the insurgents, who were gathering about, ready to rush in and plunder at the first opportunity.
We went ashore in one of the small boats, manned by eight jack tars, and landing close to the arsenal, made our way to a deserted church, which the sailors on shore had turned into a temporary barracks.
On every hand were the signs of the fierce conflict which had raged but a few short hours. The bay about Cavité was dotted with the half-burned wrecks of the Spanish warships, and fort and batteries were torn up as only a hail of shot and shell can do the work.
"This is awful," remarked Dan, as he walked around. "How these poor wretches must have suffered during the fight!"
"I reckon they were glad enough to run for it, Dan," I answered soberly. "But see, there are some Spanish soldiers approaching!"
The men referred to were a score in number. They were without arms, almost without shoes, and their clothing was torn in countless places by their wild rushes through the brush and cane fields. They came up to a body of volunteers encamped near the church.
"They have surrendered and want protection from the insurgents," said Dan, after listening to what was said by the Spanish leader. "He states that the rebels here are worse than
