Bamboo Tales Part 2

We could not perform his last request.

BENITO.

"A-a-a-hum!" "What's that?" was the waking remark made by Captain Randolph Sever, as he slowly turned over on his back to face the owner of the voice which had so dimly penetrated the dreamless slumber resulting from a twenty-four-hour tour on outpost duty.

He struggled with his sleep-laden eyes and succeeded in opening one, with which he looked at the intruder, but, on recognizing the Colonel's orderly standing at his side, hastily arose to a sitting posture, and proceeded to rub open the other optic; meanwhile repeating his former question, but this time a.s.suming a manner more in keeping with the dignity of his rank.

"Sir, the Colonel presents his compliments, and asks the Captain to step over to regimental headquarters."

Having delivered his message, he saluted and disappeared, leaving his weary superior to gather himself into a more military appearance as well as frame of mind.

Sever looked at his watch and found that he had slept for just forty-eight minutes and fifteen seconds. He mentally berated the whole outfit. "Stepping over to regimental headquarters" meant a walk of a mile and a half through the relentless hot sun of a tropical country; for the dotting of an "i" or the crossing of a "t,"

which had carelessly been overlooked by both company commander and clerk. Then would follow the hair-splitting Colonel's permission to step back again.

The --th Infantry, arriving at Manila late in the spring of 1899, had taken its turn at doing duty on the outskirts of the city, and was now partic.i.p.ating in the nocturnal fights of the interior. It had been at San Fernando de Pampanga for a little more than a month and both officers and men showed the wear and tear of sleepless nights and tropical climate, which tested the hardihood of the stoutest const.i.tution among them.

With temper yet ruffled, Captain Sever retraced his steps to his bamboo hut. When he arrived there, he found three of his brother officers in possession. With that hearty and genial tone of good-fellows.h.i.+p which is only used and felt between men who have pa.s.sed through hards.h.i.+ps together, and know the true worth of each other, they greeted him.

He confided to them the cause of his unusual exertion after a trying night on outpost duty, and wearily dropped himself onto some ammunition-boxes, which were serving the purpose of a chair.

The talk naturally turned to the condition of affairs, but argument waned for lack of an opposing side--the unanimous opinion being that the "gugus" did not and never would know when they were "licked."

Sever arose, walked over to a native bed, and began cleaning his revolver, occasionally glancing toward the enemy's lines. Finally he said: "Say, Parsons, I wish you would reach up in that cracker-box above your head and hand me my gla.s.ses."

Lieutenant Parsons was a long, lank fellow, who never exerted himself any more than was absolutely necessary, so he simply unwound one of his arms, which was twisted around one of the posts of the bed, and blindly felt above till he found the article desired. Handing them to Sever, he indifferently asked: "What's going on over there?"

Without replying, Sever took the gla.s.ses and looked intently at the "gugu" trenches. Having satisfied his curiosity, he returned to his work of cleaning his "six-shooter"; then answered the almost forgotten question: "Oh, nothing, I guess; only I thought I saw a 'n.i.g.g.e.r'

running. Its such an unusual sight to see one of those fellows 'get a move on,' especially when the sun is beating down like it is now, unless something is after him--looks like there might be something up."

Parsons reached over for the gla.s.ses, got up, and walked to the door; but before he raised them to his eyes, he casually glanced to the right and stopped, saying: "h.e.l.lo! here comes the 'old man's' orderly, 'lickety split.'"

He had scarcely finished his favorite expression, "lickety split," when the orderly had ridden up, dispensed with the courtesy of dismounting, but hurriedly began: "The Commanding Officer directs that officers get their companies out at once, and proceed to the north outpost line. Messenger just in with information that the Filipinos are swarming over our outposts there."

He had no sooner delivered his message when the sounds of a few stray shots in the direction named were heard.

Sever, Parsons, and the other officers, experienced campaigners that they were, swiftly buckled on their revolvers, and in an incredibly short time were on the company parade-grounds shouting to their men--the few, who had not already turned out. Most of them had heard the message as it was given the officers, and had hastened to their huts, not waiting for instructions, warned their comrades of the impending fight, and again appeared with rifle and belt.

"Forward, double time; march," and Captain Sever was off with his company--superb fighting machine--for the line of battle.

The fire was now rapidly increasing. What at first sounded like a few heavy drops of rain on a tin roof was now an incessant shower.

