THE GAP IN THE FIRING LINE
"Hullo, Lieutenant Horitz has fallen overboard!"
"Pull him out of the mud, before he smothers or drowns!"
Such were some of the cries which arose among the soldiers that filled
the casco. Then Larry was shoved back, and two of them caught hold of
the legs of the man who had disappeared, as for an instant they showed
themselves. There was a "long pull, a strong pull, and a pull
altogether," and up came the lieutenant, minus his hat and with his
face and neck well plastered with the black ooze of the river bottom.
For a moment after he sank on the seat that was vacated to receive him,
he could not speak. One of the soldiers handed him a handkerchief, and
with this he proceeded to clear his eyes and ears, at the same time
puffing vainly to get back his breath. At last he cleared his throat
and glared angrily at Larry.
"You--you young whelp!" he fumed. "You--you knocked me over on
purpose!"
"No, sir, I did not," answered the young tar, promptly. "One of the
soldiers shoved me up against you."
"I don't believe you," roared the unreasonable one, as he continued to
clean himself off. "You shall pay dearly for this assault, mark me!"
"Didn't you shove me?" asked Larry, appealing to one of the soldiers.
"I shoved you off of my neck, yes," answered the enlisted man. "But I
didn't throw you into Lieutenant Horitz. You did that yourself."
"Of course he did it himself," said another soldier, who did not wish
to see his tent-mate get into trouble. "You had it in for the
lieutenant ever since he first spoke to you."
"I shall report you the first chance I get," growled Lieutenant
Horitz. "I reckon you'll find that General Lawton won't allow any such
disgraceful conduct while he is in command."
"What's the row back there?" came out of the darkness. "Hurry up and
get afloat, or we'll cut the rope and leave you to shift for
yourselves."
"Our officer was just shoved overboard," answered Snapper, the
soldier who had given Larry the unlucky push. "And we've lost our
oar."
"No, I have the oar," put in Larry, making a clutch into the water for
the article just as it was about to float out of reach. He leaped into
the bow once more, and began to work vigorously, and in a few seconds
they were again afloat.
Fortunately for the lieutenant the night was warm, so he suffered no
inconvenience so far as his wet clothing was concerned. But it was no
mean task to clean both himself and his uniform, and what to do for
another hat he did not know. He would have taken Larry's headgear had
that article been anyway suitable, but it was not.
It must be confessed that Larry felt thoroughly ill at ease. That
there was trouble ahead went without saying, and he half wished
himself safe back on the _Olympia_. "He'll make out the worst case he
can against me," he thought. "And his men will back him up in all he
says." Yet he felt that he was guilty of no intentional wrong-doing,
and resolved to stand up for himself to the best of his ability.
The lieutenant had learned one lesson--that he knew no more about
handling the casco than did Larry, if as much, and, consequently, he
offered no more suggestions as to how to run the craft. But he kept
muttering under his breath at the youth, and Larry felt that he was
aching to "get square."
It was early dawn when the casco turned into the lake proper. As the
sun came up it shed its light on one of the prettiest sheets of water
Larry had ever beheld. The lake was as smooth as a millpond, and
surrounded with long stretches of marshland and heavy thickets of
tropical growth. Fish were plentiful, as could be seen by gazing into
the clear depths below, and overhead circled innumerable birds.
Villages dotted the lake shore at various points, but these the
expedition gave a wide berth, setting out directly for Santa Cruz,
still several miles distant, behind the hill previously mentioned.
If it had been General Lawton's intention to attack the town from in
front in the dark, that plan had now to be changed, and the expedition
turned toward shore at a point at least three miles from the town
proper.
But even here the rebels could be seen to be on the alert, and a
rapid-firing gun was put into action and directed along the lake
front. The gun was manned by some men from the _Napadan_, and did such
wonderful execution that soon the insurgent sentries were seen to be
fleeing toward the town at utmost speed. Then a small detachment from
some brush also retreated, and the coast was clear.
It was no easy matter to land, as the water here was shallow and the
cascos had to be poled along over the soft mud. The sharpshooters were
the first ashore, and they soon cleared a spot for the others. But a
few of the rebels were "game," and as a result one man was wounded,
although not seriously. The cavalry remained on the boats, to land
closer to the hill later on.
The landing had consumed much valuable time, and it was now after
noon. A hasty meal was had, and then the column moved off, spreading
out in fan shape as it advanced, the sharpshooters to the front and
the rear, and a number of special scouts on the alert to give the
first warning of danger. Soon the scouts in front came back with the
news that the insurgents were forming in front of our troops and that
Santa Cruz and its garrison seemed thoroughly aroused to the danger
which threatened.
"Forward, boys!" was the cry. "The more time we give them, the better
they will be prepared to meet us. Forward without delay!" And the
"boys" went forward with a wild hurrah, for everything promised well,
and they were much pleased to have General Lawton lead them, even
though they had no fault to find with their other commanders.
