The firing has about ceased."
"'The rebels have withdrawn from the town,
that's certain. Let us try to find the main body
of the insurgents, and there we'll probably learn
of the whereabouts of your friends."
I considered this good advice, and, leaving the
vicinity of what had been the. former camp, we
struck out on a trail which took us in a semicircle around Cubineta.
It was one of the hottest days I had yet experienced since landing on the island, and we
had not progressed a half-mile before I was fairly
panting for breath. As for Gilbert Burnham,
he declared that he must halt or collapse.
"Talk about balmy groves and summer
skies," he growled. "I would rather be at the
205




2o6


WHEN$ SANTIAGO FELL.


North Pole any time. Why, I'll bet a dollar
you could bake bread on that bit of ground out
there!" and he pointed to a stretch of dark soil,
dried as hard as stone by the fierce rays of the
sun.
"The average Cuban never thinks of traveling in the sun between eleven and three o'clock,
and I don't blame him," I rejoined. "Let us
climb a tree and take it easy."
We mounted an oak, I making certain first
that there was no snake on it, and took seats
near the very top. By parting the branches we
could get a fair view of Cubineta, and we saw
that the attack was at an end. The rebels had
retreated out of sight, but not before setting fire
to the fort, which was burning fiercely, with
nothing being done to save it from destruction.
"To me it looks as if the rebels were bunched
in the woods to the north," I said, after a long
and careful survey. "I wish we had a fieldglass."
" I'm glad we took the pistols, Carter. They
may come in very handy before we reach safe
quarters again."
"I'm sure I don't want to shoot anyone,
Burnham," I answered.
"But you believe in defending yourself?"
"Yes. But what do you propose to do, now
you have escaped?"




LOOKING FOR MY CUBAN CHUM.


207


"Get back to' the coast and take the first vessel I can find for the United States."
"Then you've had sufficient of reporting
down here?"
"Yes, indeed! If any other young man
wants to come down here and take my place, he
is welcome to do so." And Gilbert Burnham
spoke with an emphasis that proved he meant
every word he uttered.
As soon as we were cooled off and rested, we
resumed our way, through a heavy undergrowth
which, on account of the entangling vines, often
looked as if it would utterly stay our progress.
But both of us were persevering, and by four
o'clock had reached the section of country I
had fancied the rebels were occupying.
My surmise was correct. Hardly had we
proceeded a dozen yards along a side road than
three Cubans leaped from behind some brush
and commanded us to halt. We did so and explained that we were Americans, at the same
time pointing to the burning fort and then
crossing our wrists as though tied.
The rebels understood by this that we had
been prisoners, and as we did not attempt to
draw our pistols, they shouldered their long
guns and conducted us to the officer in command.
"Look for Captain Guerez?" said the officer,




208


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


whose name I have forgotten. " He ride off
dat way!" and he pointed with his hand to the
westward. " He look for you, I tink."
This was comforting news, and I asked if
Alano's father had taken part in the attack on
Cubineta, to which I received the reply that
both the captain and all under him had taken
part and that one of the insurgents had been
killed.
"Was it his boy Alano?"
" No, man named Ciruso."
I waited to hear no more, but, thanking the
officer for his trouble, hurried off down a trail
leading to the westward, with Burnham at my
side.
We were descending a short hill, covered with
a stunted growth of brush, which tripped us up
more than once, when my companion suddenly
uttered a howl and tumbled over me in his effort
to retreat.
" What is it? " I asked.
" Spiders, or crabs, as big as your foot," he
cried. " Look! look!"  He pointed to several
holes in the sand, beside a small brook. At the
entrance to each hole sat an enormous land
crab, gray in color, with round, staring eyes,
well calculated to give anyone a good scare.
"They are only crabs, and won't hurt you,
unless you try to catch hold of them," I laughed.




LOOKING FOR MY CUBAN CHUM.


209


" Alano told me of them, and I've met them before."
" More of the beauties of this delightful country," said Burnham sarcastically.
* I advanced and stamped my foot, and instantly each crab scampered for his hole, in the
clumsy fashion all crabs have. I fancied some
of them hissed at us, but I might have been mistaken.
The brook crossed, we ascended the next hill
and entered a plantain grove where the fruit
hung in profusion on all sides. We found some
that was almost ripe, and made a refreshing
meal.
"Hullo, Mark!"
The welcome voice rang out from a grove of
oaks on the other side of the plantains. I
started, then rushed ahead, to find myself, a
minute later, in Alano's arms, with Captain
Guerez looking on, highly pleased.
"We thought you were killed!" ejaculated
my Cuban chum, when our greeting was over.
"Where on earth have you been?"
"Haven't you seen Jorge?"
"No," put in Alano's father.
"It's a long story. Let me introduce another American," and I presented Gilbert Burnham.
Sitting down in as cool a spot as we could




210


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


find, each related all he had to tell. My story is
already known.
" When you did not show up in camp I was
much worried," said the captain, "and I sent
men out at once to hurft up both you and Jorge.
During this search one of the men, Circuso, met
some of the Spanish troops, and fought desperately to escape them, but was shot and killed."
"Poor chap! " I could not help but murmur.
"Did he leave a family?"    0
" No.; he was a bachelor, without kith or kin."
"I think he might have escaped," put in
Alano, " but he was so fierce against the soldiers from Spain. He said they had no right to
come over here and fight us, and he was in for
killing every one of them."
" While the hunt for you and Jorge was going
on," continued Alano's father, " the rebel leader,
Captain Conovas, arrived and said he had instructions to attack Cubineta and make an attempt to release the prisoners at the fort. I decided to join him in the attack, at the same time
thinking you might be a prisoner with your
father.
"We operated from the south and from
across the river, and soon took possession of the
fort, only to be repulsed with a heavy loss.
Then our party withdrew to this quarter, and
here we are."




LOOCIIAO POP M  CUBAN CHUM.


2 I I


" And what of my father? " I asked anxiously.
"He was not at the fort, nor have I been able to
hear anything of him."
"The Cuban forces captured several prisoners,
and they are being held in a valley just below
here. I was on the point of journeying hither
to interview them on that point when Alano discovered you coming through the plantain
grove," answered Captain Guerez.
" Then let us go and question them now," I
cried.
The captain was willing, and off we hurried
on horseback, Burnham and myself being provided with steeds which had belonged to the
Spanish prisoners.
Riding was much more comfortable than
walking, and the road being fairly level the distance to the valley mentioned was soon covered.
Here it was found that four of the Spaniards had
died of their wounds, but there were six others,
and these Captain Guerez proceeded to examine
carefully, taking each aside for that purpose.
" Your father is en route for Santiago," he
said, when the examination was over. " When
he arrives there he is to be tried by court-martial
for plotting against the life of a certain Spanish
leader, General Gonza. If we wish to save him.
we must start after him without an instant's
delay."




CHAPTER XXX.


ONCE MORE AMONG THE HILLS.
Fortunately the road leading to the northern
shore of Santiago Bay was well known to Captain Guerez, who at one time had been a commissioner of highways in that district.
"I do not know how we will fare on this trip,"
he remarked, as we rode off only four strongthe captain, Alano, Burnham, and myself. "At
one spot we will have to pass the railroad, and I
understand that is now under strict Spanish
surveillance."
"We'll have to take matters as they come," I
returned. "We must save my father at any
cost-at least, I shall attempt to do so."
"I am with you, Mark," said the captain earnestly. "Next to my family, there is no one to
whom I am more attached."
"And I go in for helping any American," put
in Burnham.
Alano simply smiled at me. But that smile
was enough. I felt that my Cuban chum could
be depended upon to stick to me through thick
and thin.
Nightfall found us in the midst of a long
212




ONCE MORE AMONG THE HILLS.


213


range of hills, covered with a heavy growth of
oaks, cedars, and mahogany. The vines which
I mentioned before were here as thick as ever,
and in the darkness Gilbert Burnham suddenly
gave a yell and slid from the back of his horse to
the ground.
"What's the matter?" we cried in chorus.
"Matter!" he growled. "Nothing, only a
vine caught me under the chin, and I thought I
was about to be hung."
We laughed at this., but my humor was soon
short, as another vine slipped over my forehead,
taking my Panama hat with it.
After this we were more careful, fearful that
some of us might be seriously injured, and a
little later we went into camp in the midst of a
tiny clearing.
We were just finishing our supper when a
most doleful howl arose on the air, coming from
the rear and to the right of us. I leaped up and
drew my pistol, expecting to be attacked by
some wild animal.
"Here's excitement!" ejaculated the newspaper correspondent. "What can it be —a
bear?"
He had hardly finished when a perfect chorus
of howls arose, coming closer. I gazed in alarm
at Captain Guerez and Alano. My chum
laughed outright.




214


WHIEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"Don't get scared, Mark; they are only wild
dogs."
"Wild dogs!" put in Burnham. "Well that
is the worst yet! And they are not dangerous,?"
"If you met a large number of them alone
they might be," replied Captain Guerez. "But
they won't think of attacking such a party as
ours. They'll hang around until we leave and
then search the camp for stray food."
In spite of this explanation, however, Burnham insisted that a guard be kept during the
night, and we each took two hours at the task.
Before the sun had struck us from over the treetops, we had breakfast and were off. Sure
enough, the wild dogs rushed in the moment we
had left the opening. They were a lean and
ugly-looking set of curs.
"It's a terrible thing when these wild dogs
and a bloodhound on the trail meet," observed
Captain Guerez. "Of course one wild dog cannot do much, but the whole pack will fall on the
bloodhound, and in the end the larger dog will
be killed and literally torn to shreds."
A storm was approaching, but this did not
discourage us, although Burnham growled as
usual. In fact, we soon found that he was a
chronic fault-finder, but then he seldom meant
half that he said, and, taken all in all, he was
good company.




