Neither did they encounter a human being until their destination was reached, though for the last mile of their progress they were constantly watched by wild-looking figures that peered at them from behind rocks or bushes.

Often, after a single glance at the horsemen, these ragged scouts would dart away, scurrying through the brush with the noiseless speed of rabbits, and one able to see them would have observed that all took the same direction.

It was towards a camp of Cuban refugees, snugly hidden in one of the most inaccessible recesses of the mountains, and to it they bore the news of approaching visitors.
Therefore the camp was in a state of expectancy even before the new-comers were challenged by its outpost, and as del Concha had long since been recognized, they received a cordial greeting.

The wounded girl was at once taken to a commodious hut, where she could be cared for by nurses of her own sex, while a substantial breakfast, roughly cooked and of the simplest character, was made ready for the two men.
It was served on the ground just outside the hut of the Cuban General commanding the camp and its few hundreds of ragged soldiers.

This officer expressed great joy upon learning from Ridge that an American army was about to land in Cuba, and promised to harass any expedition sent against it from Holguin.
After breakfast, while del Concha was gone to inquire concerning his sweetheart, the General took Ridge to his private observatory, a superb palm, occupying an eminence, and towering above the surrounding forest.
From its leafy crown one could look directly down on Holguin and, with a good glass, clearly discern the movements of its garrison.
While thus alone with the General our young trooper asked questions about del Concha.
"He is one of the bravest and most patriotic of Cubans," declared the other, warmly.