“This yere is a putty big cane-brake, an’ no error,” remarked Sorrel, after a quarter of a mile had been covered. “Cap’n, it won’t do fer us to turn ourselves about an’ git lost.”
“We’ll stick to the one trail,” answered Ben. “As yet I’ve seen no side trails, although I’ve been watching every foot of the ground that we crossed.”
“Nor I, cap’n,—an’ don’t wan’t to, neither,” added the tall mountaineer.
A little further on was a clearing, in the centre of which stood a small cane-house. Halting on the edge of the opening, they beheld several Filipinos on guard outside the house. In the doorway, with his back to the opening, stood Major Morris, his hands bound behind him.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE TORNADO IN THE CANE-BRAKE
“I reckon we have got ’em tight, cap’n,” came from Sorrel, as the party of Americans came to a halt and surveyed the scene before them.