101CHAPTER XITHE CROSSING OF THE RIO GRANDE RIVER
“For gracious’ sake, what did we want to retreat for?” demanded Ben, as soon as the command halted and Major Morris had come within speaking distance. The young captain had been at the very front of the firing line, and had seen that complete victory was only the work of a quarter of an hour or less.
“Orders from general headquarters,” replied the major, in a low tone. “I fancy the staff is pretty angry, too,” he added.
“We could have whipped them with ease.”
“So we could, captain, but—” And Major Morris finished with a shrug of his shoulders which meant a good deal.
“I don’t believe General Otis would have given such an order had he been here to see what was going on,” continued Ben, earnestly.
“Well, we’re ordered back to Angat, and that102is all there is to it. The army must have supplies, you know.”
“Hang the supplies!” muttered Gilmore, but under his breath. “We can get all the supplies we want as we go along.” And Ben was rather inclined to agree with him.
There was no help, however, for the turn in the situation; and with crestfallen faces the soldiers moved still further back and went into temporary camp. Only a few had suffered, and the wounded ones were promptly cared for by the hospital corps.
“And how do you feel?” asked Gilbert, as he came up to see Ben. “Does the wound hurt still?”
“It itches, that’s all,” answered Ben. “But this retreat—”
“Makes one feel sore all over, doesn’t it?” finished the young Southerner. “I must say I don’t understand it at all. If we are going to round up any of these rebels, we can’t do it by falling back and waiting for supplies.”
Impatient as they were, however, the troops had to wait for two days before another movement was made. During this time supplies were hurried forward in large quantities, that there might be no more delays in the future.
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In the meantime the troops under General MacArthur were by no means idle. They consisted of two brigades, that of General Hale on the right wing, and that of General Wheaton on the left wing. Of these troops the first advance was by some men of the Fourth Cavalry, who went forward to reconnoitre the enemy’s position near Quingua. The start was made during the early morning, and before long the insurgents opened a heavy fire which the Americans returned with difficulty, as the rebels were well concealed by the tall grass and their intrenchments. To aid the cavalry a number of other troops were hurried forward, also several field-pieces; and in the end the Filipinos were forced from their position, with a heavy loss. In this battle the Americans lost six killed and forty wounded. Among the killed was Colonel Stotsenburg, commanding the First Nebraska Volunteers, who, after most gallantly leading his men, was shot down in the final rush upon the enemy’s earthworks.
From Quingua the whole of General Hale’s brigade moved down the Quingua River to Pulilan. Here no resistance was encountered, and after a brief rest the brigade pushed on toward Logundi.104That town was not yet reached when the advance guard reported a breastwork across the main road, running to the river on the west and into the jungle on the east.
“Never mind, we’ll go ahead anyhow!” shouted the soldiers of the Nebraska regiment; and go ahead they did, with the South Dakota and Iowa troops beside them, and several guns of the Sixth Artillery protecting their advance. The fight at the earthworks was a fierce one, some of the Filipinos refusing to surrender even when they knew they were beaten; and as a consequence many of them were slain whose lives might otherwise have been spared to them.
A short distance to the northwest of Logundi, the Quingua and the Bagbag rivers join in flowing into the Calumpit. The railroad crosses the Bagbag but a short distance away, and at this point General Hale’s command reunited with that of General Wheaton, which had come up along the tracks from Malolos without difficulty. General Wheaton had with him the troops from Montana and Kansas, some Utah artillery, and one or two other commands, along with two armored cars, fitted out with Gatling and Hotchkiss guns and six-pounders.
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It was soon discovered that the rebels had built strong breastworks in a semicircle along the north bank of the Bagbag and the western bank of the Calumpit Rivers, and had injured the railroad track for a distance of several hundred yards, and also the bridge spanning the river. As the approach to both rivers was largely an open one, how to dislodge the Filipinos became a serious problem.
“Forward with the armored cars!” was the cry, and they were rushed ahead as far as the torn-up condition of the railroad tracks admitted. A cannonading lasting for half an hour followed, in which one of the batteries on the highway also took part. The aim of the gunners was good, and soon the insurgents were seen to be pouring from the trenches, which were getting too hot to hold them. Yet a fair number held their ground, and when the troops on foot advanced they opened a blistering fire which laid not a few Americans low. But the victory was ours, and soon the followers of Old Glory were wading or swimming the river, while the engineering corps set to work to repair the damage done to railroad and bridge, so that the armored and baggage cars might pass through.
