THE MIDSHIPMEN RECONNOITRE
The midshipmen were so utterly astonished at the actions of their
fanatical enemies that they could only gasp out their surprise in one
heartfelt word of relief. Then a familiar voice at their elbow awoke
them from their stupefied inactivity. It was in Visayan and they turned
to gaze into the impassive face of Rodriguez.
“I have ordered them to escape,” he added in Spanish, casting a quick
glance toward the squad of soldiers. “Poor fellows, it would be a pity
to kill them, for they are but acting under orders.”
The lads were too grateful to their rescuer for saving their lives to
make useless inquiries as to why his influence could be exerted over
the acts of their enemy. Phil’s first thought was for the men whom the
captain had left them to guard.
“Surround this house,” he commanded, and the sergeant in charge gave a
short command and led the way himself to the rear of the large native
building.
“It is too late, señor commandante,” Rodriguez said shaking his head;
“they have all escaped through the rear door and are by now safely
away.”
The midshipmen ran quickly up the steps and gazed disappointedly into
the gloom beyond. The floor still lay at the bottom of the cellar, the
bamboo spears sticking half-way through, but the natives had gone. The
back door stood open and to the ground was a jump of twenty feet. They
had safely escaped while the lads were engaged defending themselves
against the attack of the bolo-men.
“I am on my way to see General Wilson,” Rodriguez announced after a
search had failed to disclose any signs of the fugitives, “and offer my
services.”
“Do you mean that you will fight with us against the insurgents?” Phil
asked in glad surprise.
“Yes, from now on I shall aid the Americans to restore order in the
island of Kapay,” Rodriguez replied, pleased at the cordial reception
given him by the two midshipmen.
Together the party made their way back to headquarters in search of
Captain Blynn.
“It was providential that I happened along,” Rodriguez said after they
had passed through the sentries; “those bolo-men knew me and obeyed my
sign. I see,” he added smilingly, “that you are already arresting the
traitors.”
“We were not very successful with Señor Cardero and his friends
yonder,” Sydney exclaimed ruefully, “but I suppose we should be
thankful to have gotten off so easily.”
“Cardero is one of the craftiest of our outlaws,” Rodriguez returned.
“It is a marvel to me how he could have remained unmasked so long. Of
course,” he added, “I have known of this intrigue for some months, but
until they deliberately plotted against my life I could not betray
them.”
“Have you discovered who is the Katipunan leader who tried to murder
you last night?” Sydney asked excitedly.
“Yes,” Rodriguez replied. “You have doubtless guessed that he was
Espinosa. I know it now for sure. He has gone to Matiginao, where
there is a strong fort, and is in command of all the insurgent forces
there. The bullet only crippled him last night, and I hear he is
rapidly recovering. General Diocno was murdered last night in his bed
and no doubt I should have shared the same fate.”
They were by this time at the headquarters building, and were glad to
find that Captain Blynn had returned. The midshipmen informed the army
man of their luckless adventure and stood in silence expecting to hear
his harsh rebuke for allowing such important prisoners to escape, but
he only grasped their hands and congratulated them upon their rare good
fortune.
“By George,” he exclaimed excitedly, “we’ve been contentedly living
over an active volcano. It’s a marvel we haven’t all been massacred
long ago.
“Every native of any consequence in the town has departed,” he added
sadly.
“Rodriguez with you, and wishes to aid us?” he cried gladly, as Phil
told of the intention of the wealthy native. “Well, that certainly is
cheering news.”
Rodriguez came into the office and stood with dignified bearing before
the big judge-advocate.
“So you are tired of being neutral?” the army officer said pointedly in
Spanish. “Do you wish to occupy the position just vacated by our mutual
friend Espinosa?”
Rodriguez drew himself up proudly while the midshipmen gasped at this
harsh arraignment.
“I do not blame you, señor,” the native answered, no evidence of
anger on his placid face. “I know that you can have but little reason
to trust the honesty of the men of my race. But I do not desire a
position. I am now ready to take the field with my men, heretofore
neutral. I have three hundred rifles.”
