The two sections had thus lain for above an hour when the notes of deep sounding bells, which the mule teams invariably bore, were heard in the distance in both directions, betokening the approach of trains from and to Venta Cruz. Then the nearer sound of a horse trotting over the road fell on the listening ears. As it was passing the ambuscade one of the Englishmen, a sailor who had taken too much wine and become reckless, crept up close to the road and raised himself and gazed at the rider. He was a cavalier, well mounted, with a page running at his stirrup. A Cimaroon quickly pulled the sailor down and sat on him. But it was too late. The cavalier had caught sight of the white-shirted object, had recognized it as an Englishman of Drake’s crew, and had put spurs to his horse and galloped off to warn the approaching treasurer’s team of danger. Meeting it on the road the cavalier reported what he had seen, and his conjecture that Drake was in the neighbourhood for plunder of treasure teams to recompense himself for his failure at Nombre de Dios; and he persuaded the treasurer to turn his train out of the way, and let the others that were to follow pass first. Their loss, if “worse befel,” would be of far less account, while they would serve to discover the party in ambush. And just this happened. As the others with the lesser treasure reached the ambush the captains blew their whistles for the attack, and both teams were speedily taken; but the spoil, besides the provisions, netted not more than two “horse-loads” of silver, and Drake’s game was fully discovered. One of the chief carriers told him how their ambush had been exposed by the imprudent sailor and how the cavalier had spread the warning, and counselled his party to “shift for themselves betimes” unless they were able to combat the whole force of Panama before daybreak.