In the midst of them he recognized a figure that explained the cause of their mysterious conduct, and at the same time aroused his fighting instinct. He quickly rejoined his companions, his eyes ablaze with the fire of combat. "They have captured the courier," he explained to his waiting companions. "That was why they cheered so lustily. A lot of jubilation over the capture of one man!" "They don't have such good luck very often," exclaimed one of the men. "They fired enough shots to repulse a whole regiment of insurgents," exclaimed Clif, "but it was all for the benefit of this one mambesi. I don't believe they saw me at all, but that bullet through my cap was one of their stray shots." "But they must know we are here," exclaimed the men. "I doubt it," replied Clif, "else why do they halt so near and not charge on us? Shall we force the fight and go to the rescue of our Cuban friend?" "How many are there of them?" asked one of the men. "Only about fifty." "And there are eleven of us here! We can set them on the run! Let's do it." "We have done almost as much on other occasions," said Clif, "but now we are armed with only our revolvers. They are five to one." "We have plenty of ammunition," spoke up the men, eagerly. "You know we took an extra supply." "But there is another thing we must bear in mind," said Clif, who had been doing some quick thinking. "I'd like nothing better than to give them a lively tussle. But here are these important dispatches. They must not fall into Spanish hands. The New York will soon be due. If we delay we might miss her." "That's so," exclaimed the men. "But we can fire one volley at them anyhow." "One volley would do no good. It would simply betray our presence. Either we must fight to the end, or else sneak off to our boat before they discover us." The idea of having a lot of the enemy so near at hand and not offering them battle, went against the grain of all of them. They were not deterred by the superior numbers of the Spaniards, but Clif's words about the importance of seeing the dispatches safely in the rear admiral's hand had some restraining effect upon their ardor. Clif, with all his bravery, was naturally prudent, but was strongly tempted to make one effort to release the captive Cuban. He was their friend and ally, and in his heart Clif felt that if the captive were one of his own men, there would be no thought of hesitancy or delay. "One minute," he said, after weighing both sides of the question, "I'll take a look and see what they are doing." He sprang upon the embankment and peered off toward the enemy. The main body of the troops were resting on their arms, apparently satisfied with the capture of the solitary Cuban.