The cry was now, “On to Calumpit!” which106town lies on the Calumpit River, and is divided into two parts by another stream, called the Rio Grande. It was found that the insurgents had practically deserted the lower half of the town, but had intrenchments on the upper bank of the Rio Grande which were even more formidable than those taken on the Bagbag. Here the rebels had also a Maxim and other guns, and it seemed as if for once the advance of the Americans was thoroughly blocked. Numerous good positions along the south bank of the river were held by our troops, but it looked as if they could not get over the stream without a tremendous loss of life.
It is said that the opportunity makes the man, and in this instance the saying proved a true one. With the soldiers under General Wheaton were the Twentieth Kansas Volunteers, who had already made a record for themselves at Malolos and elsewhere, as related in a previous volume of this series. They were commanded by Colonel Frederick Funston, a man comparatively young in years and small in stature, but one who was daring to the last degree, and who had seen much of fighting and hardships during his adventurous existence. In Cuba, Funston had fought most valiantly under107Garcia for Cuban liberty long before any interference by the United States.
To Colonel, afterward Brigadier General, Funston belongs the honor of the passage of the Rio Grande, for it was he who planned what was done, and he and a score of his fighting Kansans who carried it out. The daring of the scheme is one which will live long in American history.
As before mentioned, the bridge was partly broken, but enough remained for the passage of soldiers who could climb from one iron cross-section to another. At first it was hoped that a body might go over the bridge in the dark, raise a great commotion, and cause the Filipinos a panic. This scheme was tried, but it failed; for the enemy was on strict guard, and would have shot down the men as rapidly as they appeared on the bridge.
Colonel Funston then proposed to go down the river bank for a considerable distance, build rafts, and, by means of a stout rope, ferry some of the best of his men across the stream in the dark. The landing of the men was to be covered by the heaviest possible fire from the American side, and, as soon as they were safe ashore, the Kansas soldiers were to secure some position where they might enfilade the108enemy’s trenches, that is, fire through them from one end, so that the Filipinos might no longer find them safe. In the meantime more troops were to come over with all possible speed.
On the way down the stream the Kansas soldiers demolished several huts, selecting the best of the timber with which to build their rafts. The moon was under a cloud, and it looked as if they might get across the river without serious trouble.
But as the crowd were constructing their rafts and getting their ferry rope ready for use, the moon came out brightly; and very soon the insurgents became suspicious and fired on the Americans, who were forced to retreat to the nearest shelter. The firing kept up the greater part of two hours, and at last the plan to cross over that night was abandoned.
But the Kansas colonel and his gallant men had determined to be the first into the enemy’s camp, and once again they went to the spot previously selected, but this time in the broad daylight, when they might clearly see the shore opposite. No insurgents were in sight; and, after having made three rafts all right and tight, the rope was brought forth, and two men, named White and Trembly,109were asked to carry it across the stream. The soldiers plunged into the water without delay, being watched by hundreds of their comrades left behind. The men were without their uniforms or weapons of any kind.
Slowly the pair swam the turbulent waters of the stream, and hardly had they gotten fifty feet from shore when the rebels opened fire upon them, at first a few scattering shots and then a perfect volley. That the swimmers escaped is little short of a miracle. But they remained untouched, and, gaining the opposite bank, they ran forward and tied the rope’s end to a tree-stump. In the meantime two other soldiers started over the Rio Grande in a dugout, but this upset and let the men into the water, and they had to swim as had the others. But they landed with their guns intact, and at once opened fire at the nearest natives that showed themselves.
All this had happened with great rapidity, and now the first raft was coming across the river, loaded with Kansas soldiers officered by Colonel Funston himself. The raft became the target for the hottest kind of fire, and as the ferrying had to be done by the soldiers pulling along the rope stretched from shore to shore, the passage was as slow as it was dangerous.110But the soldiers on the craft went over in safety, and soon more followed, until over fifty were on the beach fronting the enemy’s intrenchments. Then, with a wild yelling, to give the rebels the impression that a large body had come over, they pushed forward to enfilade the enemy’s trenches as first proposed.
But now another difficulty arose. There was a small stream flowing into the Rio Grande near this spot, and this had to be crossed before the fire of the Americans could be made effective. How to get across was a problem, as the insurgents had a machine gun trained on the spot. This worked for a while and then stopped; and in the lull Colonel Funston secured a rowboat and went over with some of his men, and the others soon followed.