ONCE MORE AMONG THE HILLS.


215


" If the storm grows heavy it will give us a
good chance to cross the railroad tracks," remarked the captain. "The sentries will relax
their vigilance and more than likely seek shelter
under the trees."
"Won't we strike some settlement before
that?" I asked.
"Oh, yes; we are on the outskirts of Los
Hanios now."
Five minutes later we rode into a small village
occupied principally by half a hundred cattlemen, for we were now coming to the meadows
and valleys in which immense herds of cows and
sheep are pastured. The people of Los Hanios
took but little interest in the revolution, and as
a consequence had been but little molested
either by the Spaniards or Cubans, although a
portion of their cattle had been confiscated.
From one of the head cattlemen Captain Guerez learned that a body of Spaniards had passed
through the village the afternoon before bound
for Santiago. They had several prisoners, who
were tied hands and feet, and fast to the mules
which carried them. At least one of the prisoners had been un Americano.
At Los Hanios we procured dinner, a splendid meal-the best I had eaten since leaving the
steamer, for it consisted of prime roast beef done
to a turn, potatoes and beans and coffee. Burn



2i6


WHEN SANTIAGO FE~LL.


ham attended to the cooking, saying he had
cooked many a meal for himself during his Bohemian life at the "Hub," and consequently all
the dishes were turned out in true American
style, garlic and such stuff being for once
tabooed.
Yet I hurried matters, wishing to catch up
with my father as soon as possible. I wondered
if he knew I was after him., and how he was faring. I felt certain that to be bound to the back
of a mule over these rough trails could be anything but a pleasant sensation.
While we were still in sight of Los Hanios it
began to rain, and we had not made over a mile
when the downpour became very heavy. Burnham wished to take shelter under some trees,
but I would not hear of it, and Alano and his
father backed me up in my idea.
"We can rest a-plenty when Mr. Carter is
once more safe," said the captain, and that
ended the discussion.
On and on we went, until, looking ahead, we
espied a turn in the road. Beyond this was a
bank six or eight feet in height, and this was
where the railroad tracks were located.
"We had best dismount and go ahead on
foot," said the captain. "A sentry could easily
see our animals if he had his eyes about him."
"If he wasn't asleep," put in Burnham. "I




ONCE MORE AMONG THE HILLS.


21 7


fancy these Spaniards and Cubans do a lot of
sleeping whenever they get the chance."
" Not in war-times," said Alano, who did not
fancy this slur upon his countrymen.  "Of
course we are not so nervous and impatient as
some of the Americans," he added pointedly,
and Burnham took the hint and said no more on
the subject.
A fierce rattle of thunder stopped all talking
soon after. The lightning became almost incessant, and glared and flared along the railroad
tracks as far as eye could see. We came together close to a clump of berry bushes.
"Wait a moment," whispered Captain Guerez.
"I think I saw a sentry not over fifty feet away!"
At this announcement all of us crouched
down, and each looked to his weapons, feeling
that a crisis might be at hand. Alano's father
moved like a shadow up to the railroad bank.
" I was right," he announced, after a particularly bright flash of lightning; " I saw his gunbarrel plainly."
" Can we pass him? " asked Alano.
" We can try, but —"
" If he sees us why can't we make him a prisoner? " I broke in. " If we did that, we would
have a chance to bring our horses up the bank
and over the tracks."
" I was thinking as much," said the captain.




a  2i8


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


" The horses must be gotten over; that is necessary."
He deliberated for a minute, and then motioned us forward, warning us at the same time
to keep perfectly silent. On we went, to where
something of a trail led up over the railroad embankment. There were a few bushes growing
in the vicinity, and we skulked beside these,
almost crawling along the ground.
Several minutes passed, and the top of the
embankment was reached and we stood on the
glistening tracks. Down we plunged on the
opposite side, and not over a dozen paces from
where the Spanish sentry was standing.
* Halte! " came the unexpected cry, and the
man rushed forward, pointing his gun as he ran.
But for once fate was in our favor. A trailing
vine tripped him up and he went headlong.
Before the Spanish soldier could collect his
senses, or make a movement to rise, Captain
Guerez and myself were on him. The captain
sat down astride of the fellow's back, while I
secured his gun and clapped my hand over his
mouth, to keep him from calling for assistance.
A second later Alano and the newspaper man
came up, and the Spaniard was our prisoner.
"Now bring the horses over, as quickly as
possible!" said the captain to his son and Burnham. "Mark and I will guard this fellow."




ONCE MORE AMONG THE HILLS.


219


At once Alano and Burnham departed. The
prisoner struggled wildly to escape, but we held
him fast, and presently Captain Guc-rez pulled
out his sword and pointed it at the fellow's
throat.
"Not a sound, on your life! " he commanded
in Spanish, and the prisoner became mute instantly.
The sharpness of the lightning and the deafening thunder had frightened olur animals a good
deal, and Alano and the newspaper man had all
they could do to bring them up the embankment, which in one spot was quite steep. Just
as the railroad tracks were reached one of the
horses broke.away,- and with a loud snort ran
down the road, his hoofs clattering loudly on the
ties and the iron rails. Alano endeavored to
catch him, with the result that another broke
loose and went up the road in the same fashion.
"Halte!" came from half a dozen different
directions, and as if by magic as many Spanish
sentries showed themselves along the embankment. A flash of lightning revealed Alano and
Burnham, and crack! crack! crack! went three
carbines almost simultaneously. The alarm was
taken up on several sides, and soon we found the
best part of a company of Spanish soldiery
swooping down upon us.




CHAPTER XXXI.


THE BATTLE AT THE RAILROAD EMBANKMENT.
"We are lost!" cried my Cuban chum, as he
came stumbling down to where his father and I
stood, with our prisoner between us.
"We're in for it, that's a fact!" ejaculated Gilbert Burnham, as he came after Alano, bringing
the remaining two horses. "Come on, can't
we ride two on a horse and escape them?"
Captain Guerez shook his head. There was
no. time left to answer, for some of the soldiers
were already less than a score of yards away.
The captain waved his hand and ran off, followed by all of us, and leaving our late prisoner
standing with mouth wide open in amazement.
To try to go back whence we had come, and
thus expose ourselves on the top of the railroad
embankment, would have been foolhardy. Instead, the captain led the way directly into a
grove of sapodilla trees some distance up the
track.
Our Spanish pursuers called upon us to halt,
not once, but many times; and when we did not
heed their repeated commands, they opened fire
220




BATTLE A T THE EMBANKMENT.


221


in a manner which made us feel far from comfortable, for a bullet grazed the captain's hand,
and another whizzed so closely to my ear that I
nearly fell from ducking. There may be those
who can stand up coolly under fire; but I must
confess I am not one of them, and I am willing
to give a flying bullet all the room it wishes in
which to spend itself.
Hardly had we reached the grove of sapodillas than Captain Guerez swung around and began to use his own pistol in a most effective way,
wounding two of the soldiers in advance of the
main body of the Spaniards. Seeing this, the
rest of us took courage and also opened fire,
although I must confess I aimed rather low,
having no desire to kill anyone. The cracks
from our four pistols brought consternation to
our pursuers, and they halted and fell back a
dozen paces.
"Come on," whispered Captain Guerez.
"Our only hope is to lose ourselves in the
woods. The enemy outnumbers us five to
one."
Away he went again, with all of us close upon
his heels. Another volley from the Spaniards
rang out, but did no damage, as the trees and
brush now hid us from view.
We had passed along a distance of a hundred
feet when we heard a crashing in the brush com



222


WHlEN SANTIAGO FELL.


ing from a direction opposite to that being
taken by ourselves. Fearing another company
of Spanish infantry was coming up, Captain
Guerez called us to his side.
"Here is a narrow ravine, leading under the
railroad tracks," he said hurriedly. "Let us go
down into that and work our way to the other
side of the embankment."
No opposition was made, and into the ravine
we fairly tumbled, just as the soldiers came up
once more.  Bushes and stones hid us from
view, and we went on only when the thunder
rolled, that no sounds of our progress might
reach our enemies' ears.
Ten minutes later found us close to the railroad embankment. But here we came to a halt
in dismay. The ravine had been filled up by the
recent rains, so that crawling under the tracks
was out of the question.
"Now what is to be done?" asked Alano in a
low voice. "We can't stay here, that's certain."
"Some of the soldiers are coming up the ravine after us!" exclaimed Burnham a moment
later. "Hark!"
We listened, and found that he was right.
At least half a dozen of the Spaniards were advancing in a cautious manner, their guns ready
for immediate use.
"Let us climb this tree," said Captain Guerez,




BA TTLE A T THE EMBANKMENT.


