CHAPTER XII
THE BROWN MEN AT BAY----FOR HOW LONG?
If Sergeant Hal, or any other soldier in that detachment of sixty men,had felt any nervousness before the fight started, everyone of them hadforgotten it by this time.
So far, not a man had they lost, and none had been even lightly hit. Thebravery of soldiers is usually founded on their confidence in theirofficers. Every man in the detachment now knew that Lieutenant RichardPrescott was an officer who would do all that lay before him to do, yetan officer who would not needlessly sacrifice the life or safety of anyman in his command. That discovery by the men goes far to make anofficer capable. Let the men once think their commander careless aboutslaughter, and they will not respond as quickly.
"Men," presently spoke the young officer, as coolly and slowly as thoughhe were explaining a manoeuvre in his once favorite game of football,"we have now to reach the house yonder, and there's a likelihood of ourbeing fired upon when we move forward. When I give the order you'll runslowly, at the gait set by Sergeant Overton, who will be ahead of you.If you hear the command to lie down, drop in your tracks. But let noman lie down until he hears the word. We may have to employ half a dozenrushes in reaching the house. Rise! Sergeant Overton to the front.Forward! Charge!"
Steadily and gallantly the little line swept forward. Hal Overton, whoknew the pace exactly, went forward at a trot that did not vary by asmuch as a step to the minute.
In the distance half a dozen rifles popped out singly. Some of thebullets whistled by, others struck the ground near them, ploughing upthe dirt.
If any soldier looked for Lieutenant Prescott to order them down, he wasin error. Another hundred yards they covered. Then a volley rang outfrom the men hidden in the grove, and Private Danes dropped, thoughwithout a cry.
"Lie down!" shouted Prescott steadily, though he remained with his fieldglass to his eyes, searching the grove. "Sergeant Overton, see how badlyDanes is hurt."
Hal strode over to where the wounded man lay.
"Oh, it ain't nothing, Sarge," growled Private Danes disgustedly. "Justenough to give me a toothache in the hip."
Yet the poor fellow pointed to a bloodstained spot right over the centerof the hip bone. Danes's left leg would never again be sound enough tomarch with his comrades. Perhaps the man realized it, but he was asoldier, and therefore made no fuss.
"You'll have to lie quiet, Danes," returned Sergeant Hal. "We'll get youout of this."
Just then Private Kelly raised his head for a look at the adjacentgrove.
As he did so a shot rang out over in the grove and Kelly uttered anexclamation of disgust.
"Hit, Kelly?" queried Sergeant Hal, stepping over to him.
Private Kelly spat out two loose front teeth and some blood.
"Ye see what happened, Sarge," retorted Kelly. "It's a good thing thefellow drew a bead on me profile. But I ain't kicking at getting adentist's services for nothing. No, that ain't my kick."
"What is wrong, then?" laughed Hal.
"Why, that blamed bullet was hot, and the Moro made me swallow it! Itwas so hot that it burned all the way down! Got any ice, Sarge?"
A burst came from a dozen distant rifles at once. Bullets tore throughthe air around Lieutenant Prescott as he stood, still with his fieldglass to his eyes. Looking around, however, he saw Hal standing, andcommanded severely:
"If you're through with your work, Sergeant Overton, lie down. Ready,men, for just one volley. Load; aim--at the front timber line of thatgrove. Fire!"
Hardly had the crashing volley ripped out when again the young officer'svoice was heard:
"Rise, forward, charge!"
This time the line moved with a yell, the two men who carried Danesyelling as loudly as the rest.
"Halt! Lie down!"
They were within two hundred yards of the Seaforth house now. The frontdoor of that building had been thrown open, though no one appeared asyet in the doorway.
It began to look as though the Moros had withdrawn, or else were waitingfor something, for no shots came from the enemy.
Again, at command, the detachment rose and rushed forward, this timewithout cheering.
"Lie down!"
Uncle Sam's men dropped in their tracks, close to the house.
Now, Seaforth, the planter, appeared in the doorway.
"Captain, I hope I needn't tell you that you and your men are welcome,"came Seaforth's greeting. He was hardly a middle-aged man, but threeyears of planter's life in Mindanao had brought deep gray streaks intohis hair.
