A storm of answering shouts came from another
quarter of the wood, then followed profound silence. Presently the
trumpet sounded again, making me feel very much alarmed. My first
impulse was to spring on to my horse and ride away for dear life; but,
on second thoughts, I concluded that it would be safer to remain
concealed amongst the trees, as by leaving them I should only reveal
myself to the robbers or rebels, or whatever they were. I bridled my
horse so as to be ready to run, then drew him into a close thicket of
dark-foliaged bushes and fastened him there. The silence that had
fallen on the wood continued, and at last, unable to bear the suspense
longer, I began to make my way cautiously, revolver in hand, towards
the point the sounds had proceeded from. Stealing softly through the
bushes and trees where they grew near together, I came at length in
sight of an open piece of ground, about two or three hundred yards
wide, and overgrown with grass. Near its border on one side I was
amazed to see a group of about a dozen boys, their ages ranging from
about ten to fifteen, all standing perfectly motionless. One of them
held a trumpet in his hand, and they all wore red handkerchiefs or
rags tied round their heads. Suddenly, while I crouched amongst the
leafage watching them, a shrill note sounded from the opposite side
of the open space, and another troop of boys wearing white on their
heads burst from the trees and advanced with loud shouts of _vivas_
and _mueras_ towards the middle of the ground.
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