Not a sound was heard save the calling of the birds, the buzzing of insects. Perched on a rise of ground, screened by thick bushes, a foe might have stood within a hundred feet and not discovered them. “The only danger,” smiled Hal, “would come from Juan’s snoring.” Amid all this solitude of nature, however, Juan’s nasal notes did not seem a source of danger. “Jupiter! What’s that?” muttered Hal, suddenly. From his perch he had an excellent view up a long, winding ravine. “The glint of the sun on steel, as sure as I’m a sinner,” muttered the boy. Turning, he gave Juan’s nearer shoulder a quick shake. “Ready, senor,” murmured the Cuban, waking at once. “My hour is up, then?” “No, but something else is up,” whispered excited Hal, pointing up the ravine. “Look there!” Juan looked, and became instantly awake. “The enemy!” he muttered, his eyes flashing ominously. “Heaven be thanked that at last we have guns. We can fight!” “Fight that force?” demanded Hal, aghast. “My friend, have you counted their number?” “No.” “I have.” “Well?” “They number at least sixty.” “No matter!” grated Juan. “We can worry them. We shall be killed, of course, but perhaps we can settle three or four of their men first.” “See here,” remonstrated Hal. “I’m ready for fighting, but not for suicide.” “It is the way we Cubans fight,” rejoined Juan, proudly. “We care not what the number of the enemy. We always fire when we see one.” “We’ll fire, then, if you say so,” agreed Hal. “If you asked my opinion, though, I should say that we had better wait until we have had a chance to offer ourselves at the nearest Cuban camp.” Juan fixed his wide open eyes on our hero for an instant. “I have no doubt you are right, mi amigo,” he said, an instant later. “Our Cuban blood is too hot. We lack the cool judgment of you Americanos. Senor, will you take command?” “Until we reach camp, if you wish it.” “I beg you to do so.” “Very well; though I warn you,” smiled Hal, “that I shall not give the order to attack thirty times our number.” Juan sighed, but remained silent. “They are going to march by within a hundred feet of us,” whispered Hal, following the course of the ravine. Juan grasped his rifle tightly to still the trembling of his fingers. By this time, the head of the column was within five hundred feet. At the head rode a half a dozen mounted Spanish officers. Behind them marched a captain and two lieutenants in command of the infantrymen. Tattered and dusty-looking were these soldiers. Many of them limped, as if used up by a long forced march. Just at the foot of the hill from which Hal and Juan glared from covert, the captain, at a sign from one of the mounted officers, cried: “Halt!” It was a popular order, as the relieved faces of the men instantly showed. “Break ranks.” Arms were stacked, four sentinels mounted, and the horses tethered. Just at that moment, two dust-covered troopers rode up the ravine from the direction of Havana.