Just at that moment, two dust-covered troopers rode up the ravine from the direction of Havana.
They dismounted before the captain, talking with him in quick murmurs.
“My colonel,” called the captain, saluting one of the mounted officers, “the scouts tell me that there are none of the enemy within forty miles.”
“I do not believe there are any rebels nearer, captain,” laughed the colonel. “So let your poor fellows get some of the rest they need so badly. True, we have no breakfast to offer them, but I have caught sight of a stream through the trees. Let those who would like to take a swim.”
No proposition could have met with greater favor. As with one accord, the soldiers began to move off between the trees, while the scouts cantered away.
“You four,” cried the captain, selecting a quartette of his men, “will hurry up with your swim, and return here to relieve the sentinels, that they, too, may have a plunge.”
With the men went their officers, nine in number. The heat of the day made cold water a luxury that could not be resisted.
Down in the camp, with the horses and stacked arms, remained only the four sentinels.
Even these looked wistfully through the trees as the shouts and plashing of water came to their ears.
“Jupiter!” whispered Hal, his eyes beginning to sparkle. “I’m beginning to feel some of the Cuban hot blood myself.”