The Filipinos were now thoroughly frightened, for the Americans were making a great outcry down by the railroad bridge, and they imagined that they were to be attacked from several points at once. Some started to run, and as soon as Colonel Funston’s men began to rain their bullets into the long trenches, more followed, until the enemy was in a panic. Then the Americans began to cross the bridge and stream in great numbers, and the Filipinos, although111reënforced by a body of Macabebes just at this time, could not make an effective stand. Calumpit was left behind, and a running fight ensued which ended at Apalit, when a violent tropical thunderstorm put an end to the day’s operations. It was thought that the rebels’ headquarters would be found at Apalit; but this had, at the last moment, been removed to San Isidro, toward which General Lawton was now advancing.
112CHAPTER XIISOMETHING ABOUT A POISONED WELL
After the rest at Angat, the taking of San Rafael by General Lawton’s troops was an easy matter, and on May 1—the anniversary of Admiral Dewey’s great victory in Manila Bay—the soldiers set out for the town of Baliuag, five miles to the northward.
In spite of the recent rain, the road was hard and even dusty in spots. The heat was still as great as ever, and Ben was glad to take the benefit of any shade that afforded itself as he marched along at the head of his command. The date made him think of the battle just mentioned, and this brought him around to Larry once more, and he began to wonder if his brother would ever turn up again.
“I suppose I’ll have to write to Walter and to Uncle Job about this,” he muttered dismally. “But I hate to do it, especially if Larry does turn up, for I know it will worry both of them greatly.”
The road was thick with palms and plantains and113trailing plants, the latter of gorgeous colorings. Nipa huts and bamboo cottages were numerous, but the inmates kept themselves well hidden as the little army passed by. In the distance were paddy-fields and cane-brakes, and along the road were numerous mud-holes, some of which had to be bridged over before the artillery could pass in safety. More than once horses and cannon got stuck, and many a shoulder had to be put to the pieces to budge them.
“If there was no war, this would be a delightful spot in which to spend a vacation,” remarked Gilbert, who had come up for a little talk, as was his habit when they were pushing ahead in irregular formation. “I reckon the natives take solid comfort in their homes.”
“I suppose it puts you in mind of the South at home,” returned Ben, with a smile, “It is nice, certainly. But I fancy this continual heat would make one mighty lazy in time.”
“Well, the natives are lazy, you can easily see that,” laughed the young Southerner. “I wish I could get a good drink of water,” he added, a minute later.
They soon came to a pretty dwelling, set in a perfect wilderness of flowers and shrubs. Toward the114side they made out a well, and ran forward to fill their canteens.
The pair were at the well when a shrill cry from one of the side rooms of the house attracted their attention. Looking up, they saw a native girl waving her hand frantically at them. The girl was nicely dressed and evidently belonged to the better classes.
“We only want a drink!” shouted Ben, thinking that the maiden might imagine they had come into the garden to steal.
But the girl shouted more loudly than ever, and waved them away from the well. “Bad! bad!” she cried.
“Oh, no, we are not so bad as you think,” Gilbert shouted back; and was about to take a drink from a cocoanut-shell dipper which hung handy, when the girl came out of the cottage on a run and dashed the dipper to the ground. At the same time an evil-looking Filipino appeared at the doorway, shook his fist at the girl, and then suddenly ran for the barns behind the dwelling and disappeared.
“I want a drink and I’m going to have it,” began Gilbert, sternly, for he did not like the manner in which the water had been spilt over his clothing. “If you—”
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“The well is poisoned; don’t drink, it will kill you!” gasped the girl, in Spanish.
“The well is poisoned! don’t drink! it will kill you!”—Page 115.
“The well is poisoned! don’t drink! it will kill you!”—Page 115.
As old readers know, Gilbert understood a little of the language, having picked it up while on a trip to Cuba, and also while serving as a Rough Rider in that island. He started back and caught the maiden by the arm.
“Poisoned! you are certain?” he cried.
“Yes, señor; my uncle put the poison in only yesterday. He lost much at Angat, and he is very angry at theAmericanosin consequence. He knew the soldiers were coming this way, and he wanted to poison as many as he could. He put a water-barrel down on the road full of the poisoned water, too.”
“Who is your uncle, the man who just ran off?”
“Yes, señor. But, oh, do not go after him, I pray you!” cried the girl, in high alarm. “I would not have spoken, but I could not see you poisoned before my very eyes; no, not that!”
