“I’ll take a look myself,” he said, and, dismounting so that his horse might not get stuck, advanced on foot.
In my impatience I went with him. The way was very dark, and I suggested that a torch be lighted.
“An excellent plan,” said Alano’s father, and immediately cut a cedar branch. By its blaze we were enabled to see quite well, and succeeded in finding another path around the muddy spot.
To save our horses we walked them for half a mile. It was tough traveling, and the clouds of mosquitoes made the journey almost unendurable. I was glad when, at early dawn, we emerged from the valley on a bit of a rise, where the ground was firm and the growth somewhat limited.
A broad highway now lay before us, the main road from Rodania to Cubineta. It was one of the best highways I had seen since leaving Santiago de Cuba, and this was explained by Captain Guerez, who said the road had been put into condition just previous to the breaking out of the war.
As usual, one of the party was in advance, and this was a lucky thing, for about ten o’clock the soldier came tearing toward us on his horse and motioning us to take to the woods.
Captain Guerez was on the lookout, and turned to us quickly.
“Dismount!” he cried in Spanish, and we leaped to the ground, and led our animals into a thicket growing to the left of the highway. The vidette followed us, stating that a large body of Spanish cavalry was approaching.
We forced our horses into the thicket for fully a hundred feet and tied them fast. Then, with cautious steps, we returned to the vicinity of the road and concealed ourselves behind convenient trees and bushes.