In the mean time everything was in commotion ashore. Two more shots were fired, and flashes of the guns proved that a squad had turned out and had crossed the bridge in hot pursuit. Then I blessed the wise forethought that had led me to construct the raft. Certainly it had saved me, for they would surely search the jungle.
During the fearful excitement I had forgotten all about the sharks. In the darkness I had given all my attention to trying to get a glimpse of the wharf. Suddenly, near me in the calm and awful stillness, there sprang out of the dark waters a large fish which fell back with a splash.
My heart stood still and my blood seemed to freeze, for to my horror I fancied I saw the black fins of numberless sharks cutting the water. I saw myself dragged down into the awful depths and torn limb from limb, by the fierce and hungry monsters. I gave up hope and ceased my swimming, expecting every minute to see the water churned into angry foam by the furious sharks. Instinctively I placed my hand on the knife I had thrust through the lapel of my coat for just such an emergency, but strength and courage were all gone and my nerveless hand could not draw it out. It seemed a long time that I waited, half dazed, for death, which I hoped when it came would be swift.
Then I began swimming again, but in a hopeless way. My nerve was all gone. I fancied I was ringed around with the black-finned devils, and thought I could discern the currents from their waving tails; but I kept on swimming, pushing my raft before me, until suddenly I was thrilled through by my foot striking the bottom.
Making a rush for the shore, and once there, heedless of the fact that I was in the rear of the houses, I fell down in the sand, weak and panting, and there I lay until strength enough to walk came to me. Then, taking my baggage from the raft, and cutting the cords that bound it together, I started on. Courage and confidence soon came back, and I kept steadily on for three hours, passing several small salt water inlets, but no fresh water to fill my now empty bottle.
At the first sign of day I went just within the border of the jungle, and lying down was soon asleep, and sleeping soundly, too, for waking I found the sun high in the heavens, and, looking at my watch, saw it was 9 o'clock. At the same time I discovered that I was hungry, with no food save a small piece of dried beef and not a drop of water in my bottle.
The salt water lagoon, or inlet, where I had my adventure of the previous night was marked on my map as a river, but it was not. However, I did not worry over the water question, as I knew I was near the hilly country surrounding the town of Alguizor, an important military headquarters, and I was confident of soon meeting some creek flowing from the hills. As for food, there were to be found in the dense jungle, where the soil was moist and wet, the holes of the nut crabs. They were large and fat—that is, appeared to be fat—and I knew that with plenty of them in the jungle I should not suffer from hunger.
Before starting inland for the day I turned to look at the blue waters rippling under a light breeze, and glancing in the sun, only a few yards away, I smiled to think of the phantoms my fears had conjured up, but for all that I resolved that no more night swims in the sea should find place in my programme.
I made my way with difficulty through the tangled woods, but had gone nearly a mile before I came to the road. After a cautious survey from my shelter, I stepped out on it, and looking away to the west I saw cultivated hills with teams and people moving about; I also saw the road became two—the right-hand one led away from the coast into the hills, the one to the left continued to skirt the beach. Both roads were well traveled, and I knew I was near the tobacco belt, which is cultivated throughout its entire length, from the Gulf to the Caribbean Sea, for a breadth of twenty miles, its western border touching the province of Pinar del Rio. Forty miles beyond that border the rebels held the town of San Cristoval, but I had made up my mind to follow the coast until I reached the hamlet and harbor of Rio de San Diego, fifty miles south from San Cristoval, then to strike north to the town of Passos, twenty miles west of San Cristoval. Once past San Diego, I would be well within the rebel lines, and could safely show myself, although I determined not to do so voluntarily until I was at Passos.
The roundabout way I was traveling doubled the distance, but, aside from getting outside the lines of the Spanish patrols, I was in no particular hurry, and my mode of life was hardening and fitting me for the service in which I was to embark. I counted upon taking ten days, or rather nights, to reach San Diego, and five from there to Passos, where I would make myself known to the rebel chiefs as an American volunteer in the cause of Cuban liberty. And, I thought, what a change of scene for Mr. F. A. Warren. From the Bank of England to a volunteer in a rebel camp in Cuba!