The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1900-08-15

| last dCCuiiluldllnB III tHS SultCl . pol
tom. At this moment it seemed to m
my boat crew had almost disappeared
AS matter of fact, two men We're ly
ing in the bottom of the boat, dead
Two were mortally wounded-Dillol
was just then dying. Two more wert
seriously wounded. and two or three
who had been toppled over by the fal
of their comrades, were struggling ove1
from under the mass Of bleeding flesh
The wounded We're begging us to shoe
them, that they might not fall into tht
hands of the savages. Their cries were
heart-rending. There was blood every
| Where-on men, oars thWarts, guns
Still, those of us who survived and who
! We're able to handle rifle, managed tC
return the enemy's fire. The worst was
we could not see any one to shoot at
| We could not even see the smoke from
the insurgents rifles. so Warily did they
| cling to their ambush in the thick I'M
| dergroWth | remember most WILDLY
the fierce desire I had at that moment
| to get back at the foe-to see some OF
them fall and bite the dust and Writhe
in pain as our men were doing. For a
short time the fighting instinct crowded
out of my mind pity and fear.
Having no other weapon than re-
volver useless at that range, I reached
for the rifle dropped by one of the dead.
1t had been hit in the lock, and the clip
was damned in.
Venvile, one of our apprentice boys,
attempted to fix it, A bullet went
through the flesh of his neck
''Mr, Gilmore, I'm hit he said. But
he continued working at the rifle.
A second shot ploughed through the
boys breast and came out in his arm
pit.
I'm hit again, Mr. Gilmore!"
He was still trying to pull out the
damned clip when a ball cut furrow
in the left side of his head.
Mr., Gilmore, they've hit me again."
He wiped the blood from his brow
and eyes with his coat sleeve, and then
returned to his task as calmly as If 1t
were only mosquito that had stung
him. 1t was not three minutes till a
ball crashed into his ankle, inficting a
painful hurt There was just a slight
culver In the lads voice as he looked up
to me and said:
Mr. Gilmore Pm hit once more. But
I've fixed the gun, sire
This beardless boy of seventeen had
never been under fire before.
Here they come, after ala motley
crew, like savages, half nude, some in
shirts, some with only trousers a few
with nothing more than breech-clouts,
armed with bolos, spears and a rifle
here and there, all mad with joy, yelling
and brandishing their weapons-run-
ming down the spit of sand from the
right bank Of the river. They were Ia
gals, Principles and other tribesmen.
BY my order the white flag was hoisted
at this moment, The man who held it
aloft received a ball in the wrist and
the banner came hutterng down to the
bottom of the boat. If the tide would
not let us get away, if the foe would not
permit us to make surrender, there was
one thing we could do with what
strength we had left, and that was to
go on fighting, We resumed our fire.
From the left bank we heard nothing
up to this time but the crack of unseen
rifles. Now voice rang out from the
thicket. 1t announced to us in Spanish
that unless We ceased firing and sur
rendered we should all be murdered in
our tracks. The tones We're those of an
officer-a voice accustomed to command
and realizing that the threat might
quickly be made good, I threw up my
arms in token Of submission. There
were no more shots.
In an instant the savage band were
upon us. They were wild with excite
ment. They jabbered necessarily. and
threatened us with their bolos and
spears. But they did us no harm One
by one, those of us who We're living they
took out of the boat. They We're not
rough or cruel. They treated the
wounded carefully. More than our lives
they appeared to covet our personal be-
longings In a twnkling we We're
stripped of our coats, hats, shoes They
rified our pockets for money and watch
es. They even pulled the rings from
our fingers. All this time my men were
that he should be fed as we'll as posi-
calm and silent, They did not resist.
Then the natives lined us up in row
on the sandbar. They tied our hands
behind our backs with bamboo thongs.
We thought they We're merely making
ready to carry us away as prisoners.
But soon we perceived it was worse
than that-they We're going to shoot us.
BY signs I objected to having my arms
bound. I tried to show that 1t was my
right as an officer to die with my hands
free. This brought on difference of
opinion, noisy discussion, among our
captors, who, though soldiers in the
Filipino army, appeared to be without
officers and without discipline. The de-
lay thus secured short as it was, served
a good purpose. The natives who car
fied guns stepped out in front of us.
They lowered their rifles and cooked
them They We're taking aim. I was
lust thinking: "Well, 1t will all be over
N a few seconds-why did / not take
lut more life insurance before I left
lome?' when we heard a shout from
he right bank We all looked that
way, Tagals and Americans. A native
officer came running toward us along
he sand spit. He was shouting and
2randishinG a sword. We did not un-
ierstand him, but the Filipinos did.
Fhey dropped their rifles and crowded |
lbout us. We We're not to be shot so 1t
iidn't make any difference about that |
ife insurance, after all.
After travelling forty miles or more
llong this winding. painful path we at
asst reached the level table land and the |
own of Puntabanca. Here, as every
where along our route, the news that |