The bow of the rowboat struck and the frail object was whirled round and flung over, its occupants being fairly hurled into the air.
When they struck the water it was to find themselves within a few feet of dry land. They staggered to a standing position to find that they were in water only up to their waists. And the great wave was tugging them out to sea again.
They struggled forward wildly, clutching at each other. A minute later, breathless, exhausted and half drowned, but wild with joy, they staggered out upon a sandy beach and sank down to gasp for breath.
"We're safe!" panted Clif. "Safe!"
Safe! And on the island of Cuba, the stronghold of their deadly enemies!
CHAPTER IX.
THE ENEMY'S COUNTRY.
It must have been at least five minutes before those exhausted men moved again; when at last they managed to rise to their feet it was to find themselves in the midst of absolute darkness, with the wild sea on one side of them and on the other no one knew what.
The faint point of light which they had seen had now disappeared: but they took it to mean that there were Spaniards in the neighborhood.