“You are ready then to take the oath of allegiance?” Captain Blynn
asked in official tones.
“Yes, señor, and keep it,” Rodriguez returned, his eyes unflinching.
“Have you any news that will lead to our knowing the whereabouts of
Lieutenant Tillotson?” Blynn asked.
“Ah, I have,” the native answered eagerly. “I was about to ask you--my
spies report a captive with Espinosa.”
The Americans gave sighs of relief. At least Tillotson was alive.
General Wilson received Señor Rodriguez with marked courtesy and
appointed him on the spot a colonel in command of his own men whom he
offered to enlist as native troops, rationing and feeding them from
army funds, but Rodriguez declined the latter, agreeing to defray all
expenses.
The midshipmen insisted that their new ally should go down to the dock
and inspect the gunboat, so after explaining to General Wilson that
they would like to be absent for a few days on reconnaissance work, the
three strolled leisurely down the street.
“Where is Colonel Martinez?” Phil asked after they had arrived on board
and the Chinese servant had brought refreshments.
Rodriguez shrugged his shoulders and pointed toward the interior of the
island.
“Will he serve under Espinosa as leader?” Sydney asked incredulously.
“Who knows?” Rodriguez answered evasively.
The lads saw that their friend had reasons for being non-committal and
tactfully ceased their interrogation, yet inwardly they were consumed
with curiosity. Espinosa had attempted to kill Colonel Martinez on the
morning of Blynn’s attack, and now would they serve amicably side by
side against a common enemy?
The hour for lunch arrived, and as Rodriguez was not leaving for
several hours to return to his home up the river he gladly accepted the
midshipmen’s pressing invitation to eat with them.
Phil had made up his mind to explore the river, though this idea was
unformed in his mind when he left headquarters.
During the meal the midshipmen questioned their guest about Espinosa’s
impregnable stronghold and of its approach by water.
“There is a trail from my ranch to the foot of the mountain,” Rodriguez
replied thoughtfully, “but it will be filled with traps, and will be
dangerous if Espinosa hears an attack is to be attempted. The river
flows through a narrow gorge at Matiginao, and from the cliffs huge
boulders can be dropped into the river many hundred feet below.
“The gunboat!” he exclaimed in amazement, after Phil had questioned
in regard to the depth of water. “If it were possible!” Rodriguez
glanced admiringly at the heavy cannon mounted near him. “Yes, with
this gunboat in the river the tops of the cliffs could be swept, and
soldiers could scale the difficult trail unopposed, and once through
the narrows the trail leading from the stronghold could be commanded by
the cannon to cut off the retreat of the insurgents. It is wonderful!
But the bridge, Señor Perry,” he ended, his voice betraying his sudden
disappointment; “it is strongly built and a gunboat cannot pass.”
“If I find there’s water enough to float the ‘Mindinao,’” Phil replied
assuredly, “the bridge will not stand in the way long.
“Does your daughter know the country?” Phil asked earnestly.
Rodriguez gazed a full minute at his questioner before he answered.
“Every foot of it,” he added; “she was born near the stronghold. But
what is your intention, señor? This is no work for a woman.”
Phil would willingly have bitten off his tongue for having led him
into such an embarrassing situation. He could not tell Rodriguez that
he wanted Maria because she alone would he trust as a guide on the
perilous mission which he had made up his mind to make.
Major Marble fortunately arrived at this moment and saved the lad from
becoming more deeply involved. He gave them the latest news.
“Tillotson’s father is keeping the wires hot,” he told them. “We are
ordered to spare nothing to recapture him, but of course we shall do
that anyway. The general has wired back the good news the señor has
brought, that Tillotson is believed to be a prisoner and alive.”
Before the party dispersed, Phil confided to his hearers his plan to
explore the river and his intention to start that very night.
“Then you will visit me on my ranch?” Rodriguez exclaimed gladly.
“Everything I have is at your service,” he added with the grandiloquent
air of a Spanish gentleman.
Phil nodded gratefully, realizing that unlike the Spaniard, whose form
of address the native copied, Rodriguez made no empty offer.