"I've a wounded man to bring inside," announced young Prescott.
"Bring him right in, sir; we'll make him as comfortable as we can."
Private Danes fainted while being lifted and carried into the house. Hewas soon after revived, however. The two men who had brought him in nowused a first-aid package in dressing the wound, after they had washedit.
In the meantime Lieutenant Prescott discovered that none of the whitesin the house had been hit, though one of the loyal Moro defenders of thehouse had been killed and two others wounded.
Then the lieutenant told of Edwards's death. A young woman in the roompromptly fainted.
"That's Miss Daly, the school teacher," explained Mr. Seaforth. "She andEdwards were engaged to be married."
Outside more shots sounded. Lieutenant Prescott ran to the door.
Sergeant Hal, however, had detailed twenty of his men to answer thefire, whenever they saw anything to shoot at, while the others had beenordered to get to work with their intrenching tools.
This tool, in appearance, is about half way between a bayonet and atrowel. With it a soldier can lie on the ground, digging and throwing updirt before him, while he opens a shallow trench in which to lie andconceal himself from the enemy's fire.
"Don't waste any ammunition, Sergeant. Have your men shoot to hit,"directed the officer. "I'm going back into the house, but send for me ifyou see any suspicious move on the part of the Moros."
"Yes, sir," and Sergeant Overton turned his face towards the enemy.
Though he made his men remain prostrate on the ground, Hal Overton stoodup. He was using the lieutenant's field glass.
The walls of the planter's house were riddled with bullets, for thishouse had not been constructed as a fort. Along the outer walls,however, bags of earth had been piled in such a way as to affordcomparative safety to the defenders.
"Those of us who weren't fighting," explained Mr. Seaforth, "have beenengaged for hours in digging dirt in the cellar and bringing it up inthe sacks. But it was a fearful morning until you arrived. Now, our onlydanger is from a stray bullet. The Moros won't come any closer--theywon't dare to charge the house with such a force of troops here todefend the place."
Lieutenant Prescott Climbed One of the Wooden PorchColumns.]
"Not unless the rascals are reinforced," replied Prescott. "There is notelling how many of the natives are concerned in this uprising.Hello--pardon me a moment."
Through the open doorway Prescott had caught sight of something movingdown the highway. He ran speedily outside, got his glasses from SergeantHal and returned to the porch, where he climbed one of the woodencolumns. Now he brought the glass to his eyes.
"What do you see?" asked Mr. Seaforth.
"I see," chuckled the lieutenant quietly, "that it was well for us thatwe left the road and came through the forest. Yonder are at least twohundred Moros marching along. There, they are debouching into the forestand will soon be added to the attacking party here. Those fellows wentdown the road to ambush us on the way, for they received a signal thatwe were on the road. We fooled them, but we shall have to reckon withthem here, and within fifteen minutes. Mr. Seaforth, send all yourpeople down into the cellar of the house. There they will be safe. Thisis a job for the Army alone!"
"But----"
"I am in command here, sir, and I direct you to send all of your ownpeople to the cellar at once. That will free our minds of any dread forthe safety of your people
, and will leave us open to handle the problemthat is coming to us."
Then, quite regardless of the fine mark that he presented to possiblesharpshooters over in the grove, Lieutenant Prescott stepped outside.
"Sergeant Overton!"
"Sir?"
Hal stepped beside his officer. Thereupon the enemy's riflemen tookheart and drove in a score of bullets. Lieutenant Prescott's hat wasshot from his head. Two bullets passed through the edge of thesergeant's right trousers' leg, one hole showing just above the other.The back of Hal's left hand was grazed just enough to show the blood.The stick that the lieutenant carried was cut in two by a bullet andhalf of the stick carried away from him.
"Sergeant," chuckled the lieutenant, "you've heard the expression,'observed of all observers.' Now you know just how it feels."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, we've got to be quick, Sergeant. We must throw our men all aroundthe house, and dig trenches as fast as we can. Unless I miss my guess,the enemy will--well, what?"
"The Moros will try to overwhelm us with a reckless charge, sir,"answered the young sergeant.
Uncle Sam's Boys in the Philippines; or, Following the Flag against the Moros Page 12