A scanty breakfast was speedily despatched, and he walked out to inspect his surroundings. Mindful of what Gilberto had told him about the enemy, he was careful how he exposed himself, and at the first sign of anything suspicious he ran to cover.
Thus the day passed away slowly. In vain he tried to make out some of the warships far out at sea. To his naked eye they were but specks on that ceaseless tide which glared like molten lead in the fierce rays of the sun.
On the following night the youth underwent a curious experience. He had just thrown himself down to rest when, without warning, the cave was filled with a light that was dazzling. Thinking a fire must have suddenly descended upon him, he leaped up, when, as silently as it had come, the light disappeared.
"Now, what in the world does that mean?" he asked himself, and started for the cave opening, when, swish! the light came back, almost blinding him. Then he understood it all.
"It's a searchlight from one of our ships!" he cried, half aloud. "If only they could see me and take me on board!" He watched for the light to reappear, but it never showed itself again, being trained upon Morro Castle and the entrance to Santiago Harbor.
On the third day in the cave Walter's stock of provisions gave out. No one had come near him, and the loneliness of his situation was maddening.
"I can't stand this any longer," he mused. "I must get out, if only to hunt for something to eat."
Fortunately for him, Gilberto had left him a pistol and several rounds of cartridges. To be sure, the weapon was an old-fashioned affair, but it was better than nothing, and soon the youth was out in the woods to the rear of the rocks trying to scare up something to shoot.
The woods had been well ransacked by both Spaniards and Cubans, but several hours' hunt yielded two birds, besides some half-ripe plantains and some nuts. Walter was about to return to the cave to cook the birds when from a distance he heard loud shouting, and presently came the rapid discharge of firearms.
"A battle of some kind is on," he thought, and ran to where he had discovered an ox-cart trail. He had scarcely reached the shelter of a clump of bushes, when a detachment of Cubans, closely followed by two companies of Spanish cavalrymen, rushed past, both parties firing as they moved.