The first skirmish began on the extreme right. Some rebels had found
their way to a hill behind the town, and they began the attack from a
patch of wild plantains, thickly interlaced with tropical vines. Up
the hill after them dashed the right wing, and the sharp rattle of
musketry resounded upon both sides for the best part of half an hour.
Then the rebels broke and ran, and in their eagerness our troops
followed them until a point less than two miles from Santa Cruz was
gained. Here the insurgents scattered, and could not be rounded up,
and the right wing fell back, to unite with the main body of the
expedition. But the woods were thick, the ground new to the Americans,
and in the gathering darkness it was several hours before the firing
line was compact once more. Then the expedition rested for the night.
Larry had landed with the soldiers, and, as the other cascos came up,
he was speedily joined by Luke Striker and Jack Biddle.
"I wonder what part we air to take in this comin' mix-up?" queried
Luke.
"Like as not they will leave us here to mind the boats," replied
Larry. "I can tell you that I am rather sorry I came along," he added
soberly.
"Sorry!" ejaculated Jack Biddle. "Surely, Larry, ye ain't afraid--"
"No, I'm not afraid," interrupted the youth. And then he told of the
scene in the casco, and of what Lieutenant Horitz had said. When he
had finished, Jack cut a wry face and Luke uttered a low whistle.
"You've run up agin a rock fer sartin, Larry," remarked Luke. "I
reckon he can make things look putty bad for ye if he's of a mind to
do it."
"Keep quiet an' say nuthin', an' he may forgit all about it," was Jack
Biddle's advice.
The boats having been cared for, the sailors followed the soldiers
through the field and into the woods. All told there were twenty-five
jackies, and by common consent they formed themselves into a company
of their own, with a petty officer named Gordell at their head.
Gordell went to General Lawton for directions, and was told to follow
the volunteers until given further orders. Each sailor was armed with
a pistol and a ship's cutlass.
The march was a hot one, but Larry was now getting accustomed to the
tropics and hardly minded this. The little company advanced with
caution, nobody desiring to run into an ambush. Soon the firing on the
right reached their ears, and they knew that some sort of an
engagement was on. Then came a halt, and presently the darkness of
night fell over them; and they went into camp beside a tiny
watercourse flowing into a good-sized stream which separated the
expedition from the outskirts of Santa Cruz.
Supper disposed of, Larry and Luke Striker took a stroll forward, to
find out what the firing line was really doing and if the insurgents
were in front in force. "We may have a bigger fight on hand nor any of
us expect," suggested the old Yankee gunner.
"You can trust General Lawton not to run his head into the lion's
mouth," returned Larry. "A soldier who has whipped the Apache Indians
isn't going to suffer any surprise at the hands of these Tagals, no
matter how wily they are."
"Don't be too sure o' thet, Larry. The best on us make mistakes
sometimes," answered the Yankee, with a grave shake of his head. But
General Lawton made no mistake, as we shall speedily see.
As has been said, the right wing had become detached from the main
body of the expedition during the fight on the hill back of Santa
Cruz. The firing line of this wing had not yet united with the centre,
consequently there was a gap of over a quarter of a mile in the front.
Had the Tagalogs known of this they might have divided the expedition
and surrounded the right wing completely, but they did not know, so
the temporary separation did no damage to the soldiers. But that gap
brought a good bit of trouble to Larry and his friend.
On and on went the pair, down a narrow road lined on either side with
palms and plantains and sweet-smelling shrubs. From the hollows the
frogs croaked dismally, and here and there a night bird uttered its
lonely cry, but otherwise all was silent.
"Humph, they've pushed the firing line ahead further than I thought,"
remarked Luke, after half a mile had been covered. "Here's a small
river. Do ye reckon as how they went over thet, lad?"
"It must be so," answered the boy. "Certainly, we haven't been
challenged."
Crossing the rude bridge, they found that the road made a sharp turn
to the southward. Beyond was a nipa hut, back of which burnt a small
camp-fire. Both hut and fire seemed deserted.
"They have cleaned the rebels out from there," said Larry. "Come
ahead," and they continued on their way, little dreaming of the trap
into which they were walking.
The nipa hut passed, they came to a tall fence built of bamboo stalks,
sharpened at the tops and bound with native rope-vine. Farther on
still were a dozen shelters, and here could be seen several women and
children sitting in the doorways.
"Perhaps they can give us some information," said Larry, as they
approached the natives. As soon as they saw the Americans the children
shrieked dismally and rushed out of sight. But the women held their
ground, feeling that they would not be molested.
"See anything of our soldiers?" demanded Luke of the women, but one
and all shook their heads. "No Englees talk," mumbled one, meaning
they did not understand or speak our tongue.
The natives' manner made Larry suspicious, and he glanced around
hurriedly. As he did so there was a click of a trigger from behind
the bamboo fence.
"_Americanos_ surrender," came in bad English from back of the fence.
"Surrender quick, or we shoot both dead on the spot!"