As quickly as he could, Gilbert translated her words to Ben, who listened in amazement.
“The villain!” ejaculated the young captain. “I’ve heard of this sort of thing being done before. I wonder where that barrel is that she spoke about? We must find it and empty it of its contents.”
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Gilbert put the question to the girl, who announced that the barrel was on another road back of the plantation. Whether any of the soldiers had reached it or not was a question.
As quickly as he could Ben reported the situation to his superior, and received orders to divide his company, leaving a part to guard the poisoned well so that no Americans might drink from it, while the rest should go and hunt up the water-barrel. Gilbert was detailed to accompany Ben, and the girl was given to understand that she must take the soldiers to where the barrel had been set up.
At first the maiden demurred; but there was no help for it, and the kind smiles which Gilbert and Ben gave her were an assurance that no harm was about to befall her. Yet she was afraid that when the reckoning came her uncle would deal harshly with her, and trembled violently as she moved through the rice-fields with the two young officers beside her.
The little command had nearly reached the back road when the report of a gun rang out, coming from the direction of a wood behind the rice-fields. The bullet sped past Ben’s shoulder, to bury itself in the fleshy part of one of his private’s arms.
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“’Tis my uncle!” cried the girl. “Oh, he will kill us all, I am sure of it!” And she became so agitated that she sank down and could not go another step.
Without hesitation, Ben ordered his men forward on the run, and away went the detachment for the spot from whence the unexpected shot had come. As the soldiers neared the wood they beheld a Filipino in the act of running across a small opening.
“That’s him, the rascal!” roared Dan Casey, and taking a hasty aim he fired, and the rebel was seen to plunge forward on his face. When the party came up they found that the man had been hit in the hip, and that the wound, while not necessarily dangerous, was serious, and would put the fellow out of the contest for several months.
“It serves him right,” said Ben. “Poisoning drinking water is not fair fighting.”
The girl soon came up, crying bitterly. She wished to remain by her uncle, but Ben made her understand that she must point out the water-barrel first, and after that he would have two soldiers remove the wounded man to the cottage.
Ten minutes later the rear road was gained, and here the water-barrel was found, set up on end, with118the top knocked out. It was three-quarters full of water, and a dozen or more soldiers were drinking and filling their canteens.
“Stop drinking!” ordered Ben, when still at a distance. “That water has been doctored and will make you sick.” He refrained from saying the water was poisoned for fear of creating a panic.
The water was at once poured out on the ground and the barrel smashed up. Then a surgeon was found, to whom Ben related the facts of the case. A canteen of the water was examined, and the surgeon decided to give the man who had drunk the stuff an emetic. A few of the soldiers were taken with cramps inside of an hour afterward, and two of them were seriously sick for a week; but no lives were lost. But if the soldiers could have got at the Filipino who had poisoned the water, they would have shot him on the spot.
As soon as the danger was over, Ben returned to the wood, and had two men carry the wounded man back to the cottage, where he was left in charge of his wife and his niece. Through Gilbert it was learned that the wife had also remonstrated against using the poison, so it was fair to suppose that the aunt would protect her niece to a certain degree. “But119she’ll have a hard time of it for doing us a service, I’m afraid,” said the young Southerner, as he and Ben resumed the march.
The scouts, under Chief Young, were in advance, and now a steady firing from the front told that another battle was at hand. Soon General Lawton came dashing through the crowd on the road, followed by his staff.
“Forward, boys!” was the cry, and then Ben’s command left the road and took to the rice-fields on the outskirts of Baliuag. The line was a long one, with the Oregon and Minnesota soldiers forming the skirmishing end, and Scott’s battery in a paddy-field on the extreme right. So far the insurgents had kept well hidden; but as the Americans drew closer to the town they could be seen running in half a dozen directions, as if undecided whether to fight or to flee.
The townspeople themselves were in a panic, and down the streets ran Filipinos and Chinese, some with their household effects piled high on their backs. They had heard of the coming of theAmericanos, but had hoped almost against hope that their beloved town would be passed by unmolested.
Ben’s regiment was moving along rapidly when120they came to a ditch which seemed to divide the rice-field in half. A short pause followed, when along came the cry of “Down!” and every man dropped, and none too soon, for the insurgents had opened up unexpectedly from a cane-brake behind the rice-field.
“We must take that cane-brake,” came the order from the colonel, and the word was passed along quickly, and away went the companies with a ringing cheer, firing as they ran, and reloading with all possible speed.
