THE ADVANCE UPON SAN ISIDRO
"Why, Luke Striker, is it possible! I thought you had sailed for the
United States on the _Olympia_."
"Well, ye hadn't no right to think that, captain," responded the old
gunner, as he shook hands warmly. "It might be that the others could
go away and leave Larry behind, but he's too much my boy for me to do
that--yes, sirree. When I hears as we were to set sail for the States,
I goes up to the admiral himself, an' says I: 'Admiral,' says I, 'do
you remember how Larry Russell an' yer humble servant comes on board
of the _Olympia_?' says I. 'Yes,' says he. 'I remember it well,' says
he. 'Well,' says I, 'Larry is ashore, a prisoner of the enemy,' says
I. 'I don't want to go for to leave him, nohow. Can't you leave me
behind,' says I. And he laughs and asks me all about Larry, and
finally says I can go ashore and report to Rear Admiral Watson--who
is comin' on--sometime later. And here I am, come to the front, to
find Larry, ef sech a thing is possible."
The old sailor's honest speech went straight to Ben's heart, and he
saw very plainly how deep was Luke's affection for his younger
brother. "You're a messmate worth having, Luke!" he exclaimed. "I
don't wonder Larry thought so much of you."
"Avast, I'm only a common sea-dog at the best, captain,--an ef I
remained behind to cast around fer the lad, ye mustn't think thet Jack
Biddle an' the others have forgotten Larry, fer they ain't, not by a
jugful. Every man jack o' them is his friend, an' was, almost from the
start."
Luke had come up to the camp by way of Malolos, accompanying a
pack-train of caribao carts carrying rations and army equipments. He
had left the _Olympia_ several days before, and had not waited to
witness the departure of the flagship.
As Luke wished to remain with Ben, the latter lost no time in
presenting the matter to Colonel Darcy and to Major Morris, and Luke
was taken into the regiment camp as a cook, for he had once been a
cook on a merchantman, years before. The position was largely an
honorary one, and the sailor was permitted to leave his pots and
kettles whenever he pleased.
"It's good news," he said, when the young captain had told him what
the prisoners had said about Larry and Benedicto Lupez. "I've an idee
we'll get to Larry soon, an' down thet tarnal Spaniard in the
bargain."
The conversation took place on Tuesday. On Wednesday orders came to
strike camp, and the march of the regiment was taken toward San Isidro
by way of Baluarte, a small village seven miles to the southeast of
the new rebel capital. In the meantime, although the Americans were
not aware of it, Aguinaldo was preparing to decamp, with his so-called
congress, into the mountain fastnesses, still further northward.
"We are in for another fight," said Major Morris, as he came to Ben
that afternoon. "And I've an idea it is going to be something to the
finish."
"That means, then, that we are bound for San Isidro!" cried the young
captain. "Hurrah! that's the best news I've heard in a week."
The regiment was soon on the road, spread out in proper battalion
form. The day was close, and it looked as if a thunderstorm was at
hand. The growth along the road was thick, and at certain points the
overhanging branches had to be cut off that the troops might pass. The
trail was bad, and often a gun, or wagon, had to stop so that a hole
might be bridged over with bamboo poles. Here and there they passed a
nipa hut, but these places were deserted, excepting in rare instances,
where an aged native would stand at the door, holding up a white rag
as a signal of surrender, or to show that he was an _amigo_, or
friend.
"It's pitiable," said Ben to Major Morris, as they trudged along side
by side. "I reckon some of these ignorant creatures have an idea that
we have come to annihilate them."
"You can be sure that Aguinaldo and his followers have taught them
something like that," replied the major. "Otherwise, they wouldn't
look so terrified."
At one point in the road, they came to a tumble-down hut, at the
doorway of which rested a woman and her three small children, all
watching the soldiers with eyes full of terror. Going up to the
woman, Ben spoke kindly to her, but she immediately fled into the
dilapidated structure, dragging her trio of offspring after her.