“I believe,” the lad continued, a spark of enthusiasm in his voice,
“that a gunboat of the tonnage of this vessel is capable of reaching
the insurgent stronghold.”
“If you can accomplish that,” Major Marble exclaimed excitedly, “you
and your ‘Mindinao’ will make an enviable name for yourselves, for once
that stronghold is taken we shall have many surrenders throughout the
island.”
“Why not force the insurgents to concentrate on Matiginao,” Phil asked
earnestly, “and attack them there?”
“The general has already sent out orders,” Major Marble told them,
smiling at the lad’s eagerness, “to attack the insurgents wherever
they can be located and for all the troops to concentrate on Palilo,
leaving small garrisons in the towns to guard the peaceful natives. He
is working up a big plan to attack this stronghold with a large force,
and will undoubtedly take the field in person. He is determined to
rescue Tillotson, and will give Espinosa no rest until he is captured
or killed.”
The midshipmen listened in delight to this plan, which fitted in so
well with their own ideas.
The major soon departed, promising short work in destroying the bridge
if the lads discovered the river to be navigable above the house of
Rodriguez.
O’Neil was ordered to have a boat’s crew of four men ready to leave the
gunboat at one o’clock at night. The distance to Rodriguez’s ranch was
somewhat over fifteen miles and the lads did not desire to be seen, so
they would pass at night and be safely within friendly land by sunrise.
Rodriguez left them soon after to return by land and promised a hearty
welcome on their arrival up the river.
Promptly at one o’clock the expedition started. O’Neil had provided the
usual gear for surveyors; a compass, a lead line, and also a rifle for
each man and a revolver for himself.
Silently they shoved off and rowed with muffled oars up the river, and
under the bridge, built substantially in the days of the Spaniards. “A
few charges of dynamite would settle it,” Phil thought.
Already O’Neil had uncoiled his lead line and was sounding in the
channel of the river.
“It’ll be a cinch, sir,” the boatswain’s mate exclaimed after several
soundings had given him no less than four fathoms of water. “Seven feet
is all we need and we can carry that for miles until the mountains
commence to go up steep; then there’ll be rocks to look out for.”
Mile after mile was pulled in silence except for the light dip of the
oars and the dull, almost soundless splash of the lead as it was heaved
a short distance forward of the boat.
The midshipmen gazed with apprehension at the forbidding banks of the
river. The rank tropical foliage would conceal an army. Riflemen might
lie concealed and fire without the slightest fear of discovery.
Gradually the river narrowed, but the depth of water did not grow less.
It was just before dawn when the boat arrived at the bend behind
which, by the description given them, would be the landing pier of the
Rodriguez ranch.
In a half hour the boat was being cared for by one of the many willing
attendants and the sailors were escorted to the palatial residence of
Señor Rodriguez.
It was the señorita who came first to meet her old friends.
“Now we are fighting together,” she exclaimed gladly, “and I would like
to go out as a man and help.”
Phil thought that nothing so far had deterred her. She had seen as much
fighting as most men and had withstood it bravely, and he said so to
her.
“You might be valuable, señorita, to put courage in men’s hearts,”
Sydney added smiling, “but you would not be very formidable as a
soldier.”
Maria bit her lips vexedly.
“I can shoot as well as a man,” she cried half angrily, “and I can ride
a horse and paddle a canoe. What more is needed?”
“Something which is not in your makeup,” Phil answered admiringly. “You
are not vindictive and are not cruel. But you can do us a favor, if you
will. We want to explore the country between here and Matiginao.”
Maria clapped her hands with joy.
“I know every foot of the country,” she cried eagerly. “You couldn’t
have better guides than my little brother and I. But,” she added, her
voice becoming lower and a fear in her eyes, “my father is now an enemy
to the ladrones and insurgents, and it is unsafe to wander away on the
lonely trails.”
Phil and Sydney exchanged glances as much as to say, “There is your
woman’s argument. One moment she wants to fight and the next she speaks
of danger.”
Señor Rodriguez welcomed the midshipmen, and together all sat down to a
large table where a delicious breakfast was served.