Ben was now truly in his element, and, waving his sword, he urged Company D well to the front, so that the cane was soon reached. But the rebels were not game for a hand-to-hand encounter and fled once more, through the cane and over a field of heavy grass leading to the very outskirts of the town beyond.
“They are running away!” was the cry. “On we go, boys, and the town will be ours in less than half an hour.”
But now a halt was ordered, on the edge of the cane-brake. From the outskirts of the town appeared a Filipino waving a white rag over his head.
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“Flag of truce!” cried the American general. “Cease firing!” And the order was instantly obeyed. “Major Morris, you can select a detail of three men and find out what they want.”
“I will, general,” answered the major of the first battalion, and saluted. He had soon chosen his men, one of whom was Gilbert Pennington, and, waving a white flag before them, the party of four advanced into the open field.
122CHAPTER XIIIIN WHICH A FLAG OF TRUCE IS FIRED UPON
Major Morris well knew the wiliness of the Filipinos, yet he did not doubt but that they would pay due respect to a flag of truce which they had themselves invited. Accordingly he advanced boldly with his little party, until the four had covered fully one-half of the distance which separated the American troops from the point where the rebels had taken a stand.
“He is thrustin’ thim a whole lot!” groaned Dan Casey, who was the closest man in the ranks to Ben. “If he gits plugged—”
“They won’t dare to fire, Dan,” said a companion. “If they did—”
The speech was cut short by the pop of a Mauser rifle, followed by two more pops, and the private who carried the white flag was seen to fling the banner down and fall headlong. In the123meantime, the Filipinos who had appeared with the white rag were running back to their own ranks with all possible speed.
“They have fired on the flag of truce!” The cry arose from a hundred throats, and then a scattering volley rang out. At the same time the Filipinos opened up in a body, and Major Morris, Gilbert, and the third man were seen to pitch into the tall grass in such a manner that they were almost hidden from view.
“Gilbert is shot! And Major Morris too!” Such was the painful thought which ran through Ben’s brain. He looked at the colonel pleadingly.
“Advance at once, Captain Russell, with the first battalion, to the rescue of the flag of truce,” ordered the colonel, understanding him fully. “After this, give the enemy no quarter.”
“Forward, men, to the rescue!” shouted the young captain, almost before his superior had finished. “Deploy to the left and fire at will. And make every shot tell!” he added bitterly.
“Forward it is!” shouted Dan Casey. “Down wid the haythins that don’t know the manin’ av honor!” And he led in the rush over the long grass.
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The whole line was soon advancing, but Ben’s company was in front, and kept there until within a hundred feet of where the four men had gone down. Then, to his amazement, the young captain saw Major Morris leap up, followed by Gilbert and the third soldier, and run with all speed toward the American line.
“Not shot!” cried Ben, joyfully. “Heaven be thanked for that!” And he almost felt like embracing his two friends. Only the flag-bearer had been struck, and he not seriously. The others had gone down in the long grass to destroy the enemy’s aim. The wounded flag-carrier was taken to the rear, and then the whole line pushed on with a yell which was as savage as it was loud and long. The incident, short as it was, was not forgotten, and when one end of the American line closed in on the retreating insurgents the latter fought to the last, knowing only too well that little quarter would be given to them because of their perfidy.
The long American line had swung toward Baliuag in a semicircle, and now, when the insurgents tried to flee by way of the north, they found themselves confronted front and rear. This put them in more125of a panic than ever; and had General Lawton had a thousand additional troops, it is more than likely he could have surrounded the rebels completely and compelled every one in that territory to throw down his arms.
But he had not the extra men, nor could he get them. Moreover, he had hardly a decent map of the territory, while the enemy knew every field, every road, and every stream. They could not make a stand at Baliuag, nor could they run in the direction of San Rafael, so their only course was to take to the rice-fields, the cane-brakes, and the jungle, and this they did in short order.
By the time the outskirts of the town was gained Ben’s command was almost exhausted; yet the colonel of the regiment felt that now was no time to rest, and company after company was sent out in the hope that some of the scattering bands of insurgents might be rounded up.
“Major Morris, you will take your four companies up yonder road,” said the colonel, after receiving orders from General Lawton’s orderly, and the head of the regiment pointed out the road in question. Soon the battalion was off on the double-quick, the major more than eager to wipe out the treachery126which had been shown to him and his companions but an hour or two before.
