"Don't—don't leave me, captain!"
"I won't go far. I just want to reconnoitre a bit."
Ben felt that he had now a double responsibility upon his shoulders, and he did not leave the brushwood until he was certain none of the enemy were close at hand. Then, with pistol still drawn, he advanced toward the rocks over which they had made their way but a short while before.
On the other side of the rocks was a clump of three trees, with wide-spreading branches, some of which had bent down and reëntered the ground at a distance of several yards from the trunks. The trees were thickly interlaced with tropical vines, forming an ideal hiding-place for man or beast.
As the young captain stood near the rocks, he detected a movement in one of the trees. Then a low voice spoke up, in the Tagalog dialect.
"Do you see anything of the Americanos, now, Bambo?"
"lean see nothing—the mist is so thick," was the growling answer, in the same tongue.
"I feel sure the unclean ones came this way."
"Then where are they, Riva?"
"That we must find out. I will descend, while you can remain here on guard."
