They halted at sight of the stranger, and some raised their weapons; but he, recognizing them as Cubans, called out: "I am Americano, and those Spaniards whom you have so bravely killed sought my life.

Viva Cuba libre!" Upon this they again advanced with shouts and eager questions.

They belonged to a detachment of the Cuban army on its way to join General Garcia, and had been attracted by the sound of firing.

Coming to discover its cause, they had seen the dead horse, and were stealing cautiously towards it when halted by the familiar cuckoo call of their enemies.
That Ridge had suffered at the hands of the Spaniards, and fought with them, was a sufficient passport to their favor.

Thus when he explained his desire to meet their general they consented to guide him to the Cuban rendezvous, which they said was high up in the mountains.
With a heavy heart and tear-dimmed eyes the young American turned from a last look at his beloved horse, and set forth with these new acquaintances on their toilsome march.