In a short time the party were in motion. A horse had been captured from the herd of those that had run wild during the absence of their owner, and Salas sat it well. Phil thought he had never seen such a graceful horseman. The wild horse reared and plunged in its efforts to unseat the rider, but he could not be disturbed. The native followers formed about them, and the party moved slowly along the uneven road. After a half hour’s ride, Salas ordered a halt at the base of a bluff several hundred feet high. The midshipmen gazed with inward emotion at the towering cliffs ahead of them, through which ran like a torrent the muddy Tubig River. “From here we must go by banka,” the outlaw explained. “My men will go on foot, for they are accustomed to the rough trail; but for the señorita it would be impossible.” One of the natives approached his chief timidly, and spoke a few short sentences in a frightened voice. On hearing the man’s words, Salas’ face darkened in anger and he struck him brutally with his heavy whip. The startled native recoiled in terror from his incensed master. “He tells me that there is but one banka ready,” he explained apologetically; “the other bankas are at the foot of the trail two miles up the river. The ones we used this morning I left at the ranch. I am sorry, but as only five can go in this boat some of the party must walk. Who shall it be?” he asked abruptly. “There are just five of us,” Maria suggested enthusiastically. “My brother and I are at home with a paddle and surely the señor colonel has often propelled his own boat.” Salas glanced keenly at the girl’s face. He saw nothing there save youthful eagerness for adventure. “As you wish,” he replied carelessly. “It’s a tedious journey: two miles against the swift current. My men are used to it.” But Maria’s mind was set upon their going together. Phil pondered upon what her plan might be. The river was now narrow and the colonel’s men would always be within hail. “What shall we do with our horses?” Phil questioned. “Are we to return here?” “I shall leave some men here with them,” the Filipino leader assured him. “We shall either return by the way we came or else over the trail. “Vamos,” he concluded, waving his hand toward the large canoe which two of the natives were holding close up to the steep river bank. Maria took her place in the bow while the others distributed themselves evenly upon the frail low seats, grasping their paddles ready to balance the boat when it was cast adrift in the swift current. Salas stood undecided upon the bank; his men had gone over the trail leading through the almost impenetrable jungle between them and the high palisade upon which was the outlaw’s stronghold. “Leave the horses here,” he said finally to his two men, “and go back to the palm grove and bring up one of the canoes we left there this morning.”