Phil saw his men were provided for, as he intended leaving them behind,
and after breakfast Maria led the party out where five finely bred
horses were held by native grooms.
Maria and Juan, who sat his pony as gracefully as if he were a part of
the animal, led the way across the open fields surrounding the ranch
houses. Then they plunged into a path cleaving the giant trees of the
tropical jungle. Limbs of trees brushed their faces and great care was
necessary to prevent themselves from being unhorsed.
Phil’s idea was for the boat to wait until dark, and then row up the
river as far as possible and return by morning, in order that the
general could be informed of the feasibility of the plan and the work
of destroying the bridge started. His party, meanwhile, were bent
on following this trail toward Matiginao, to reach the ranch before
the boat and wait for it. He realized that they were running a great
risk, but he believed the necessity for the information was worth the
risk run. The trail led mostly within sight of the snake-like river.
They passed many dwellings, most of them deserted of all save hungry
mongrels and starving pigs.
“This seems to be a fine trail,” Sydney said surprisedly, as they
walked their horses two abreast.
“It leads but five miles further,” Maria replied, “and from where it
ends, all other trails are those made by animals, and followed seldom
by men.”
At a brisk trot Maria started ahead. The jungle bent away from the
road, leaving a high arched canopy over the heads of the travelers,
through which the tropical sun shone with sullen impotence.
“There is a small bungalow up here,” the girl announced in pleasurable
anticipation. “We shall have our lunch there. Before the big house was
built we lived there.”
“How long has it been since you were there?” Sydney asked in sudden
anxiety, the fear entering his mind that it might now have other
occupants.
“Not for years, señor,” the girl replied in a low voice. “It is very
lonesome, besides there are many pulijanes[3] in the mountains.”
The house soon appeared through the thick grove of cocoanut palms with
its unkept lawn sloping gently to the river. The grass in front of the
house was overhead high, and everything had grown wild and in luxuriant
profusion. The house itself was in ruins.
While Maria and little Juan had taken charge of the horses and tethered
them amid a good repast of alfalfa, the two lads strolled down to the
river.
“Hello, here are some canoes!” Phil exclaimed; “and they’ve been
tied here recently,” he added anxiously, as he saw clearly the fresh
footprints and the grass trodden down near the landing.
[Illustration: “_HELLO, HERE ARE SOME CANOES_!”]
The lads’ intention had been to investigate the depth of the water in
the river, but their startling discovery made them forget all else
save the visible evidence that a small body of men had recently landed
at this very spot and had taken the almost obliterated trail to the
abandoned house. Maria and her brother might even now be prisoners
among their enemy. The two midshipmen gazed at each other through eyes
wide with apprehension. What was to be done?
“We can’t desert the girl,” Sydney declared, gazing at the trodden
grass. “Otherwise we might reach the horses and escape before they
discover us.”
“Come,” Phil exclaimed, “there are not many of them, and maybe,” he
added reassuringly, “they are not all armed.”
The two lads walked noiselessly toward the house along the dim trail.
The building was now in plain sight. The wide porch with its profusion
of clinging vines was deserted. The long flight of bamboo steps was
half in ruins. To the right not a hundred yards distant their horses
were standing, their noses deep in the rich grass.
At the foot of the steps the midshipmen halted. There was a mysterious
silence in the air about them and they imagined that from the deserted
building unfriendly eyes were peering down upon them.
Phil gave a sigh of relief as he saw Maria, leading little Juan, come
slowly through the tall grass toward them from the neighborhood of the
horses. He made up his mind quickly. Nothing further could be gained
here, and the evidence that others had been on this spot very recently
was too strong not to take the warning. He caught Sydney’s arm and
wheeled him away from the house. The lads had not taken a half dozen
steps before a shrill cry from Maria riveted them in their tracks. Over
their shoulders they saw that now the porch was filled with natives who
were pointing their rifles at them menacingly.
“Come on, we might as well face them,” Phil whispered, his teeth
tightly clenched and with his hand on his pistol.
Turning, Phil led the way back to the steps, and there he halted,
glancing inquiringly at the unfriendly guns covering him.