The road which the battalion followed was a winding one, lined with cottages of the better sort, showing that this was a fashionable outskirt of the town. Only a few people showed themselves, and nothing was seen or heard of the insurgents until a quarter of a mile had been covered, and the best of the habitations had been left behind. Then came an unexpected fire from a cane-brake, and out dashed fully two hundred savage-looking Tagals armed with guns and bolos.
“Halt! Fire!” came the commands, and the Americans obeyed as quickly as possible. Several of our men had been hit, one seriously, and now half a dozen Filipinos went down. For several minutes the fighting was at close quarters, and it looked as if the battalion had run into an ambush and were about to be slaughtered.
“To the shelter of the trees!” shouted Ben, and was about to guide his men when a fierce-looking rebel officer leaped before him with drawn sword. His own blade met that of the enemy, and both flashed fire. But the Tagal was a fine swordsman and kept at his work, feeling certain that he could127run theAmericanothrough and through. Clack! clack! went the blades, up and down, side to side, and straight forward.
“Take care there!” came from Major Morris, and just then the Tagal’s sword pricked Ben’s arm. The young captain leaped back a step, then came forward, and as quick as lightning his sword found the Tagal’s ribs. At the same time Dan Casey fired at the enemy, and the officer went down flat on his back, shot through the breast.
“I had to do it,” cried the Irish volunteer. “I thought he was afther stickin’ ye like a pig!”
“It was a close shave,” murmured Ben, as he passed on. “He handled his sword like an expert. I shan’t forget you for that, Casey.”
“Sure, an’ that’s all right, captain,” answered the soldier, quickly. “Is your arm hurted much?”
“I guess not. Come, we’ve got them on the run again.” And away the pair went, into the cane-brake, through which the rebels were crashing like so many wild cattle.
The day had been full of excitement, but much more was to follow. The cane-brakes were heavy, and soon Ben and Casey found themselves separated from the main body of the battalion and out of sight128of their own company. Then several Filipinos confronted them and called upon them to surrender.
“We ain’t surrenderin’ just yit, we ain’t!” howled the Irish soldier, and let drive at the nearest rebel, while Ben discharged his pistol. Two of the enemy were wounded, and in an instant the others took to their heels, evidently convinced that such fighters were “too many” for them.
The encounter, however, had taken time, and now Ben called upon his companion to stop running. “We want to know where we are running to first,” he said. “Listen.”
They listened and made out a distant firing to both the right and the left. “I’m afther thinkin’ our b’ys is to the right,” said Dan Casey.
“I believe you are right, Casey; although both of us may be mistaken,” rejoined the young captain of Company D. “We will try that direction, anyway.”
They continued on their way through the cane-brake until they reached a small stream. Here the ground was soft and full of treacherous bog-holes, and both looked at each other in dismay.
“Sure, an’ this is more than we bargained fer, eh,129captain?” remarked Casey, as he pulled himself out of a hole into which he had gone almost to his knees. “If we don’t look out we’ll git stuck so tight there’ll be no budgin’ av us.”
“The ground to the right seems to be firmer,” replied Ben. “Come, we will move in that direction.”
But to get out of the soft spot was not easy, and soon they found themselves between the tall cane and up to their knees in a muck that seemed to stick worse than glue.
“Sure, an’ this is fightin’ wid a vengeance,” said the Irish volunteer, smiling grimly. “It’s sthuck we are like flies on a fly paper, eh, Captain Russell?”
“We’ve got to get out somehow, Casey,” answered Ben, half desperately. “Our command is marching farther and farther away, and we’ll have all we can do to get up to them.”
“Sure thin, an’ Major Morris betther send a detail back wid a long rope to pull us out. We couldn’t fly from the inimy now if we thried, could we?”
“This is no joke, Casey.”
“Joke, bedad? No, captain, I’m afther thinkin’130it’s a mighty sarious difficulty. But there’s no use av cryin’, no matther how bad it is,” finished the Irish soldier, philosophically.
A moment of reflection convinced Ben that the best thing he could do was to go back part of the distance they had come, and make an endeavor to cross the little stream at another point.
They retreated with difficulty, first one sinking into some treacherous hole and then the other. Once Casey went flat on his back, and gave a loud yell of dismay when he found himself covered with a mud that was more like a paste than anything else.
“Sure, an’ I’ll not go in such a cane-field again, bedad,” he muttered, as he started to pick up the gun he had dropped. As he did so a cracking of cane-stalks near them caused both to straighten up in alarm.
“Who comes?” cried Ben, and drew the pistol he had shoved into his belt.