"You can't make friends that way," cried Major Morris. "They won't
trust you. I've tried it more than once."
There was now a hill to climb, thick with tropical trees and brush.
The regiment had scarcely covered a hundred feet of the ascent, when
there came a volley of shots from a ridge beyond, which wounded two
soldiers in the front rank.
"The rebels are in sight!" was the cry. "Come on, boys, let us drive
'em back! On to San Isidro!" And away went one battalion after
another, fatigued by a two miles' tramp, but eager to engage once more
in the fray. It was found that the insurgents had the ridge well
fortified, and General Lawton at once spread out his troops in a
semicircle, in the hope of surrounding the ridge and cutting off the
defenders from the main body of Aguinaldo's army.
Ben's regiment was coming, "head on," for the top of the ridge. The
way was over ground much broken by tree-stumps, rocks, and entangling
vines, that brought many a soldier flat.
"Sure, an' it's a rigular fish-net!" spluttered Dan Casey, as he tried
in vain to rise, with vines ensnaring both arms and legs. "I don't
know but phwat a fellow wants a wire-cutter here, just as they had 'em
in Cuby to cut the wire finces wid."
"Nefer mind, so long as we got by der dop of dot hill," answered Carl
Stummer, as he hauled his mate out of the entanglement. "Be dankful
dot you ain't parefooted by dem dorns." And on went both once more.
There was many a slip and a tumble, but very little grumbling.
"Down!" The cry came from the front, and down went Ben's company into
a little hollow, for the rebels had them in plain view now, and the
two lines were less than three hundred yards apart. A volley from the
insurgents followed, but nobody was struck.
"Forward twenty-five yards!" cried Ben, and up went the company for
another dash. It was a soul-trying moment, and none felt it more than
the young commander, who ran on ahead to inspire his men. He knew that
at any instant a bullet might hit him to lay him low forever. But his
"baptism of fire" had been complete, and he did not flinch.
"Hot work, this!" The words came from Gilmore as he came up the hill
close to Ben. "It's going to be no picnic taking that ridge."
"True, Gilmore; but it's got to be done," answered the young
commander. "Down!" he shouted, and again the company fell flat. Then
began a firing at will, which lasted the best part of ten minutes. The
insurgents, likewise, fired, and a corporal and a private were wounded
and had to be carried to the rear.
Looking around, Ben espied Luke Striker in the ranks of Company D. The
old sailor had provided himself with a rifle and an ammunition belt,
and was popping away at a lively rate.
"I couldn't help it," said Luke, when the young captain came up to
him. "It's the best fun I've had sence thet air muss in Manila Bay,
when we blowed old Montojo out o' the water, off Cavite. Say, but
we'll git to the top o' the hill afore long, jes' see ef we don't!"
And Luke blazed away again, and so Ben left him.
The rest of the battalion was now closing in, and soon another
advance was made, until the first line of the American troops was
less than a hundred and fifty yards away from the insurgents' outer
intrenchments. Then a yell came from a jungle on the left.
"What's that? more rebels?" cried Ben, and listened.
"No, no, the Filipinos are retreating!" came from a score of throats.
"See, they are scattering like sheep! Up the hill, fellows; the fight
is ours!" And a regular stampede occurred, each command trying to get
to the top of the ridge first. The rebels were indeed retreating into
a thicket behind the ridge. They went less than half a mile, however,
and then made another stand, this time on the upper side of a mountain
stream,--the very stream at which Larry and his companions had stopped
after the escape from the caves under the mountain.
To ford the stream would have been an easy matter under ordinary
circumstances, but with the rebels guarding the upper bank, it was
extremely hazardous, and the regiment came to a halt on the edge of
the brush overhanging the water.
"They are straight ahead, boys," said Major Morris, after his scouts
had reported to him. "We will make a detour to the right. Forward, and
on the double-quick!"