223


pointing to a tall monarch of the forest, whose
spreading branches reached nearly to the opposite side of the embankment. "Be quick, all of
you!"
He leaped for the tree, and Burnham followed.
I gave Alano a boost up, and he gave me a hand;
and inside of forty seconds all of us were safe
for the time being. As we rested on the upper
branches of the tree we heard the far-away
whistle of a locomotive.
" A train is coming! " said Alano.
" If we could only board it!" I put in eagerly.
"It would carry us part of the way to Guantanamo, Wouldn't it?"
" It would-going in that direction," said
Captain Guerez, with a wave of his hand. "But
the train may be filled with Spanish soldiers, and
what then?"
The locomotive kept coming closer, and presently we heard the rattle of the cars as they
bumped over the rails, which were far.from
being well ballasted. The captain was peering
out from behind the tree branches, and he gave
a deep breath as a flash of lightning lit up the
scene.
"It is a freight train!" he exclaimed softly.
"Come down to the branch below, all of
you!"
We understood him, and one after another




224


WIHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


we dropped to the branch mentioned. It was
directly over the track upon which the freight
was pounding along, and we calculated that the
distance to the top of the tallest cars would not
be over six or eight feet.
"We can't jump with that train running at
twenty or thirty miles an hour," I said, with a
shudder. "We'll slip and be ground to death
under the car wheels."
"Mark is right-a jump is out of the question" added Gilbert Burnham. "I'd rather
risk staying here."
"The train may have supplies for the soldiers
about here and stop," whispered Captain Guerez. "Watch your chances."
On and on came the train, and in a few seconds more we realized that those in charge had
no intention of stopping in that vicinity. Yet
as the headlight came closer we lowered ourselves in readiness to make a leap.
Suddenly there was a shrill whistle, and down
went some of the brakes on the long train. I
glanced in the opposite direction from whence
the freight had come and saw on the tracks one
of our runaway horses, which stood staring in
alarm at the glaring headlight. Evidently the
engineer had been startled by the sudden appearance of the animal, and, not realizing exactly
what it was; had, on the impulse of the moment,




BATTLE A T THE EMBANKMENT.


225


reversed the locomotive's lever and whistled for
brakes.
The train could not be stopped in time to save
the beast, which was struck and sent rolling
over and over down the embankment. Then
the train went on still further, the locomotive finally coming to a halt about fifty yards
beyond the tree upon which all of us were
perched.
As it slowed up the top of one of the tall
freight cars rolled directly beneath us. Giving
the word to follow, Captain Guerez let himself
drop on the "running board," as it is termed by
train hands-that is, the board running along
the center of the top of a freight car from end to
end. All of us came after him, the quartette
landing in a row less than two yards apart. As
soon as each had struck in safety he lay down
flat, that those below the embankment, as well
as those on the train, might not have such an
easy chance to discover us.
Scarcely had the train halted than some of the
Spanish soldiers came running up to ascertain
why it had stopped. But their shouting evidently frightened the train hands, who possibly
thought a band of rebels was at hand and that
the horse on the track had been a ruse to stop
them. The engineer whistled to release brakes,
and put on a full head of steam, and on went the




226


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


train, While the Spaniards yelled in dismay and
flourished their weapons.
"By Jove! that was a move worth making!"
remarked Gilbert Burnham, after the long train
had covered at least an eighth of a mile. "We
are clear of those chaps now."
"Where will this train take us?" asked Alano
of his father.
"The next village is Comaro, but I do not
know if the train will stop," was the reply.
"Two miles further on is Los Harmona, but we
must not go there, for I understand there is a
strong Spanish garrison stationed in the village.
Let us get down between the cars and watch
our chance to spring off. If we remain here
some of the brakemen may come along and give
the alarm."
The lightning and thunder were decreasing in
violence, and the rain had settled into a thin but
steady downpour. The captain was nearest to
the front end of the freight car, and led the way
down the narrow ladder to the platform below.
Once on this, and on the platform of the car
ahead, we divided into pairs on either side and
awaited a favorable opportunity to leave the
train.
Comaro was reached and passed in the darkness, and the long freight began to pull out for
Los Harmona at a steady rate of twenty-five




BATTLE A 7' THE EMBANKMENT.


227


miles or more an hour. No chance had been
given us to jump off without great danger, and
now it began to look as if we would be carried
right into the fortified town, or further.
"Some distance below here is, unless I am
greatly mistaken, a wide patch of meadow," said
Captain Guerez. "I do not believe a leap into
the water and mud would hurt any of us very
much, and, under the circumstances, I am in
favor of taking the risk, in preference to being
carried into Los Harmona."
"If you go I will follow," I said, and Alano
said the same.
"Well, I don't intend to be left alone," smiled
Burnham grimly. "But what will we do after
we strike the meadow?;'
"The meadow is not very broad," answered
the captain, "and beyond is a highway leading
almost directly into Guantanamo. We will take
to this highway and trust to luck to get on as
originally intended. Of course the loss of our
horses is a heavy one, but this cannot be helped.
If we     Ha!"
Captain Guerez stopped short, and not without good reason. From the interior of the
freight car had come the unmistakable sounds of
human voices. We heard first two men talking,
then a dozen or more. The conversation was in
Spanish, and I did not understand it. But Alano




228        WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
and his father did, and my Cuban chum turned
to Burnham and me in high excitement.
" What do you think! " he whispered. " This
car is filled with Spanish soldiers bound for
Guantanamo! They heard us talking, and they
are going to investigate and find out where we
are and who we are!"




CHAPTER XXXII.


A LEAP IN THE DARK.
My readers can readily believe that all of us
were much alarmed at the prospect ahead. We
had not dreamed that the freight car contained
soldiers, although all of us had heard that the
Spanish Government was transporting troops
by this means wherever the railroads ran.
Alano had scarcely explained the situation,
when Captain Guerez motioned us to withdraw
from the side edges of the platforms, so that the
soldiers looking out of the broad side doors of
the car could not catch sight of us.
" We must jump as soon as the meadow appears," whispered the captain. " Be prepared,
all of you."
He had scarcely finished when we heard a
clatter of feet, and knew that one or more of the
Spaniards had crawled from a side door to the
top of the car. Then followed cautious footsteps in the direction of the rear platform.
Finding no one there, the Spanish soldiers came
forward.
"Ha!" cried one, as he espied Captain Guerez. "Who are you?"
229




230


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


" Friends," was the reply, of course in Spanish.
"Friends? And why ride out here, then?"
" We have no money, capitan. We are dirtpoor."
" And where do you intend to go?"
" Los Harmona-if the train will ever reach
there."
" What will you ~do there?"
" We may join the Spanish soldiery, capitanif you will take us."
" Ha!" The Spanish officer tugged at his
heavy mustache. He was only a sergeant, but
it pleased him to be called captain. " Why did
you not come into the car instead of sneaking
around outside? If you want to become soldiers we will take you along fast enough. But
you must not play us false. Come up here."
"I am   afraid-I may fall off," answered
Alano's father, in a trembling voice.
All the while the conversation had been carried on he had been peering sharply ahead for
the meadow and the water to appear. We now
shot out of the woods, and on either side could
be seen long stretches of swamp. He turned
to us and spoke in English. "All ready to
jump?"
" Yes," we answered in concert.
" Then jump-all together! "




A4 LEAP IN THE DARK.


231


And away we went, leaving the rude steps of
the freight cars with an impetus that took each
several yards from  the tracks.  I made a
straight leap and landed on my feet, but as
quickly rolled over on my shoulder in the wet
grass. Burnham came close to me, but took a
header, which filled his nose and one ear with
black mud. Alano and his father were on the
opposite side of the track.
A pistol shot rang out, followed by half a
dozen more, but the bullets did not reach any of
us. In a moment the long train had rolled out
of sight. We watched its rear light foPr fully an
eighth of a mile, when it disappeared around a
bend behind a bit of upland.
"Hullo, Mark, how are you?" It was the
voice of Alano, who came up on the tracks directly the freight had passed. He was not hurt
in the least. Captain Guerez had scratched one
arm on a bit of low brush, but outside of this the
entire party was uninjured.
"Come now, follow me; there is no time to
be lost," said the captain. "Those soldiers may
take it into their heads to have the train run
back in search of us."
"Yes, that's true," said Burnham. "Which
way now?"
"We'll walk back on the tracks until we reach
dry ground."




232


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


The plunge into the wet meadow had completed the work of the rain in soaking us to the
skin, but as the night was warm we did not mind
this. Keeping our eyes on the alert for more
Spanish sentries, we hurried along the railroad
embankment for a distance of several hundred
yards. Then we left the tracks and took a trail
leading southward.
Our various adventures for the past few hours
had completely exhausted Burnham, while the
others of the party were greatly fatigued. The
newspaper man was in favor of stopping under
a clump of palm trees and resting, but Captain
Guerez demurred.
"We'll reach a hut or a house ere long," he
said. "And there the accommodations will be
much better."
"Well, we can't reach a resting-place too
soon," grumbled Burnham. "I can scarcely
drag one foot after the other, and it's so close
my clothing is fairly steaming."
"You are no worse off than any of us," I
made answer, as cheerfully as I could.
The highway was a stony one, and the rains
had washed away what little dirt there was,
making walking difficult. However, we had
not very far to go. A turn brought us in sight
of a long, low house built of logs and thatched
with palm; and Captain Guerez called a halt.




A LEAP IN THE DARK.


233


"I'll go forward and investigate," he said.
"In the meantime be on guard against anybody
following us from the railroad."
He was gone less than quarter of an hour, and
on returning said it was all right. A very old
man named Murillo was in sole charge of the
house, and he was a strong Cuban sympathizer.
The place reached, we lost no time in divesting ourselves of a portion of our clothing and
making ourselves comfortable in some grass
hammocks spread between the house posts.
"We ought to start early in the morning," I
said, my thoughts still on my father.
"We will start at four o'clock," announced
Captain Guerez. "So make the most of your
rest."
The captain had intended to divide up the
night into watches, but Murillo came forward
and volunteered to stand guard.
"You go to sleep," he said in Spanish. "I
sleep when you are gone. I know how to
watch."
Feeling the old man could be trusted, we all
retired. In a few minutes Burnham was snoring, and shortly after the others also dropped
asleep.
It lacked yet a few minutes of four o'clock in
the morning when Murillo came stealing into
the house and shook everyone by the shoulder.