There was no answer and he repeated the demand. “Are you Americans?” he added.
Still there was no reply. But the cracking of the stalks continued, and the sounds seemed to move around the pair in something of a circle. Then131came a soft command in the Tagalog dialect. At once Dan Casey clutched Ben by the arm.
“They be afther surroundin’ us, captain,” he whispered. “Be the noises there must be tin or a dozen av thim. Phwat shall we do, fight or run fer it?”
132CHAPTER XIVSURROUNDED BY THE ENEMY
For the moment after Dan Casey spoke Ben was silent, not knowing himself what was best to do. That the Filipinos were surrounding them there could be no doubt, since those approaching would have answered the young captain of Company D had they been Americans.
The position of the pair was dangerous in the extreme, for the tall cane-stalks surrounded them upon all sides, giving shelter to the enemy, while the Tagals could see the volunteers with ease.
“Keep quiet, Casey,” whispered Ben, as the soldier started to speak again. “They may not know how many there are of us here and sneak off, fearing an ambush.”
The Irish volunteer nodded to show that he understood. He was holding his gun before him, ready to shoot whenever it appeared necessary.
Presently there was another whispered command, coming from directly in front of our friends. A133slight movement in the cane-brake followed, and then all became silent once more.
“Come!” whispered Ben. “Don’t fire until you see me do so.”
Thus speaking, the young captain moved slowly and cautiously from the spot they had occupied for five minutes or more. He picked his steps, and they fell as silently as those of a cat after a bird. Casey was at his heels, almost holding his breath, and his small eyes glistening with expectancy. Both knew that they were carrying their lives in their hands.
Two rods had been covered, and still nothing was seen of the Filipinos. Was it possible that they had withdrawn? But no, there was another cracking of cane-stalks and another command in the Tagalog language, coming now from their left. Then of a sudden a Mauser rang out, and a bullet whistled back of Ben’s head and across Casey’s face.
The report had not yet died out when Ben fired, straight for the flash of fire of which he had caught a momentary glimpse. That his shot reached its mark was proven by the wild yell of pain which followed.
“The jig is up!” cried Dan Casey. “We must134run fer it, captain!” And as a Tagal came into view before them he fired point-blank at the fellow, hitting him in the breast and killing him on the spot.
As luck would have it, the Filipino whom Casey had killed was a petty officer and the leader of the detachment, and his sudden taking-off disconcerted the insurgents for a minute, who yelled one to another that their leader was shot. Taking advantage of the confusion, our friends rushed headlong through the cane-brake, firing several times as they ran. A dozen shots answered them, but none of these took effect.
“I think the road is yonder,” said Ben, pointing with his pistol as they progressed. “Hark!”
From a distance came a scattering volley, proving that the fighting was not yet over. It came from the direction in which they were running. But now those left behind were after them, shooting and shouting with vigor, for they were ten to two, and were determined that the wickedAmericanosshould not escape their clutches.
At last the cane-brake was left behind. Beyond was a small part of a rice-field, and close by a cottage which appeared deserted.
“Sure, captain, an’ we’ll be shot down like dogs135if we show ourselves in th’ open,” panted Casey, who was almost out of breath.
“Get behind the house,” answered Ben. “It is our one chance,” and he started in advance. Again the Filipinos fired on them, and this time a bullet touched the young captain’s side, cutting a straight hole through his clothing.
They were yet a hundred feet from the cottage when two American soldiers came rushing forth, guns in hand. The strangers took in the situation at a glance, and let drive with such good aim that two of the enemy fell back wounded. The others paused, not knowing how many Americans might be concealed in the building, and in another minute Ben and Casey were for the time being safe.
“By gum, ef it ain’t Captain Russell!” cried one of the soldiers, as he faced Ben. “I’m right glad to be yere to help ye, cap’n,” and he smiled broadly.
“Ralph Sorrel!” returned Ben, as he recognized the tall Tennesseean who had once accompanied him on a search for Gilbert when the young Southerner was missing. “What are you doing here?”
“Jeming an’ me hev got a wounded man with us—Sergeant Kaser o’ our company. We war136takin’ him back o’ the lines, when he got so bad we brung him in yere to rest a spell. But you—”
“Thim rebels is comin’ agin!” announced Dan Casey. “Six, eight, nine av thim, wid wan limpin’. How many av us are there here?” he asked, as he looked around.
