way by the American authorities, I had at last to adopt the one plan left open to me. I bought in Key West the only small boat I could find, a flat-bottomed punt such as I have described, fourteen feet in length. She had somewhat more freeboard than most of her class, but still she was the last sort of boat I should have selected for use in rough water. One night I gave the slip to those who were spying my movements, smuggled my boat on to the deck of a little steamer that was starting for the South, and the next morning I was off the Cuban coast. When we were yet six miles off the land my boat was lowered into the water; the skipper would approach no nearer, fearing to draw the fire of the Spanish batteries. My intention was to pull towards the shore, which was there uninhabited and exposed to a heavy surf, land when I found a convenient place, and then walk in the direction of Havana, and hand myself over to the officer of the first party of Spanish troops I should meet with, avoiding, if possible, on my way any encounter with Cuban insurgents or Spanish guerillas, for the Spanish irregulars were known to have an unpleasant habit of shooting first and challenging afterwards. As bad luck would have it, it had been blowing hard for two days, and a nasty sea was running. I knew it was a perilous adventure, and had it not been that there was no other way of carrying out my mission I should not have thought of making the attempt. But I had no choice, so I leapt into the