234


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


" Spanish soldiers down by the railroad," he
explained hurriedly. "They intend to come up
this road."
" Then let us be off!" cried Captain Guerez.
All of us were already arranging our toilets.
In a few seconds we were ready to leave, and
Murillo was paid for the trouble he had taken in
our behalf.
" Have they horses?" asked Captain Guerez;
and Murillo nodded.
"Then come, all of you!" cried Alano's
father. He started out of the door, and we
came after him. Hardly, however, had he taken
a dozen steps than he pushed each of us behind
a clump of bushes.
" Soldiers! " he muttered. "They are coming from the opposite direction! "
" We are caught in a trap! " exclaimed Alano.
"We cannot go back, and we cannot go forward."
" Here is a how d'ye do! " put in Burnham.
" I'm sure I don't want to take to those beastly
swamps."
Murillo had followed us to the doorway. His
face took on a troubled look, for he wanted us
to get away in safety.
" More soldiers coming the other way! " he
cried. "What will you do? Ah, I have it!
Come into the house at once?"




A LEAP IN THE DARK.


235


"But what will you do?" queried Captain
Guerez impatiently.
"I'll show you. Come, and you shall be safe."
The old man spoke so confidently that we followed him inside at once. Pushing aside a rude
table which stood over a rush matting, he
caught hold of a portion of the flooring. A
strong pull, and up came a trapdoor, revealing
a hole of inky darkness beneath.
"Into that, all of you!" he cried; and down
we went, to find ourselves in a rude cellar about
ten feet square and six feet deep. As soon as
the last of us was down, Murillo replaced the
trapdoor, matting, and table, and we heard him
throw off some of his clothing and leap into one
of the hammocks.
We had been left in total darkness, and now
stood perfectly still and listened intently. Not
more than three minutes passed, when we heard
the tramping of horses' hoofs on the rocky road.
The house reached, the animals came to a halt,
and several soldiers dismounted. A rough voice
yelled out in Spanish:
"Hullo, in there! Who lives here?"
"I do," replied Murillo, with a start and a
yawn, as though he had just awakened from a
long sleep.
"Have you seen anything of four strangers
around here?"




236


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


No, capitan."
There was a pause, and the leader of the soldiers came tramping inside.
" You are sure you are telling me the truth? "
" Yes, capitan."
" It is strange."
The newcomer was about to go on, when a
shout from outside attracted his attention. The
soldiers from the opposite direction had come
up. A short conference was held, of which,
however, we heard nothing distinctly. Then
some of the soldiers came inside, and we heard
their heavy boots moving directly over our
heads.
" You say you saw nobody? " was again asked
of Murillo.
" No, capitan, not a soul. But then I have
been asleep since evening. I am an old man,
and I need a great deal of rest."
" You are lazy, no doubt," came with a rough
laugh. " Andros, what do you think? "
" What should I think? There seems to be
no one around. We might make a search."
"Yes, we'll do that. It can do no harm.
Tell the other men to scour the woods and
brush."
The order was given; and a moment later
those who had first come in began to search the
house.




CHAPTER XXXIII.


CAPTAIN GUEREZ MAKES A DISCOVERY.
We listened in much consternation while the
soldiers overhead moved from one portion of the
dwelling to another. Would they discover us?
" Be prepared for anything! " whispered Captain Guerez, and they were the only words
spoken.
There was no second story to the house, so
the search through the rooms took but a few
minutes, and the soldiers came to a halt around
the table.
" I suppose you are a rebel," said the officer
abruptly to Murillo.
" I am an old man, capitan; I wish to end my
days in peace."
" I know your kind." The officer paused.
"Well, comrades, we may as well be on our
way."
These words caused me to utter a deep sigh
of relief. They had not discovered us, and now
they were going away. But the next words
sent a chill down my backbone.
"Can there be a cellar under the house?"
questioned one of the others.
237




238


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"There is no cellar," said Murillo simply.
"There is a little hole, half full of water. You
can look down if you wish."
We will."
What could it mean? We held our breath as
the old man led the way to the apartment used
as a kitchen. We heard him raise another trapdoor, some distance behind us.
" Humph! A man would be a fool to get in
there!" we heard the officer remark, and then
the trap was dropped again into place. "We
will go."
The soldiers passed through the kitchen and
toward the front door. One of them must have
taken a last look around, for suddenly he uttered
a cry.
" Ha! what is this? A collar and a tie! Do
you wear these?"
"Confound it, my collar and tie," murmured
Burnham. "I knew I forgot something."
" They belong to my nephew," said Murillo
calmly.
" Your nephew? Where is he?"
" He is now at Baiquiri at work on one of the
shipping wharves."
" He must dress well?" remarked the officer
dryly.
" Alfredo earns much money. He was educated at the college."




CAPTAIN GUEREZ MAKES A DISCOVERY. 239
The officer tapped the floor with his heavy
boot. " You tell a good story," he said. " Beware lest we find you have been lying. Come!"
The last word to his companions.
The soldiers went outside, and we heard a call
to the men sent out into the woods and brush.
A few minutes later there followed the sounds
of horses' hoofs receding in the distance.
" Now we can get out of this hole, thank
goodness!" burst out Burnham.
"Wait-Murillo will inform us when the
coast is clear," said Captain Guerez.
Fully five minutes passed before the old man
raised the trap. His face wore a satisfied smile.
" We fooled them nicely, did we not, capitan? " he said.
"' You did well, Murillo," said Alano's father.
"Here is a gold piece for your trouble."
But the old man drew back, and would not
accept the coin. "I did it not alone for you,"
he said. " Cuba libre! "
We all thanked him heartily, and then Alano's
father asked him in what directions the two
bodies of soldiers had gone. That from the
railroad had taken the highway to Canistero.
"We will have to take another road, not quite
so short," said Captain Guerez. " It is unfortunate, Mark, but it cannot be helped. Forward-!"




24o


WHENA SA TIAGO FELL.


Much refreshed by our night's rest, we struck
out rapidly, and by noon calculated that we had
covered eight miles, a goodly distance in that
hilly district. A little before noon we came out
on a clearing overlooking a long stretch of valley and swamp lands.
"Just below here is the village of San Luardo," said the captain. "It is there we ought
to find out something concerning your father.
It may be possible he is quartered somewhere in
the village, that is, if the journey to Santiago has
been delayed."
"Is the village under guard?" I questioned
anxiously, my heart giving a bound when I
thought how close to my parent I might be.
"Yes, every village in this district is under
Spanish rule."
"Then how can we get in?"
"I have been trying to form a plan," was the
slow answer. "Let us get a little closer, and I
will see what can be done."
We descended from the clearing, and just before noon reached the outskirts of the village.
The captain had been right; two companies of
freshly imported soldiers were in control of San
Luardo.
As we surveyed the situation from a bit of
woodland, we heard the heavy creaking of an
ox-cart on the stony road. Looking down we




CAPTAIN GUEREZ MAKES A DISCOVERY. 241


saw the turnout coming slowly along, loaded
with hay and straw, probably for the horses of
the Spanish soldiers.
" I will go into town in that!" cried Captain
Guerez. " Stop that fellow!" and he indicated
the driver.
A rush was made, and the ox-cart came to a
sudden halt. When the dirty fellow who drove
it saw us he turned pale, but a few words from
Alano's father soon reassured him, and he
readily consented to allow the captain to hide
himself under the hay and straw and thus pass
the guards. The driver was working for the
Spaniards, but his heart was with the insurgents.
Stripping himself of his coat and everything
else which gave him a military appearance, Captain Guerez rubbed a little dirt on his face, neck,
and hands, leaped into the ox-cart, and dove beneath the straw. If discovered, he intended to
explain that he was out of work and was willing
to do anything the Spaniards desired.
Once more the cart creaked or its way toward the village, and we were left alone. Withdrawing to a safe and cool shelter, we sat down
to rest and to await the'captain's return.
" I wish I could have gone along," I said to
my chum.
" Father can do the work better alone," re



242


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


plied Alano, who had great faith in his parent's
ability.
" Perhaps so. He wouldn't want me anyway-after the mess I made of it when I discovered Mr. Burnham."
" Mess! " cried the newspaper man. "Why,
it was through you that I escaped, my boy.
You're all right. But I fancy Captain Guerez
knows just exactly what he wishes to do, and
probably one person can do it better than two."
" The fact that you are an American would
make everyone regard you with suspicion,"
added Alano.
Two hours went by, which to me seemed a
day, and then came a peculiar whistle from the
road. At once Alano leaped to his feet.
" My father is back!" he announced, and we
ran forth to meet the captain. At first we
hardly knew him, for he had taken some grease
and some burnt cork and transformed himself
into a negro. He was out of breath, and one of
his hands was much scratched.
" I had a narrow escape," he panted. "Come
with me! There is not a moment to lose!"
Although almost out of breath, he ran off, and
we went with him through the woods and up the
side of a small hill, which course took us around
San Luardo. Not until the town was left wvell
behind did the captain stop and throw himself




CAPTAIN GUEREZ MAKES A DISCOVERY. 243


on a patch of deep grass. He was too exhausted to speak, yet he saw my anxiety and
smiled.
" Don't worry, Mark; so far your father is
safe," were his brief words.
" That's good!" I cried, with a weight lifted
from my heart, for during the wait I had conjured up any number of dreadful thoughts concerning my parent.
"Yes, so far he is safe. They have him a prisoner at San Luardo, but they intend to remove
him to Santiago before nightfall."
"Before nightfall!"  My heart seemed to
stop beating. " How will they do it? Can't
we stop them and rescue him? "
"We must rescue him," was the reply.
"That is why I hurried back. If they get him
to Santiago he will be-that is, Mark, I am
afraid you will never see him alive again."
I understood Captain Guerez only too well.
My father was doomed to die the death of a spy,
and he would be shot very shortly after his removal to the seaport town.