Every soldier felt that delay would mean a serious loss, and a rapid
rush was made through the jungle to a point where the stream became
rocky and winding. Here an excellent ford was found, and they went
over in column of fours. They could now enfilade the rebels' position,
and this they did so disastrously that the Filipinos speedily threw
down a large part of their arms and fled helter-skelter into the
mountain fastnesses still further to the northward.
The battle over, the battalion came to rest under the shade of the
trees lining the stream, many of the soldiers throwing themselves down
in a state bordering upon exhaustion, for the humidity in the air told
upon them greatly. There was not a breath of a breeze, and the water
hardly quenched the thirst that raged within them. As Major Morris
declared, 'It was the primest place to catch a fever in' he had ever
seen.
Ben was sitting at the foot of a tall tree talking to Gilmore, when he
saw the advance guards bringing in two Americans, one evidently a
sailor. At once he sprang to meet the sailor, thinking the man might
know something about Larry.
The two men proved to be Dan Leroy and Boxer, the scout, and when he
mentioned his brother's name to them, both were of course astonished.
"Do we know him!" cried Leroy. "Sure and didn't he and I run away
together from the rebels, and Boxer, here, helping us to get out of
the prison caves. Yes, yes, I know Larry well." And then Leroy told of
the escape from the caves, and of how all three of the party had
become lost in the swamp lands.
"We were in the swamps two days, and thought we would never get out,"
he continued. "Luckily, we had some caribao meat with us; otherwise we
should have starved to death. The swamps were full of mosquitoes and
lizards and lots of other things, and we were almost eaten up alive,
eh, Boxer?"
"So we were," replied the scout.
"But what of my brother?" asked Ben, impatiently.
At this the faces of both of the men fell.
"We can't say what became o' him," said the sailor from the
_Yorktown_. "You see, after we got out of the swamp, we determined to
stick to the high ground until we found a regular trail leading to
the south. Well, our walk took us up to a high cliff overlooking a
gorge filled with trees and bushes. We were walking ahead, with Larry
at our heels, as we thought, when Boxer chanced to look around, and
the boy was gone."
"Gone!" gasped Ben, in horror.
"Yes, gone! We couldn't understand it, and called to him, but he
didn't answer. Then we went back about quarter of a mile, past the
spot where we had seen him last, and fired the pistol as a signal. But
he had disappeared totally, and we couldn't find hide nor hair o' him,
try our level best."
The confession was a sickening one, and for several minutes Ben could
not trust himself to speak.
"And--and what do you think became of my brother?" he asked, at
length.
Both men shrugged their shoulders. "I'm afraid he fell over the
cliff," said Boxer. "You see, the footpath was narrow and mighty
slippery in spots."
At once Ben's mind went back to that scene in far-away Cuba, when
Gerald Holgait had fallen over a cliff. Had a similar fate overtaken
his brother? and if so, was he still alive or had he been dashed to
his death?
"How far is that spot from here?" he demanded abruptly.
"Not over a mile, cap'n," answered Boxer.
"I see you are a scout. Can you take me to the place?"
"Certainly--but--but--it's mighty risky, cap'n--so many rebs lurking
about."
"Never mind--I must find Larry, alive or dead. Take me to him, and
I'll pay you well for your services."
"I ain't asking a cent, cap'n--that ain't my style."
"Then you will take me?"
"I will," said Boxer, promptly. "Only I'll have to report first and
get official permission."
"Major Morris will arrange that for you, I feel certain," answered
Ben, turning to the major, who sat near, drinking in the conversation.
"Yes, I'll arrange that," said the major. "But I don't see how I am
going to do without you, captain."
"Would you keep me from looking for my brother?"
"No, no, go ahead, and Gilmore can take the company."
So it was arranged; and inside of quarter of an hour Ben and Boxer
were ready to depart.
"Captain, can't I go with ye?" It was Luke Striker who asked the
question. The anxious look on his face spoke more eloquently than
words, and Ben consented without argument.
And so the three set off on the search for Larry, little dreaming of
the strange happenings in store for them.