He placed himself at the head of his men, who followed him with their muskets shouldered, but at the end of a few yards their commander called—
“Halt—I’m not at all sure of our way, gentlemen,” he said, addressing the two midshipmen, “but I think we ought to take that end—yonder where the blacks are collecting.”
“No, sir, I don’t think that’s right,” cried Murray. “You see, every part of the circus-like place looks like the rest.”
“Yes, I see that, Murray, but surely there is the path yonder by which we came.”
But as he spoke, half-a-dozen more musket flashes came from the very spot to which he had pointed, and what might be called a wave of black figures came, dotting the earth with as many white cotton-clad wounded or dead unfortunates as shots had been fired.
“Bah! I’m wrong,” cried the lieutenant angrily. “This looks like a planned massacre of the poor creatures gathered at this meeting. If we could only find our guide we might have a chance to get out of the horrible confusion. Here, let’s try this way.”
“Yes, sir; that is the way, I am sure, for it is just opposite to that chest out of which that poor fellow took the snake.”
“You are right, sir,” cried the lieutenant; “and we must retreat in that direction, for it is of no use to try and make a stand against a hidden enemy.”
“Why don’t those poor wretches show fight, sir?” cried Murray excitedly, as the little party began their march.
“Because they have no one to lead them, my lad.”