Part 12 (1/2)
”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 gra.s.s.
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 gra.s.s 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 more of 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 treachery which 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 fas.h.i.+onable 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 could run the _Americano_ through 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 p.r.i.c.ked 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 pa.s.sed 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 cras.h.i.+ng 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 sight of 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, captain?” 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.”