Part 27 (1/2)

”Yes, something is coming,” added Boxer. ”I can tell it by the way the birds are flying about. They seem to be troubled.”

”I see a cloud away off to the southward,” put in Larry. ”It's not large, but it's mighty black.”

No more was said just then upon the subject; and they continued their journey down the mountain-side until they came to a fair-sized stream, where they quenched their thirst and took a wash. They were about to go on again when Boxer held up his hand as a warning.

”Great gophers, boys, we are running right into a nest of the rebels!” he whispered. ”Back with you, before it is too late.”

They looked ahead and saw that the scout was right. They started to go back; and as they turned, a Mauser rang out and a bullet clipped the bushes beside them.

”Discovered!” came from Leroy's lips. ”Larry, I'm afraid the jig is up. Those Filipi--”

Crack! It was Boxer's rifle that rang out, and as the scout was a sharpshooter, it may be taken for granted that he brought down his man. Then the three set off on a run along the side of the mountain to where a slight rise of ground promised better hiding.

”We can't do much against such a crowd,” said the scout. ”But in a good spot we can hold out awhile, provided one of you can use my pistol.”

”I can fire tolerably straight,” answered Leroy, and took the weapon.

Soon the rise was gained, and they plunged in behind a tangle of pines. The Filipinos were following them, although taking good care not to expose themselves needlessly to the fire of such a crack marksman as Boxer had proved himself to be.

From behind the tangle of growth, the three Americans watched the skilful advance of the enemy with dismay. ”They are trying to surround us!” whispered Boxer. Then like a flash his rifle went up. The report was followed by a yell of pain, and a Filipino fell into view from behind a tree less than fifty yards distant. The poor fellow was. .h.i.t in the side, but managed to crawl back into cover again, groaning dismally.

Leroy also fired, a second later, aiming at a tall Tagal who was crossing a clearing to their left. If he hit his mark, the rebel gave no sign, but the man disappeared in a great hurry. Then came a cras.h.i.+ng through the bushes below and to the left, proving that the Filipinos were ma.s.sing in those directions.

”Perhaps we had better try to crawl away from this--” began Larry, when a humming sound caught his ear. At the same time the sky grew black.

”Look! look!” yelled Leroy. ”What is this--the end of the world?”

All looked up. The humming had increased to a whistle, and now came a cras.h.i.+ng of trees and brush mingled with the wild cries of the Filipinos as they rushed away toward a near-by mountain stream. They knew what was coming, even if our friends did not.

And then the tornado was almost upon them. I say almost, for, thanks to an all-ruling Providence, it did not strike them fairly, but rushed to one side, where the Filipinos had been gathering. The light of day seemed to die out utterly, and the air was filled with flying debris and screaming birds and wild animals made homeless on the instant. The very earth seemed to quake with the violence of the trees uprooted, and branches and dirt flew all over the Americans, until they were buried as completely as Ben and his companions had been. Larry thought it was indeed the end of the world, and breathed a silent prayer that G.o.d might watch over him and those he loved.

At last the rus.h.i.+ng wind ceased, and the cras.h.i.+ng was lost in the distance. But the birds kept up their wild cries, and for several seconds neither Larry nor those with him moved, wondering if that was the end of the tornado, or if worse was to follow. But it was the end, and gradually they came forth one after another, to gaze on the mighty wreckage about them. It was Leroy who raised his hand solemnly to heaven.

”I thank G.o.d that we have been spared,” he said, and Larry and the scout uttered an amen.

Whether or not to leave the vicinity was a question. At last, seeing no more of the enemy, they plucked up courage enough to move down the mountain-side once more. But the tornado had made the pa.s.sage more difficult than ever, and several times they had to turn back.

Nightfall found them still some distance from the plain, with yet another jungle to pa.s.s before the open would be gained.

”We might as well make a night of it here,” said Boxer, and footsore and weary Larry and Leroy agreed with him. It was not long before all dropped asleep, too tired to stand guard, and hardly deeming that one was necessary.

The tornado had killed numerous birds and small animals, and it was easy to pick up a plentiful breakfast.

”I don't know about making a fire,” said Leroy. ”Those rebels may spot us before we are aware.”

Yet they were too hungry to go without eating, and in the end they built a fire of the driest wood they could find, and while Boxer cooked the birds, Larry and the old sailor scattered the smoke with their jackets, so that it might not go up in a cloud, and also kept their eyes open for the possible appearance of the rebels. But the tornado had scared the insurgents as much as it had anybody, and not one showed himself.

By eight o'clock they were once more on the way, Boxer leading with his gun ready for use, Larry in the centre, and Leroy bringing up the rear with the pistol.

They were just entering the jungle at the foot of the mountain when a strange moaning reached their ears and all halted. There was a silence, and then the moaning started up again.