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Clif gave a sudden gasp as he saw a clearing ahead of them. But it was only a small one, and the Americans sped across it at the very top of their speed. They hoped to reach the woods before their foes sighted them. And they did. Then suddenly a new idea flashed over Clif. "Stop a minute!" he cried. "Ready!" The sailors saw him draw his revolver, and they knew what it meant.
She must have been a very shy vessel to have taken alarm at so great a distance; but from the slowness with which she came into view that seemed to be the case. And Clif paced the deck impatiently. It was not very much longer before he went off duty again; but he did not go below. For perhaps an hour he remained on deck watching the strange vessel. It seemed an age, but Clif had his reward.
Clif's heart was heavy, and he was miserable beyond description. But he turned and silently followed the sailor to the companionway. They did not go below at once, however, for just then something occurred that made the sailor stop. The man who had first spoke to Clif, the captain, apparently, had been sweeping the shore with his glass. And just then he gave a startled exclamation.
The Spaniard peered over the side of the boat in the darkness, expecting to see Clif's form appear on the surface, and hoping to see his life's blood staining the waters, a testimony to his marksmanship. How could he have failed to send that bullet crashing through the American's brain? thought he. But nothing of the sort happened. Clif not only was not wounded, but was chipper as a lark.
That cry seemed the death knell of the Americans, and their hearts leaped up in their throats when they heard it. For a moment Clif thought of stopping and giving battle then and there. But he realized the hopelessness of that; it was hopeless too, to run, with no place to run to. But the sailors were already dashing away through the woods. And the cadet soon caught up with them and urged them on.
Clif sprang in to help him, and they whirled the wheel around with all their might. But alas! they were too late! When a steamer waits until she hears breakers in a storm like that it is all up with her, for she must be near the shore indeed. And plunging as the Maria was, urged on by wind and waves and her own powerful engines, it was but an instant before the crisis came.
"And we will soon be safe." The two halted for a moment at the doorway of the hut and gazed out. In the faint gray light they could not make out the line of the shore beyond, but they heard the noise of the breakers and knew that it was not far away. And so half carrying his friend, Clif set out in the direction of the sound. Once only he turned again.
It began to look as if that would be their fate. The Spanish shot and shell, which at first fell harmlessly into the water, now dropped nearer and nearer. Clif heard an awful buzzing and whizzing sound in the air, and seemed to feel something hit him in the face and head. It was not his first time under fire, and he knew that a shell had passed near them.
Clif had half braced himself for the shock; but when it came it was far greater than he had expected. There was a crash that was simply deafening. The huge ship plunged into the rocky shore with a force that almost doubled her up, and made her shake from stem to stern. And she stopped so abruptly that Clif was flung through the window of the pilot house. The deed was done!
They came to a second clearing, a broad savanna this time. "We'll have to run for our very lives," gasped Clif. For if they failed to reach shelter before the Spaniards came up the former situation would be just reversed and the Spaniards could hide and fire in safety. And so the men set out at breakneck speed, as if they were in a hundred yard's dash. "I think we can make it," thought Clif.
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