"I know the coast pretty well along here," thought Clif, as he set in the stern, tiller ropes in hand. "We'll get there all right." Success depended upon their own efforts, for the New York slowly steamed away along the coast and in the opposite direction. Clif and his party sped along without any uneasiness. It was night and darkness favored them. There was no reason to think that their presence there was suspected or their purpose known. Still, for all this evident security, Clif kept a sharp lookout for any of the enemy who might be prowling along like himself, or, worse still, who might be scouring those waters with one of those silent little terrors, a torpedo boat. All went peacefully until they were within less than half a mile of their destination, and quite near shore. Then suddenly a rifle shot rang out upon the shore, and sounds of voices came to their ears. The Spaniards had discovered them! "Perhaps not," thought Clif, hopefully. "Silence everybody," he said, addressing the men, "and listen." Instantly the men ceased rowing, and every one strained his ears to hear the sounds from shore. That there was a company of the enemy at that point was evident, from the noise of many voices and the confused sounds that were borne to the listeners' ears. "They have discovered us," whispered Clif to the one nearest him. "I caught a few words of Spanish that convinces me that the sentry has heard our oars. Not a sound now! They can't see us in the dark, and will think it all a mistake." It was a waiting game that Clif had set out to play, and it seemed the only thing that could help them under the circumstances. It was out of the question to think of attacking the Spaniards, superior at least in numbers. There was other work for the night. Silently the American crew waited, listening for every sound. Soon these voices died out, and Clif concluded that they could venture to move once more. "Row quietly," was his whispered order. "I'd like to give them a volley, but that would spoil our plans." The men cautiously plied the oars and were soon steering softly toward their appointed place of landing. But quietly as they moved, the sound was borne ashore and they had not proceeded many boat lengths before another shot echoed across the water. "To thunder with the Spaniard," exclaimed Clif, out of patience with the fresh outbreak. "He's firing at random. Go ahead. We'll meet them further down the shore if they're not satisfied." This sentiment met the approval of the men, and they bent to the oars with vigor and spirit. They were gliding swiftly across the water, and had nearly reached their landing place, when Clif heard a noise that put him on the alert. "Do you hear that?" he exclaimed, after hastily stopping the rowers. The men rested on their oars and listened. "Sounds like the throbbing of an engine, sir," at last said one of the men. "It's a boat, sure."