CHAPTER XXXIV.


THE DOGS OF CUBAN WARFARE.
In a few minutes Alano's father recovered
sufficiently to tell his story. He had entered
the village in safety, and soon put himself into
communication with several citizens who were
Cuban sympathizers.  From one of these he
had learned that my father was being kept a
prisoner in what had formerly been a cattlehouse, but which was now doing duty as a Spanish prison. No one was allowed to talk to the
prisoners, but by bribing the man who owned
the building the captain had succeeded in getting word to my father that he was around and
that I was with him, and that both of us intended
to do all in our power to effect his release.
This word having been passed to my parent,
Captain Guerez has set about perfecting a plan
whereby my father might be supplied with tools
for freeing himself, and also a pistol. But in
this work he had been discovered, and a struggle
and flight followed.  Luckily, the Spaniards
had not discovered whom he was working for in
particular, there being a dozen prisoners in the
244




THE DOGS OF CUBAN WARFARE.


245


same building, so it was not likely my parent
would suffer in consequence.
"We must watch the road to Santiago," said
Captain Guerez, when he had finished, washed
himself, and had a refreshing drink of water.
"It is our one chance."
"If only we had horses!" put in Alano.
"We must find animals, my son."
The captain spoke decidedly.  "Necessity
knows no law," and it was easy to see he intended to obtain the horses-if not in one way,
then in another. Of course I did not blame
him. To me it seemed a matter of life and
death.
As rapidly as we could, we made our way
around the hills to the Santiago road. We had
just reached it when Burnham, who was slightly
in advance, halted us and announced a camp off
to our left. Captain Guerez surveyed the situation and smiled.
"Cattle dealers," he said. "They have
brought in horses to sell to the Spanish authorities. I'll make a deal with them."
He went off, with Alano at his side. Instead
of following, Burnham and I concealed ourselves in the bushes, to watch who might pass on
the highway to the seaport town. There was
no telling when those who had my father in
custody would be along.




246


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


It was a long while before the captain and my
chum came back, but when they did each rode a
strong horse and led another behind. Burnham and I were soon in the saddle; and then all
of us felt safer, for being in the saddle would
place us in a position equally as good as that
occupied by any of our enemies.
"Look well to your pistols," said the captain.
"It may be that a sharp and wild dash will be
the only way in which Mark's father can be
rescued."
"I hope the guard having him in charge is
not too large," I answered, as I did as he suggested.
"We'll all hope that, Mark."
With pistols ready for use, we ranged up behind a heavy clump of trees and awaited the
coming of the guard from San Luardo. I was
on pins and needles, as the saying goes, and
started up at the slightest sound. For this
Burnham poked fun at me; yet he himself was
on the alert, as I could see by the way he compressed his lips and worked at the ends of his
mustache.
"Hark!" said Captain Guerez presently, and
we all sat like statues and listened. From down
the road came the tramp of a dozen or morehorses and mules.  The guard with the prisoners was advancing.  The decisive moment




THE DOGS OF CUBAN WARFARE.


247


was at hand. I swallowed a strange lump in my
throat and grasped my pistol tighter. For my
father's sake I would fight to the bitter end.
From out of a cloud of dust rode a vidette,
heavily armed and with his eyes and ears on the
alert for anything which might sound or look
suspicious. As he came nearer we drew back
behind the trees, and Captain Guerez motioned
us to absolute silence.
The vidette passed, and then the main body of
the guard came on. There were three soldiers
in front and three behind, and between rode two
prisoners on mules, both whites and evidently
Americans. I strained my eyes to their utmost,
and soon distinguished my father's familiar face
and form.
My father! The sight thrilled me to the soul,
and I had all I could do to restrain myself from
riding forth to meet him. An exclamation
came to my lips, but the hand of my chum
checked it, while a look from him told plainer
than words that he realized how I felt.
"Attention!" whispered Captain  Guerez.
"Are you all prepared to fight? I think these
guards are raw recruits, and if so a few volleys
will cause them to take to their heels."
"I am ready,"' I said grimly.
" And I," added Alano.
" You can count on me," put in Burnham.




248


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"Very well. I will take the first fellow to the
left. Alano, you take the second; Mark, you
the third; and you, Burnham, take any one in
the rear you choose."
"I'll take the middle guard," muttered the
newspaper man.
"I know you can all fire well, so aim for the
sword arm," went on the captain. "There is no
necessity for killing the fellows, unless it comes
to close quarters. Ready? Take aim-fire!"
The words "Take aim!" had been spoken
aloud, causing several of the guards to draw rein
in alarm. At the command to fire, our pistols
blazed away simultaneously, and our several
aims were so good that four of the guards
were hit, three in the arms and one in the
side.
"Forward, and fire again!" shouted the gallant captain, and out of the clearing we dashed,
discharging our weapons a second time.
The detachment of~Spanish soldiers was taken
completely by surprise. The lieutenant in command had been wounded, and when he saw us
coming from the woods he imagined we must
outnumber his men, for he gave a hasty order to
retreat, and led the way. For a third time we
fired, and scarcely had the echo died among the
hills than every one of the soldiers was going
back the way he had come, as rapidly as his




THE DOGS OF CUBAN WARFARE.


249


horse would carry him, the vidette, who had
turned also, going with them.
"Mark!" cried my father, when he saw me.
Is it possible!"
"Father!" was all I could say. With my
knife I cut the rawhide thongs which bound him
to the mule's back, and in a second more we
were in each other's arms. The other prisoner
was also released, and both were speedily provided with weapons.
"We must not lose time here-follow me!"
shouted Captain Guerez. "You can talk all
you please later on," he added to me and my
happy parent.
All of us followed him back into the woods,
and along a trail which he declared must bring
us to another seaport town, eight miles to the
east of Santiago Bay. We put spurs to our
steeds, and long before nightfall half a dozen
miles of the uneven way had been covered.
As fas as we were able to do so, my father and
I rode side by side, and never had I felt happier
than then, while he was equally pleased. As we
journeyed along I told my story from beginning
to end, and then he told his own-how he had
been captured and taken for a spy, how cruelly
he had been treated, and all. Just before he had
received Captain Guerez' message he had given
up all hope, and even while on the road he had




250


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


been fearful that the plan to rescue him would
miscarry.
"What do you think we had best do?" I
asked, after our stories were told.
"I wish to get out of the country as soon as
possible, Mark. I cannot stand the climate.
Half a dozen times I have felt as if I was going
to be taken down with the fever. That injured
leg took away a good bit of my strength."
"Can we take passage from the town to which
we are bound?"
"We can try," answered my father.
Another half-mile was covered, and we were
beginning to consider that we had made good
our retreat from the spot where the encounter
with the Spanish soldiers had occurred, when'
suddenly a deep baying broke out at our rear,
causing Alano and the captain to give a simultaneous cry of alarm.
"What is it?" asked Burnham.
"What is it!" was the answer from the
captain.  "Can't you hear?  The heartless
wretches have set several bloodhounds on our
trail!
"Bloodhounds!" we echoed.
"Yes, bloodhounds!"   ejaculated  Alano.
"Hark! there must be three, if not four, of the
beasts!"
"Will they attack us-on horseback?"




THE DOGS OF CUBAN WARFARE.      251
"Certainly-they'll fly right at a fellow's
throat."
"But how can they track us-we have not
been on foot."
" They are tracking the mules Senfior Carter
and Sefior Raymond ride," put in Captain Guerez. " Hark! they are coming nearer! In a
few minutes more they will be upon us! Out
with your pistols and fight the beasts as best you
can. It is our only hopel "




CHAPTER XXXV.


THE LAST OF THE BLOODHOUNDS.
The announcement that the bloodhounds
would soon be upon us filled me with dread. I
had had one experience with this class of beasts,
and I did not wish to have another. I looked
around at our party and saw that the others,
even to the captain, were as agitated as myself.
A Cuban dreads an unknown bloodhound worse
than a native African does a lion or an American
pioneer does a savage grizzly bear.
" Have your pistols ready! " went on the captain, when an idea came into my head like a
flash, and I turned to him.
" If they are following the mules, why not
turn the mules into a side trail? " I said. " My
father can ride with me, and Mr. Raymond can
double with somebody else."
"A   good idea!" cried Captain Guerez.
"Quick, let us try it."
In a twinkle my father had leaped up behind
me, and Alano motioned Mr. Raymond to join
him. A small side trail was close at hand, and
along this we sent the mules at top speed, cut252




THE LAST OF THE BLOODHOUNDS.  253


ting them deeply with our whips to urge them
along.
"Now to put distance between them and ourselves!" cried my father, and once more we
went on. As we advanced we listened to the
bloodhounds. In a few minutes more we heard
them turn off in the direction the mules had
taken, and their bayings gradually died away in
the distance. Then we slackened our speed a
bit, and all breathed a long sigh of relief.
"That was a brilliant idea, my boy!" said Mr.
Raymond warmly. "Mr. Carter, you have a
son to be proud of."
"I am proud of him," said my father, and he
gave my arm a tight squeeze. From that moment on, Mr. Raymond, who was a business
man from the West, became my warm friend.
It must not be supposed that we pursued
our journey recklessly. Far from it. The captain rode in advance continually, and on several
occasions called a halt while he went forward to
investigate. But nothing offered itself to block
our progress, and late that night, saddle-weary
and hungry, we came in sight of the seaport
town for which we were bound.
"I believe the bark Rosemary is in port here,"
said Mr. Raymond. "And if that is so, we
ought to be able to get on board, for I know the
captain well.'"




