“Now what is to be done?” asked Alano in a low voice. “We can’t stay here, that’s certain.”
“Some of the soldiers are coming up the ravine after us!” exclaimed Burnham a moment later. “Hark!”
We listened, and found that he was right. At least half a dozen of the Spaniards were advancing in a cautious manner, their guns ready for immediate use.
“Let us climb this tree,” said Captain Guerez, pointing to a tall monarch of the forest, whose spreading branches reached nearly to the opposite side of the embankment. “Be quick, all of you!”
He leaped for the tree, and Burnham followed. I gave Alano a boost up, and he gave me a hand; and inside of forty seconds all of us were safe for the time being. As we rested on the upper branches of the tree we heard the far-away whistle of a locomotive.
“A train is coming!” said Alano.
“If we could only board it!” I put in eagerly. “It would carry us part of the way to Guantanamo, wouldn’t it?”
“It would—going in that direction,” said Captain Guerez, with a wave of his hand. “But the train may be filled with Spanish soldiers, and what then?”
The locomotive kept coming closer, and presently we heard the rattle of the cars as they bumped over the rails, which were far from being well ballasted. The captain was peering out from behind the tree branches, and he gave a deep breath as a flash of lightning lit up the scene.
“It is a freight train!” he exclaimed softly. “Come down to the branch below, all of you!”