And there were some trees and bushes there, so the Americans began to feel more comfortable. For all they knew they might in the darkness have been strolling into a town.
But they were apparently out in the open country, there seemed to be no people and no houses near. So they started boldly forward.
It was then late at night, a dark and damp and windy night; so they were not likely to find many people wandering about.
"What we want to do," Clif said, "is to get back in the country a while where we can hide until morning. Then if we can find some Cubans we'll be all right."
Clif was about tired to death. He had done far more work that day than any of those sailors. But there was no time for resting then.
He gritted his teeth and started; they took their bearings from the sea, and then went straight on, watching and listening carefully, but meeting with no trouble.
At first their walk led through what had evidently once been a cultivated country, for it was level and had but few trees upon it. At present, however, it was overgrown with weeds.
Once they almost ran into a house, which it may readily be believed gave them a start. It was creepy business, anyhow, this stumbling along through the enemy's country without being able to see ten yards in front.
But the house seemed to be empty. In fact, it could hardly be called a house any more, for it was half burned down.
The Americans thought that it was empty, for Clif had stumbled and fallen with a crash over a pile of dry sticks and rubbish. But when he rose to his feet to listen anxiously there was no movement or sign that anybody had heard him.