254


WHEN SAN TIAGO FELL.


"Then that will save us a good deal of
trouble," replied my father. " But of course we
can't go aboard openly ---the Spanish authorities wouldn't allow that."
How to get into the town unobserved was a
question. Finally Alano's father said he would
ride in as a horse dealer, taking all of our animals
with him. To disguise himself he dirtied his
face once more, and put on my hat and coat,
both rather small for him. Then driving three
of the horses before him, he went on.
We went into camp under some plantains, and
it was not until three o'clock in the morning that
Captain Guerez came back. He returned with
a smile on his face, for he had sold two of the
worst of the steeds at a good price and had in
addition found the Rosemary and interviewed
her captain.
"The captain said he couldn't do anything for
you to-night," he explained. "But to-morrow,
if it is dark, he will send a rowboat up the shore
to a rock he pointed out to me with his glass.
You are to be at the rock at one o'clock sharpif it's dark. If it is not, you are to wait until
the next night. He says to try to come on
board from the quay will only bring you to
grief."
"Good for Captain Brownley!" cried Mr.
Raymond. "I felt sure he would not go back




THE LAST OF THE BLOODHOUNDS. 255


on me. Once on board, Mr. Carter, and the
three of us will be safe."
"There is, therefore, nothing to do but to
wait," went on Captain Guerez. " I shall see
you safe off, and then return to Father Anuncio's convent with Alano and join the rest of my
family once more."
As soon as it was light we rode and tramped
through the woods and the swamps to the seacoast, where it did not take long to locate the
rock the captain of the Rosemary had pointed
out to Captain Guerez. This accomplished, we
retired to a near-by plantain grove, there to eat
and rest, and spend a final day together.
The thought of parting with my chum was a
sad one, yet I felt it my duty to remain with my
father. Alano was also affected, and often
placed his brown hand affectionately on my
shoulder while we conversed.
" Let us both hope that this cruel and senseless warfare will soon cease, and that Cuba will
be free," I said.
"Yes, Mark, and that we will soon be together again," he replied. " I hope your journey proves a safe one; and when you get back
you must remember me to all of the other
boys."
"I'll do it; and you must remember me to
your mother and your two sisters," I said.




256


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


With it all, however, the day passed somewhat slowly, for we were impatient to see what
the night would bring forth. The sun set
clearly, and soon the heavens were bespangled
with countless stars.
Mr. Raymond shook his head. "Captain
Brownley won't risk coming to-night," he remarked. " They could easily spot a boat from
the town shore, it is so clear."
But about ten o'clock it began to cloud over,
and at eleven it started to rain, a gentle but
steady downpour. Not a star remained, and out
on the water it was as dark as Erebus.
"A kind Providence is with, us!" cried my
father. " We could not possibly imagine a better night."
Slowly the time wore on, until Captain Guerez' watch indicated ten minutes to one. We
sat close beside the rock, paying no attention to
the rain, although it was gradually soaking us
to the skin.
" Here they come! " whispered my father, and
a few seconds later a rowboat containing four
sailors loomed up through the darkness. As
silently as a shadow the boat glided up past the
rock and into the swamp grass.
" On time, I see," said Mr. Raymond, as he
advanced. " Is Captain Brownley here? "
"No, he's watching at the ship, and will give




THE LAST OF THE BLOODHOUNDS. 257


us the signal when to come aboard," replied one
of the sailors, who was in command. "Come
aboard, if you are ready, sir."
"We are," said my father.
There was a short but affectionate good-by
on both sides. Captain Guerez wrung my hand
tightly, and I gave Alano a warm squeeze.
Then Mr. Raymond, Burnham, father, and
myself stepped into the rowboat, and the sailors
pushed off with their long oars. In another instant the craft swung clear of the shore and was
turned in the direction from whence we had
come. I was going to cry out a last parting to
my chum, when the sailor sitting nearest
checked me.
"Be silent, my lad; if we're discovered we'll
all be shot."
"Yes," put in my father, "don't make a
sound. Leave everything to thes'e men. They
have their instructions and know what they are
doing."
On and on over the Bay of Guantanamo
glided the rowboat. The rain still came down,
and if anything the-night was blacker than ever.
I wondered how the sailors could steer, until I
saw one of them consulting a compass which lay
in the bottom of the craft, looking it by the rays
of a tiny dark-lantern.
I reckoned that the best part of half an hour




258


WHEN SANTIA GO FELL.


had gone by, when the sailors rested on their
oars, while one took up a night-glass. For
five minutes he waited, then put the glass
down.
"It's all right," he whispered.  "Let fall.
No noise now, on your life! "
Forward went our craft again, and now I noticed that each oar was bound with rubber at the
spot where it touched the rowlock, to keep it
from scraping. Thus we moved onward in absolute silence.
From out of the darkness we now saw a number of lights, coming from the town and the
shipping. A few minutes later we ran up to the
dark hull of a large vessel. A rope ladder was
thrown down to us, and a sailor whispered to us
to go up. We followed directions as rapidly as
we could, and once on the deck we were hurried
below, while the rowboat was swung up on the
davits.
"Ah, Mr. Raymond, glad to see you!" said
Captain Brownley, a bluff New Englander, as he
extended his hand. " A fine night to come on
board." And then he turned to us and we were
introduced.
The Rosemary was bound for Philadelphia,
but would not sail for three days. She was
under strict Spanish watch, so it was necessary
for us to keep out of sight. We were locked in




THE LAST OF THE BLOODHOUNDS.  259


a stateroom, but made as comfortable as circumstances permitted.
From time to time during the three days the
captain came to us with various bits of news.
One was to the effect that the Spanish detachment which had had my father and Mr. Raymond in charge had reported a-conflict with a
Cuban force fifty or sixty strong. Another was
that the United States had declared war upon
Spain and was going to bombard Havana.
"I wonder if it is true that we are to fight
Spain?" I said to Burnham. "What do you
think?"
"We ought to fight Spain," answered the
newspaper man. "Cuba deserves her freedom,
and if she can't help herself against Spanish imposition and brutality we ought to give her a
friendly hand."
We talked the matter over at some length; but
neither of us knew the truth-that war was
really declared, and that not Havana, but Santiago, was to be attacked by the time the year
was half over.
At last came the hour when the ship's anchors
were hove apeak and the sails were set.  We
sailed at high noon, and, having a good wind,
soon passed outside of Guantanamo Bay, which,
as my readers may know, is situated but a few
miles to the eastward of Santiago Bay.




26o


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"Free at last!" cried my father, as he came
on deck to get the fresh air. "I must say I am
not sorry to leave Cuba-since the times have
grown so troublesome."
He had scarcely spoken when a small Spanish
revenue cutter hove in sight, steaming down the
coast evidently from  Santiago Bay.  While
Captain Brownley was examining the craft,
there was a flash of fire, and a dull boom
sounded over the water.
"Great Scott! What does that mean?" demanded Burnham, leaping up from his seat near
the rail.
" It's an order to heave to," answered Captain
Brownley grimly. "We are not yet out of the
woods, it would seem."
"Then that means for us to get out of sight
again," said my father, and, as the captain
nodded, the four of us ran for the companionway, descended to the cabin, and secreted ourselves in the cabin pantry.
Five minutes later the Spanish revenue cutter
steamed alongside, and we heard the tramp of
half a dozen strange pairs of feet on the deck
above.




CHAPTER XXXVI.


