A moment later a score of dark-visaged Nicaraguans, with rifles ready for instant use, appeared and took up their position at the edge of the little woods, several of them falling flat under the very tree in which the two girls were perched.
Mabel uttered an exclamation as the first volley was fired by these newcomers. In spite of the fact that she was prepared for it, the sharp reports of the weapons had wrung a cry of surprise from her. Shirley, more calm, uttered no sound.
The girls could now see that the men beneath them were a part of President Garcia’s force, for they were shooting over the heads of their companions, apparently in an effort to cover the retreat of the main body.
The latter now retreated more rapidly and at length joined forces with the men beneath the trees. Shirley and Mabel could hear their conversation plainly, but as it was carried on in Spanish, they could not make out the trend of it.
For perhaps fifteen minutes President Garcia’s men held their position, firing at the enemy from the shelter of the trees.
The plight of the two girls was much more serious than either realized, for a chance bullet was likely to hit one of them at any moment. And yet they felt safer in the tree than they would have felt among the soldiers on the ground.
So far the enemy had contented themselves with lying flat on the ground some distance away and firing at the trees, but now, as Shirley perceived by peering across the plain, they were preparing for a charge.
A moment later there was a wild yell, and they came forward on the run. They spread out as they came on, and here and there a man fell over, struck down by a rifle bullet.
In spite of their great danger both girls became lost in wonder at the sight, and stared ahead with straining eyes. Shirley was brought to herself by the sound of something buzzing past her head. She knew in a moment what is was.
“Mabel!” she cried. “Climb as high as you can or we shall be shot!”