the Spaniards would indeed
fight, Clif's busy brain thought of a means to turn the tide of
conflict.

It was a slight hope, to be sure, but the only one that presented
itself. He smiled in spite of himself, in view of his meagre forces at
the thought that the only way to achieve victory was by a flank
movement.

"I'll take two men," he said hurriedly, "and slip around behind those
fellows. The rest of you keep up your fire here, and if our lungs hold
out we'll make them think we have reinforcements."

It was a very risky move, but with two companions Clif put it into
execution at once. They hurried through the woods so as to flank the
enemy, an easy task, as the latter were now well up to the little grove.

As they reached the edge of the woods which would bring them in the
enemy's rear, they set up a mighty shout.

"At them, boys!" Clif yelled at his imaginary forces. "Come on! we've
got 'em!"

Then in Spanish he cried, so that the enemy could hear:

"Surrender, you Spaniards! Twelve men have held you, and now we'll take
you!"

He had reached the edge of the clearing, and paused a moment, facing
around and beckoning to his imaginary reinforcements.

The Spaniards were completely bewildered. The fire from those that Clif
had left behind continued without intermission, and the Spaniards could
not but think that the vociferous sailors in their rear were new
arrivals.

They could not in the first place conceive of the daring and hardihood
that would lead a dozen men to oppose their forces unless reserves were
near at hand. And now, thought they, these reinforcements had arrived.

Clif and his companions made noise enough to give color to this belief,
and without stopping to see what there was behind the demonstration, the
Spaniards took to their heels.

"They are not men, but devils!" Clif heard some one say in Spanish, as
they dropped their rifles and start on the run.

Even the officer who had succeeded once in holding a remnant of his
panic-stricken forces together, now gave up the fight and sprinted away
as fast as the rest.

Every man seemed to be looking for his own safety, and they did not
pause to see what was behind them. Here and there, it is true, one of
the fleeing Spaniards could be seen helping a wounded companion in his
flight. But as for further resistance, there was none.

Clif could not forbear to laugh at the odd sight of an army in a foot
race to escape a few American sailors.

"Am