CAST INTO A SANTIAGO DUNGEON.
Those fellows evidently mean business,"
whispered Mr. Raymond, as an angry discussion drifted down to us. " Is it possible they
got wind that we are on board?"
" Let us hope not," shuddered my father.
"Hist! they are coming down into the cabin!"
After this we remained as quiet as mice,
hardly daring to breathe. We heard loud talking, partly in Spanish and a few words in very
bad English. "I know they are here," growled
one Spaniard. "We shall make a large hunt,
capitan."
"If you insist, I cannot help myself," answered Captain Brownley. "But it is a most
unusual proceeding."
At this the Spaniard muttered something in
his own language. He began to hunt in one direction, while his followers hunted- in another.
Soon two of the men came to the pantry and
forced the door. We tried to escape observation, but could not manage it, and were ordered
forth at the point of several long pistols.
Sa6




262


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"Ha! as I suspected! All Americanos!"
muttered the Spanish commander of the revenue cutter. "A fine haul! A fine haul, indeed!"
Then turning to his second in command he
issued orders that some irons be brought on
board. At the same time a dozen Spanish marines from the cutter were formed in line, with
loaded carbines, to cover the crew of the Rosemary.
" I place all of you under arrest," said the
Spanish captain. " You "-pointing to my
father, Burnham, Mr. Raymond, and myself"as spies; and you and your men "-this to
Captain Brownley-"as enemies of Spain, assisting these spies to escape."
In vain Captain Brownley tried to argue the
matter. The Spanish commander would not
listen to a word. " The Yankee pigs have declared war on us! " he burst out at last. "Now
let them take care of themselves."
"Then war is really declared?" came from
several of us simultaneously.
" Yes, war has been declared. More than
that, we have already whipped the Yankee pigs
who dared to attack our noble ships in the Philippines," said the Spaniard bombastically.
But, as all American boys know, the Spaniard
was mistaken. The American squadron under




CAST INTO A4 SANTIAGO DUNGEON.   263


Commodore, afterward Admiral, George Dewey,
was not defeated. Instead, it gained a most
glorious victory, some of the particulars of
which will be related in a volume to follow this,
of which more later.
The news was staggering, and while we talked
it over among ourselves, each of us was handcuffed, I being linked to Mr. Raymond, while
my father was linked to Burnham. Captain
Brownley and his first mate were also handcuffed, and the sailors were told to obey the
Spanish captain's orders or run the risk of being
shot down.
The announcement that a naval battle had
been fought in the Philippines seemed to worry
Mr. Raymond a good deal. "I wonder if
Oliver knows anything of this?" he half muttered.
"Oliver, who is he?" I asked.
"Oliver is my son," answered the merchant.
"He took a trip to China a year ago, and from
there went to Manila, the principal city of the
Philippines. I haven't heard of him for a number of months now. He is perhaps a year older
than you."
"I never heard much of the Philippines," I
answered. "I know they are a good way offsomewhere between Australia, the Hawaiian
Islands, and China. Do they belong to Spain?"




264


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


"Yes, but she is having as much trouble to
-hold them as she is having to hold Cuba."
We were now ordered to keep silent, and
compelled to march from the cabin of the Rosemary to the deck of the Spanish vessel. Here
we were made to stand in a line, our weapons
having previously been taken from us. The
course of the sailing vessel had been eastward
toward Cape Maysi, but now both craft were
headed westward.
" I'll wager we are bound for Santiago," murmured Burnham, who stood beside me, and he
was right, for in a little over an hour the narrow
entrance to Santiago Bay came into view, with
Morro Castle, a famous old fortress, standing
high upon the rocks to the right.
The bay is several miles long, and Santiago
stands well in on the northeast shore. The
land-locked harbor was alive with vessels, but
not one of them floated the familiar Stars and
Stripes of our own country.
"There is where we made our way across the
bay when first Alano Guerez and I escaped from
Santiago," I whispered. " I am afraid I'll not
get another such chance now."
Soon one of the numerous docks in front of
the city was reached, and we were marched
ashore. The news of our capture had spread,
and a large crowd of curiosity-seekers gathered,




CAST INTO A SANTIAGO DUNGEON. 265


to jeer and pass all sorts of unpleasant remarks.
The city was now under stricter Spanish rule
than ever before, and as we marched from the
dock to the city prison not another American
was to be seen.
At the prison a brief examination was held.
When it was learned that my father was present,
I was thrust aside and told that he could speak
for me. Yet he was allowed to say but little.
The authorities were certain that he, Burnham,
and Mr. Raymond were spies, and the four of us
were sentenced to confinement in another prison
several squares away-a low, dingy pile of stone,
every opening of which was heavily barred and
grated.
Within this prison came the hardest parting
of all. I was separated from my father, and,
when I remonstrated, received a sharp blow on
my shoulder from a jailer's sword. Mr. Raymond and I were paired off as before, and conducted through a long stone passage-way and
down a dirty flight of steps. Sunshine and fresh
air were left behind, and the way was lit up by a
smoky kerosene lamp. We were taken to a
dungeon cell several feet below the sidewalk and
locked in, and then our jailer left us.
I was too overcome to speak when we were
left alone. Mr. Raymond strained his eyes and
peered around at the four bare walls, the bare




266


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


ceiling overhead, and the stone flooring with its
water pitcher and heap of musty straw in one
corner.
"This is awful!" he murmured.   "Mark,
how long do you think you can stand living in
this place?"
"No longer than I have to!" I cried. "I'll
get out just as fast as ever I can."
"If we ever do get out!" he concluded significantly.
The remainder of the day passed slowly. For
supper the jailer brought us some stale bread
and some more water, no fresher than that
already in the pitcher. That night I did not
sleep a wink.
I expected that another examination would
be held the next day, or, at the latest, within a
week; but I was doomed to disappointment.
No one but the jailer came near us, and he only
to bring us our bread and water and occasionally a stew of ill-flavored meat and potatoes,
reeking with garlic. Of this both of us tried
bits of the potatoes, and sometimes mouthfuls
of the meat, but it was all we could do to choke
them down.
"How long is this to last?" I asked Mr. Raymond one day, as both of us walked up
and down the narrow cell like two caged animals.




"AN ANVFI:I, CRASU THAT '10 Fiji, SOUNDLI) LIKE THL CRACK
OF DOON1. II




I




CAST INTO A SANTIAGO DUNGEON.    267
"God alone knows, Mark," he answered.
"If there is no change soon I shall go mad!"
"It is inhuman!" I went on. "A Christian
would not treat a dog like this."
"They are very bitter against us Americans,
Mark. Now the United States have declared
war against them, they must realize that Cuban
freedom is assured."
Another week went on, and then we were
taken up into the prison yard. Here I saw my
father,-thin, pale, and sick,-but I was not permitted to converse with him. We were placed
in two rows with a hundred other prisoners, and
inspected by General Toral, the military governor of Santiago and surrounding territory.
After the inspection we went back to our various dungeon cells; and many weary weeks of
close confinement followed.
One day a curious booming reached our ears,
coming from we knew not where. I heard it
quite plainly, and called Mr. Raymond's attention to it.
"It is the discharging of cannon," he said.
"And it is not a salute either," he added, as the
booming became more rapid and violent.
It was not until long afterward that I learned
the truth, that a fleet of Spanish warships commanded by Admiral Cervera had been "bottled
up" in Santiago Bay by our own warships




268


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


under Admiral Sampson and Commodore
Schley, and that the Yankee gunners were now
trying what they could do in the way of bombarding Morro Castle and the ships which lay
hidden from them behind the mountains at the
harbor's entrance.
The booming of cannon kept up for several
hours and then died away gradually, but a few
days later the bombardment was continued.
We now felt certain that a battle of some sort
was on, and Mr. Raymond questioned the jailer.
"The Yankee pigs will be well whipped,"
growled the fellow, and that was all we could get
out of him.
Again the days lengthened into weeks, and
nothing of importance happened-to us. But
in the outside world great events were taking
place.  The entrance to Santiago Bay was
being blockaded by the vessels under Sampson's
command, and an army of invasion was gathering at Tampa, Fla., to land on the southeastern
coast of Cuba and attack Santiago from the rear.
The army of invasion, under command of General Shafter, was sixteen thousand strong, and
left Tampa in between thirty and forty transports.
A landing of the army was effected at Baiquiri and other points, and here General Shafter
consulted with General Garcia, and it was de



CAST INTO A SANTIAGO DUNGEON. 269


A.


cided that about three thousand Cuban troops
should co-operate with the United States forces.
Among the Cuban troops was the company commanded by Alano's father; and my chum, let me
add right here, was in the fight from start to
finish.
The Spanish authorities now saw what the
Americans were up to, and without delay Santiago was fortified from end to end. Every
road leading from the city was barricaded with
logs and earthworks, and barriers of barbed wire
were strung in various directions. Thousands
of Spanish troops had been gathered in the
vicinity, and these were hurried to San Juan
Hill, El Caney, and other points of vantage just
outside of Santiago proper.
As the American forces advanced closer and
closer to the city Admiral Cervera became anxious for the safety of his fleet. He knew that if
Santiago was captured there would be nothing
left for him to do but to try to escape from the
bay, and that would mean to go forth and fight
the American warships stationed on the blockade beyond Morro Castle.
One day the jailer came in evidently much depressed. We had expected the usual stew that
day, but got only a chunk of dry bread. "And
you are lucky to get even so much," said the
Spaniard, as he hurried out.




270        WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.
" Something has gone wrong," remarked Mr.
Raymond, as he translated the fellow's words to
me. " I begin to believe that Santiago is suffering some sort of an attack."
He had hardly spoken when the dull booming of cannon broke once more on our ears. It
was a strange sound, and I threw myself down
on our straw bed to listen.
I was half in a doze,-dreaming of my school
days at Broxville,-when suddenly came an
awful crash that to me sounded like the crack of
doom, and the dungeon was filled with pieces of
stone, dirt; and cement, and a thick smoke that
all but choked us. Mr. Raymond was hurled
flat on top of me, and for the space of several
seconds neither of us could speak or move.




CHAPTER XXXVII.


