THE ESCAPE FROM THE GUNBOAT.
"We are lost!" cried Alano, as he sought to pick himself up. "Oh, Mark,
what shall we do?"
"The oar--where is that oar?" I returned, throwing him from me and
trying to pierce the darkness.
"I don't know. I---- Oh!"
Alano let out the exclamation as a broad sheet of light swept across
the rain and the waters beneath us--light coming from a search-lantern
in the turret of the gunboat. Fortunately the rays were not lowered
sufficiently to reach us, yet the light was strong enough to enable me
to see the missing oar, which floated but a few feet away. I caught it
with the end of the other oar, and then began pulling at the top of my
speed.
But all of this took time, and now the alarm on board of the war vessel
had reached its height. A shot rang out, a bell tolled, and several
officers came rushing to the anchor chains. They began shouting in
Spanish, so volubly I could not understand a word; and now was no time
to question Alano, who was doing his best to get out a second pair of
oars which we had, fortunately, placed on board at the last moment. He
had often rowed with me on the lake at Broxville; and in a few seconds
he had caught the stroke, and away we went at a spinning speed.
"They are going to fire on us!" he panted, as the shouting behind
increased. "Shall we give up?"
"Not on my account."
"Nor on mine. If we give up, they'll put us in prison, sure. Pull on!"
And pull we did, until, in spite of the cold rain, each of us was
dripping with perspiration and ready to drop with exhaustion.
Boom! a cannon shot rang out, and involuntarily both of us ducked our
heads. But the shot flew wide of its mark--so wide, in fact, that we
knew not where it went.
"They'll get out a boat next!" I said. "Pull, Alano; put every ounce of
muscle into the stroke."
"I am doing that already," he gasped. "We must be getting near the
shore. What about the guard there?"
"We'll have to trust to luck," I answered.
Another shot came booming over the misty waters, and this time we
heard the sizz of the cannon ball as it hit the waves and sank. We were
now in the glare of the searchlight, but the mist and rain were in our
favor.
"There is the shore!" I cried, on looking around a few seconds later.
"Now be prepared to run for it as soon as the boat beaches!"
With a rush our craft shot in between a lot of sea grass and stuck her
bow into the soft mud. Dropping our oars, we sprang to the bow and took
long leaps to solid ground. We had hardly righted ourselves when there
came a call out of the darkness.
"_Quien va?_" And thus challenging us, a Spanish soldier who was on
guard along the water's edge rushed up to intercept our progress. His
bayonet was within a foot of my breast, when Alano jumped under and
hurled him to the ground.
"Come!" he cried to me. "Come, ere it is too late!" and away we went,
doing the best sprinting we had ever done in our lives. Over a marsh
and through a thorny field we dashed, and then struck a narrow path
leading directly into a woods. The guard yelled after us and fired his
gun, but that was the last we saw or heard of him.
[Illustration: "AN ALARM RANG OUT, A SOUND WHICH FILLED US BOTH WITH
FEAR."]
Fearful, however, of pursuit, we did not slacken our pace until
compelled to; and then, coming to a thick clump of grass at the foot of
a half-decayed banana tree, we sank down completely out of breath. I
had never taken such fearful chances on my life before, and I trusted
I would never have to do so again, little dreaming of all the perils
which still lay before us.
"I believe we are safe for the present," said Alano, when he could get
his breath. "I wonder where we are?"
"We're in a very dark, dirty, and wet woods," I returned gloomily.
"Have we got to remain here all night?"
"It's better than being in a Spanish prison," replied my Cuban chum
simply. "We can go on after we are a bit rested."
The rain was coming down upon the broad leaves of the banana tree at a
lively rate, but Alano said he thought it must be a clearing shower,
and so it soon proved to be. But scarcely had the drops ceased to fall
than a host of mosquitoes and other insects arose, keeping us more than
busy.
"We must get out of this!" I exclaimed, when I could stand the tiny
pests no longer. "I'm being literally chewed up alive. And, see, there
is a lizard!" And I shook the thing from my arm.
"Oh, you mustn't mind such things in Cuba!" said Alano, laughing
shortly. "Why, we have worse things than that--snakes and alligators,
and the like. But come on, if you are rested. It may be we'll soon
strike some sort of shelter."
Luckily, through all the excitement we had retained our valises, which
were slung across our backs by straps thrown over the shoulder. From my
own I now extracted a large handkerchief, and this served, when placed
in my broad-brimmed hat, to protect my neck and ears from the insects.
As for Alano, he was acclimated and did not seem to be bothered at all.
We pursued our way through the woods, and then ascended a steep bank
of clay, at the top of which was a well-made road leading to the
northward. We looked up and down, but not a habitation or building of
any kind was in sight.
"It leads somewhere," said Alano, after a pause. "Let us go on, but
with care, for perhaps the Spanish Government has guards even as far
out as this."
On we went once more, picking our way around the numerous pools and
bog-holes in the road. The stars were now coming out, and we could
consequently see much better than before.
"A light!" I cried, when quarter of a mile had been traversed. "See,
Alano."
"It must be from a plantation," he answered. "If it is, the chances
are that the owner is a Spanish sympathizer--he wouldn't dare to be
anything else, so close to the city."
"But he might aid us in secret," I suggested.
Alano shrugged his shoulders, and we proceeded more slowly. Then he
caught my arm.
"There is a sugar-house back of that canefield," he said. "We may find
shelter there."
"Anywhere--so we can catch a few hours' nap."
We proceeded around the field with caution, for the plantation house
was not far away. Passing a building where the grinding was done, we
entered a long, low drying shed. Here we struck a match, and by the
flickering light espied a heap of dry husks, upon which we immediately
threw ourselves.
"We'll have to be up and away before daybreak," said my chum, as he
drew off his wet coat, an example which I at once followed, even though
it was so warm I did not suffer greatly from the dampness. "We would
be sorry fellows to give an explanation if we were stopped in this
vicinity."
"Yes, and for the matter of that, we had better sleep with one eye
open," I rejoined. And then we turned in, and both presently fell
asleep through sheer exhaustion.
How long I had been sleeping I did not know. I awoke with a start, to
find a cold nose pressing against my face.
"Hi! get out of here!" I cried, and then the owner of the nose leaped
back and uttered the low, savage, and unmistakable growl of a Cuban
bloodhound!