The sun warmed the earth, and the camp rose. There was a hurrying to and fro, a sound of cracking twigs and numerous voices. Sorry-looking nags were pulled away from scattered heaps of cane-top fodder bordering the camp, over which they had been chewing and dreaming all night.
A mule which did not propose to budge was called a rude name. Cubans are not violent. They are not addicted to using harsh words. The Cuban simply tugged at the mule's long halter-rope, called him by his wrong name, turned and tugged again. The mule was obdurate. A half-naked black spanked the animal suddenly. The mule relented and stepped quickly forward, and the Cuban fell headlong. The half-naked black grinned with a scared expression; another roared. The fallen rebel picked himself up, and laughed too.
There was a jingling of bridle-bits and a rustling of saddle-gear; a cry of impatience as a girth broke in the attempt to tighten it. A little Major yelled an order to a distant subaltern. A Captain demanded his spurs from an orderly; another his gun. The negro element worked mechanically and said little.
The last rope was coiled, the last buckle tightened, and the men flung themselves astride their saddles.
The rebel band was moving.
Two scouts with long machetes at their sides and carbines ready resting upon their thighs galloped down the path. Others followed. They wound in and around and through the wooded expanse. The path forked and twined and forked again, leaving little islands of dense brush and scrubby trees. The scouts followed these twining paths, each in his own way, and the rebel band came scurrying on behind.
The many twining paths merged into a grove of guava-trees, and were lost in the dry matted grass. Out came the scouts from between the islands of brush. Into the guava grove they spurred their horses, bending here and dodging there to escape the low branches, and out upon the open they halted.
A long savanna spread before them. A scout urged his horse out upon the plain, and he was followed by another. The two galloped to the right and rose on a ridge overlooking a stretch of country beyond. There they paused; and as one, bending in his saddle, peered into the distance, the other shielded his eyes and looked too. Then they wheeled and rode up and down the ridge. Nothing! Nothing but cane-fields, palm-trees, and a tall chimney in the distance.
The halted ones advanced. In a reeling, waving line they came sweeping over the plain. They wheeled to the left and they wheeled to the right, and as the plain narrowed they wheeled together again, and plunged into a road through a broad field of cane bearing the marks of repeated forages.
Led by the tall grizzly chief, the rank and file emerged from the guava grove and scurried into one long, ragged, irregular column aiming straight for the road.