THE FALL OF THE SPANISH STRONGHOLD.
"Wha-what does this mean?" I managed
to gasp at last.
"The dungeon has been struck by a shell!"
answered Mr. Raymond, breathing with difficulty. '"There is a bombardment going on!" 
"But we may be killed!"
"Let us trust not, Mark.  Are you hurt
much?"
"I have a cut in my cheek, and another in my
left arm."
"And I have a bad bruise in the right leg,"
answered my fellow prisoner. " But still —
Oh, Mark, look! The sunshine!"
Mr. Raymond broke off short and pointed upward. He was right. The shell which had
torn up the sidewalk above us had left a hole in
the dungeon ceiling nearly a foot in diameter.
"Can we get out?" I burst out eagerly.
"Perhaps —but the city is in the hands of our
enemies."
"I don't care," I went on recklessly. "Anything is better than staying here."
"That is true." Mr. Raymond arose and
97i




272


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


measured the distance from the hole to the cell
floor. "It's all of ten feet, Mark."
"Let me balance myself on your shoulders,"
I said, and now my athletic training at the
military school stood me in good stead. Mr.
Raymond raised me up into the air, and I
caught the edge of the hole with ease.
Yet to pull myself up was no mean task. But
I worked desperately, and finally found myself
on the pavement. Crowds of people were rushing hither and thither, and no one paid any attention to me. Slipping off my jacket, I let
down one sleeve.
"Take hold of that, and I'll pull you up!" I
cried to Mr. Raymond; and he did as bidden,
and soon stood beside me.
A guard was now running toward us, and as
he came on he discharged his Mauser rifle, but
the bullet flew wide of its mark. " Halte! " he
yelled, but we did nothing of the sort, but took
to our heels and ran as if the very Old Nick was
after us. Our course soon took us into a crowd
of Cubans, and leaving these we made our way
into a street which was little better than an alleyway for width. Finding the door of a house
wide open, we slipped into the building and hid
ourselves in an apartment in the rear.
All day long the tumult continued, but we
could not learn what it was about, excepting




FALL OF THE SPANISH STRONGHOLD. 273
that a force of American soldiers were advancing upon El Caney and San Juan. " If our
forces take those hills," said Mr. Raymond,
" Santiago is doomed, for the heavy artillery and
siege guns can knock down every building
here."
" Then I hope we get out before the hills are
taken," I answered.
We remained in the building all day, and during that time I managed to scrape up a loaf of
bread and the larger part of a knuckle of ham,
besides several cocoanuts. On these we lived
for the next twenty-four hours, and we had
more than many starving Cubans still staying in
the doomed city.
As we waited for nightfall I wondered how
my father was faring. It was not likely that the
prison had been struck more than once. Probably he was still in his dungeon cell. Oh, if only
I could get to him and liberate him!
But Mr. Raymond shook his head at the idea.
"You would only be captured yourself, Mark.
Better try to escape with me to the American
camp. If Santiago is taken, your father will be
sure to be liberated sooner or later."
I thought it over, and decided to accept his
advice. We left the building at eleven o'clock.
The moon was shining, but it had been raining
and the clouds were still heavy in the sky.




274


WHEN SANTIAGO PEELL.


As silently as possible we stole along one
street and then another until the outskirts of
Santiago were reached. Once we met a detachment of Spanish soldiery, but avoided them by
crouching behind an abandoned barricade until
they had passed.
The hardest part of our task was still before
us-that of getting beyond the Spanish picket
line. On and on we went, but now much
slower, for we felt that we were running not only
the risk of capture but the risk of being shot
down without warning.
At four o'clock in the morning we felt we
could go no further for the present and climbed
into the limbs of a mahogany tree. We had
been sitting here several hours when suddenly a
fierce rattle of musketry rang out. It was the
attack of General Lawton's infantry upon El
Caney. The attack had but fairly opened, when
we saw the pickets around us ordered forward
and then to the right. The way was now open
for us to escape, and, descending to the ground,
we hurried on, through the brush and over the
rocks, carefully to avoid any well-defined trail
which the Spaniards might be covering.
An hour of hard traveling brought us to a valley to the north of El Caney, and here we encountered a body of several hundred Cuban
soldiers.




PALL OF PdE SPANISt STRONOHOLD. 27S


" Mark! " came the cry, and a moment later I
found myself confronted by Alano, while Captain Guerez sat on horseback but a short distance away.
Now was no time to compare notes, and soon
both Mr. Raymond and myself were supplied
with guns taken from several of the enemy that
had died on the field of battle. Then, with
a good-by to Alano, I set off for the American
forces, accompanied by Mr. Raymond.
The gallant attacks upon El Caney and San
Juan hills are now matters of history. All know
how the brave boys of the American army were
repulsed several times, only to dash to the very
tops of the hills at last, carrying all before them,
and causing the Spaniards to fall back to the intrenchments before Santiago.
We had fallen in. with a body of Regulars sent
to Cuba from the West, and I think I can safely
say that I never fought harder in my life than
on that day, and on the day following, when the
Spaniards tried to drive us from the position we
had gained on the top of El Caney Hill. I was
in the very front in the final attack, and when
it was all over discovered that I had received a
severe wound in the left arm, one from which I
have not fully recovered to the present time.
The hills were now ours, and everywhere
along the American lines it was felt that San



276


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


tiago was doomed. This was on the 2d of July.
On the 3d, early in the morning, Admiral
Cervera attempted to escape with his fleet from
Santiago Bay by running the gantlet of United
States warships stationed outside. It was Sunday, and in less than fifteen minutes after his
first vessel appeared around the rocks of Morro
Calstle, one of the fiercest naval battles of history was on. The Spanish admiral had four
powerful fighting ships and two torpedo-boat
destroyers, but they were no match for the warships under gallant Commodore Schley, who
was in command during Admiral Sampson's absence. The enemy tried to escape by running
along the shore westward, but the fire from our
side was too heavy; and in less than three hours
the battle was over, and all of the Spanish ships
were either sunk or run ashore, and over seven
hundred men were taken prisoner. The loss
to the Americans was but one man killed and
no ship seriously injured!
What a cheer went up when the news of the
Spanish fleet's destruction reached the soldier
boys! The hooraying lasted the best part of the
day, and many of the soldiers cut up like a lot of
schoolboys just out of school. It was a scene I
shall never forget.
Admiral Cervera had aided the Spanish army
in the attack on our forces, by throwing shells




FALL OF THE SPAAISH STRONGHOLD. 277


over Santiago into our ranks. Now he was
gone, Santiago was even more defenseless than
ever, and General Shafter immediately sent
word to General Toral that unless he surrendered the American artillery would bombard the
city.
There were several days of delay, and finally
the Spanish general, seeing how useless it would
be to continue the fight, agreed to surrender
under certain conditions. These conditions
were not accepted, and another wait of several
days took place- a time that to me seemed an
age, so anxious was I to get word concerning
my father's welfare.
At last, on the I4th of July, General Toral
gave up the struggle, and three days later the
American troops marched into the city and
hoisted the glorious Stars and Stripes over the
civic-government building.
It was a grand time, never to be forgotten.
As our boys came in the soldiers of Spain went
out, giving up their arms as they left. Twentyfour hours later, I received an order which permitted me to call upon my father and Burnham.
"Mark! alive and well!" burst from   my
parent's lips on seeing me. "They said you
were dead-that a shell had killed you."
"That shell did not kill me; it gave me my
liberty," I answered, and told my story, to which




278


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


my father and Burnham listened with keen
interest. My father was much broken in health,
and as soon as I could I had him removed to a
hotel, where care and good food soon restored
him to his accustomed vitality.
The Cuban troops, as a body, were not permitted to come into Santiago at once, the
authorities fearing a riot between them and the
Spaniards, but Alano and his father visited us,
and a joyous reunion was had all around.
"Cuba will be free now," said Captain Guerez. "If Spain knows when she has enough,
she will now bring this war to a close."
Alano's father was right; the Santiago campaign was the first and last to be fought by the
American troops on Cuban soil, and soon after
Spain asked that a peace commission be appointed to settle the matter without further
appeal to arms. This was done; and the war
ceased. Cuba was granted her absolute freedom, with the United States to protect her until
all internal difficulties were settled and she was
fully able to manage her own affairs.
Alano and his father remained in the Cuban
army, and were later on stationed but a short
distance away from the plantation owned by
Captain Guerez. Thus they were near their
home and able to visit constantly the other
members of the family, who at that time re



FALL OF THE SPANISH STRONGHOLD. 279


turned to the plantation. Burnham remained
in Santiago, reporting constantly for the newspaper he represented.
Two months after my father was released
from prison we set sail for the United States.
Mr. Raymond accompanied us, and we made
the trip in the Rosemary, under our former
friend Captain Brownley, who had succeeded,
though not without much difficulty, in having
both himself and his vessel released.
"How good to be back home again!" I cried,
as we stepped ashore. "Foreign countries are
all well enough, but as for me" —give me our own
United States every time!"
"You are right, Mark," answered my father.
"There is no better place on earth to live than
in our own dear native land."
Here I bring to a close my story of adventures in Cuba during the Cuban-Spanish conflict and the Spanish-American campaign. I
had seen many startling happenings, and was, as
told above, heartily glad to sail away and leave
the Queen of the Antilles to carve out her future
without my aid.
During my confinement with Mr. Raymond I
had become much interested in that gentleman
and what he had to say concerning his son
Oliver, then supposed to be at Manila, where




280


WHEN SANTIAGO FELL.


the first naval battle of our war with the Dons
had occurred. As a matter of fact, Oliver Raymond had been with the Asiatic squadron when
the fight came off, and the news he sent to his
father was truly interesting. But I will let him
tell his own tale in another volume, to be entitled "A Sailor Boy with Dewey; or, Afloat in
the Philippines," after which I will expect to be
with my readers again in still another story to
be called " Off for Hawaii; or, the Mystery of
a Great Volcano."
And now for the present, kind reader, goodby and good luck to you.


THE END.




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