“Four,” answered Ben. “Load up, boys, and when you shoot—”
“We’ll make every shot tell,” answered Jeming, a hardy-looking soldier, almost as tall as his companion.
“I don’t believe they will come very close,” continued Ben. “They know that we have the advantage of them, even if we are but four to nine.”
The young captain was right. The Filipinos had showed themselves only for a few seconds. Now, as Sorrel raised his gun, they lost no time in darting behind cover.
The cottage consisted of four rooms, all on the ground floor, and a low loft upstairs. It was well built and fairly furnished in native fashion. On the single bed it contained lay the wounded soldier, Sergeant Kaser, whom Ben had met several times. He was hit in the neck, and looked as if he could last but a few hours at the most.
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“Sorry we can’t git ye back to camp, sergeant,” said Sorrel, as he did what he could to ease the wounded one’s pain. “The house is surrounded by the enemy. I reckon we kin keep ’em out, but I reckon likewise thet they kin keep us in—at least fer a while.”
“It—don’t—matter,” gasped Sergeant Kaser. “I am not—not—long for this world. What a terrible thing war is! I never thought I was going to be shot down like this!” And he gave another gasp. His eyes were staring from his head, for he was suffering severe pain.
Ben looked around the cottage for something which might be given to the sufferer to ease him. But the dwelling had been stripped of all small things, and nothing in the way of food, drink, or medicine remained. Sorrel had already bound a handkerchief soaked in cold water around the wounded neck, so nothing more could be done, excepting to raise the sufferer up to a sitting position, at his request. “I don’t know as thet is best fer him,” whispered the tall Tennesseean to Ben. “But he ain’t long fer this world, as he says, an’ he might as well hev his wish as not.”
In the meantime Casey and Jeming were on138guard, one watching to the front and right, the other to the left and rear. The nearest building to the cottage was a hundred and fifty feet away, but bushes and small trees were numerous, and the Americans were afraid the rebels might try to sneak up behind these and surprise them.
“Something is moving over there,” announced Jeming, after watching several of the bushes for a short spell. “Can’t make out, though, if it’s man or beast.”
“Have you plenty of ammunition?” asked Ben, who, as an officer, felt in charge of the party.
“Seventeen rounds, captain.”
“And how about you, Casey?”
“Fifteen rounds,” returned the Irish volunteer, after counting up the contents of his belt.
“I have twelve rounds, captain,” came from Sorrel. “But I reckon you know how I shoot, an’ Jeming’s jest as good, mebbe better.”
“I think the supply is sufficient,” said Ben, “so don’t run any chances. If you think that is an enemy give him a shot. But don’t hit one of our fellows by mistake,” he added, by way of caution.
“It’s a Tagal!” cried Jeming, while the young139captain was yet beside him. The gun was levelled like a flash, a report followed, and the Filipino fell behind the bushes and was seen no more.
“Thet will teach ’em to keep their distance,” was Sorrel’s comment. “Perhaps they’ll clear out soon, bein’ afeered some more o’ our troops will come this way.”
But the natives were “game,” as Ben expressed it; and instead of withdrawing, they began to come closer, using every bush, tree, and outbuilding to the best advantage. Some of their fellows had joined them, so that the attacking party now numbered fifteen, and each well armed. They had seen that Ben wore the uniform of a captain, and felt that the capture of such an officer would be much to their credit.
Sergeant Kaser was now groaning so that he could be heard even outside of the building, and as the rebels had fired through the windows several times, they concluded that they had wounded one of the four men they knew to be inside. If this was so, but threeAmericanoswere now left, and they felt that victory would soon be within their grasp.
“Surrendor, or we kill eferyboddy!” cried one140of the number, in English that could scarcely be understood. “We haf dreety mens outside.”
“We ain’t surrenderin’, not by a jugful!” answered Sorrel. “What in thunder does he mean by ‘dreety mens’?” he added, to his companions.
“I think he means thirty,” answered Ben. “But I don’t believe there are that many.”
“Yes, but there are more than there was,” announced Casey, quickly. “I’m just afther seein’ ’em pass yonder bushes.” He had pointed his gun, but the Filipinos had been too quick for him.
“Do you surrendor?” demanded the voice again. “We shall begin to shoot if you no gif up.”
“No surrender,” answered Ben, firmly.
Hardly had he spoken when something came rolling toward the cottage and stopped close to the porch. It was a rude ball made of sugar-cane husks and over a foot in diameter. The ball was ablaze and burning fiercely, as if covered with pitch.