A native, apparently an officer, dressed in a dull gray cotton uniform,
walked slowly toward him down the rickety steps.
“How dare you insult me and my friends on my own door-step?” Maria’s
voice was high pitched in anger. “These gentlemen are my guests. By
what right are you here?”
The Filipino officer had stopped half-way on the steps in surprise,
his revolver held in front of him. Unconsciously he dropped its muzzle
toward the ground and regarded the girl in unfeigned admiration.
“Pardon, señorita,” he said apologetically, using the Spanish of the
higher classes of Filipinos. “You, then, are Señorita Rodriguez, and
I ask your forgiveness for my rudeness. I thought these señores,”
indicating the two midshipmen with a nod of his head, “were Americans
and my enemies.”
Phil’s ears were startled by a loud peal of laughter, and he gazed in
almost horror at the girl, believing that she had become hysterical.
But a glance at her smiling face showed that her nerves were well in
hand. An angry flush suffused his face as it crossed his mind that this
was a trap of her own laying. But he blamed himself instantly for even
entertaining such a thought. What would she say? She must acknowledge
that he and Sydney were Americans, naval officers, though they were not
in uniform, having on khaki riding suits. Phil’s hand slowly drew out
his revolver from its holster, while his eyes were turned now on the
averted face of the native officer.
“From what part of the island have you come?” Maria asked quickly, the
smile of superiority still on her face and Phil saw that to the native
the smile was disconcerting.
“I am just from Matiginao,” he replied. “I came for fresh meat. To
forage on your father’s land.”
The smile died on Maria’s face, but luckily the native had withdrawn
his eyes and was regarding closely the young men before him.
Maria felt that the Filipino officer must know of her father’s enmity
to his new leader, Espinosa. Then as the native’s eyes again traveled
to her face the smile reappeared.
“I see all white men are to you Americans. These señores are my guests.
I vouch for them,” she told him in a confiding voice. “It was a natural
mistake for you to make, Señor----” she stopped questioningly, and he
supplied the name. “Salas, colonel in the Filipino army, señorita, at
your service,” he said bowing gallantly.
Maria had not guessed at the officer’s identity although she knew most
of the important leaders, having known them as a girl at her father’s
house before the war had begun. Now the mention of his name almost made
her heart stop beating. This frail creature, with the face and figure
of a boy, was feared by all who had fallen under his control. He had
won the unenviable reputation of being the most cruel of the insurgent
leaders, first in Luzon under Aguinaldo and then on the island of
Kapay. He was scarcely older than Phil, and yet he held the rank of
colonel.
“Your name, señor,” she smiled, “is one well known throughout Kapay.
In appearance you are not the ogre that you are painted.”
Colonel Salas’ white, even teeth gleamed between his thin lips. He
felt himself the master of the situation. Here was the proud daughter
of Rodriguez complimenting him. His small soul was nourished by the
thought that he was feared by all.
“Then, señorita,” he said, “if you do not consider me an ogre, will you
and your English friends accept the offer of a share in my frugal meal?
It is now ready inside.”
The midshipmen had watched with beating hearts this plucky girl’s brave
fence with the subtle native and as he pronounced the word English he
glanced at the silent lads. Phil thought he saw a gleam of joy in his
cruel eyes.
“They do not speak Spanish?” he asked, shrugging his shoulder
expressively as much as to answer the question himself in the negative.
It was better so; one could play the game better than two and the lads
now knew that Maria was an adept in diplomacy, and could be depended
upon to make a better and intelligent fight for their lives. That
their lives were in danger was but too evident to the lads. The native
soldiers still covered them with their rifles, and Colonel Salas had
moved to Maria’s side as they had talked, leaving the line of fire
quite clear. A word from him and a score of bullets would be tearing
through their bodies. Did the officer believe that they were English?
Had he already seen through the deception, and made up his mind to
maneuver so as to kill them at the least risk to himself and men? Phil
gauged the distance between himself and the insolent face of this young
colonel and resolved that the word of command to his men to fire should
be a dear one for the smiling colonel.