On went the gallant company. Stray shots crashed through the thickets to the right and left of them; struck the earth in front and near them, throwing up great quant.i.ties of _debris_; others, singing their death-song, pa.s.sed uncomfortably close to their ears.

The outposts were now in sight. Some of them had been killed; others, wounded, were bravely striving to repress groans of pain.

It was a desperate fight--few against many. The natives were pouring down on the little handful of men like a great avalanche. The sure and deadly aim of the Americans alone served to impede the over-powering onslaught.

Reenforcements arrived none too soon. Just as the insurgents, intoxicated on "vino," beaten and sworn at by their officers, began a mad charge on the decimated ranks of the "Yankees," Sever had finished the deployment of his men in battle formation, and was ready to receive them.

Meanwhile, other companies arrived and were strengthening the lines to the right and left. Then began those destructive American volleys--one following another in quick succession. No flesh and bone could live under such fire.

The more advanced of the charging column were now within a few feet of the outpost's trenches; but here they wavered. Vacancies occurred in their ranks like the falling of gra.s.s before the blade. They hesitated. Their officers rushed wildly to and fro, excitedly waving their swords, shouting in their tw.a.n.gy language above the din of battle.

There was a brief halt; then the line broke, and a surging, terror-stricken ma.s.s of humanity trying to escape from this disastrous fire was all that was left of that hopeful army of insurrectos who but a moment before were so near experiencing the exhilaration of victory.

Word came down the line to cease firing. A moment later the expected charge was sounded by the Colonel's bugler. Up rose that khaki line, and, with that terrorizing American yell, swept like a whirlwind across the fields in pursuit of the flying natives.

It was just another of the many victories. The fight was now over. The enemy was pursued for several miles beyond the limits of the American lines, losing many in killed and wounded.

Most of the troops were withdrawn. Captain Sever with his company was detailed to search the field for killed and wounded.

The outposts returned to their stations, and there was nothing but the faint groans of the wounded, and the presence of the dead, to tell that but a few short moments before a deathly struggle had occurred between two determined armies.

Sever and his men had just started on their humane duty, performing it with that tenderness and earnestness which the brave alone show to those in their power, when his attention was attracted by a low moan in the tall gra.s.s near by. He stopped and listened. Another half-suppressed groan was heard, apparently coming from the cogonales to his left. He parted the gra.s.s. There, lying in a pool of his own blood, was a Filipino soldier, frantically endeavoring to conceal himself and smother further groans. The expression on his face was a mixture of fear and pain. Seeing that he had been discovered, he put out his hand as if to ward off a blow.

It was evident that the boy--for such he looked to be--thought he would be murdered on the spot, or at least unmercifully dealt with.

The officer spoke to him in Spanish and a.s.sured him that no harm would befall him, but that he would receive every kindness and attention.

The poor lad was too weak to say much, but allowed the American to gently bear him to a more comfortable place in the open.

After a few moments' rest, the sufferer opened his eyes and beckoned Sever to draw nearer. His whole expression had changed from hatred and fear of his rescuer to that of implicit confidence. In good Spanish he told that he had been wounded when they had charged the "Yankee"

line, but, having heard of how heartless and cruel his enemy was, he followed his retreating and panic-stricken comrades till so weakened from loss of blood he could go no further. Knowing they were being hotly pursued, he crawled into the cogonales, hoping to escape the eyes of the hated Americans.

Sever arose to seek a surgeon. The old look of terror returned to the wounded native's face, and he reached out his skeleton-like hand as if to hold him, and implored: "No, Capitan, don't go; the 'medico'

may not be so kind as you, and I might die before you came back. I cannot live much longer."

The brave and sympathetic officer then said: "Let me get some of my men who will carry you to the hospital. I cannot remain longer nor do I wish to leave you."

The wounded Tagalo looked wistfully into his face and feebly murmured: "Will you do something else for me?"

The Captain hesitated for a moment, apparently wondering what the request could be, then gave a nod of a.s.sent, and stooped to listen, bending closer and his interest increasing as the suffering fellow struggled with his narrative.

It ran: He was called Benito Gonzales, and he had been forced to take up arms by the insurgent authorities. He had a sweetheart named Juanita Tarinto, who had at the opening of the war taken refuge in a convent in Manila. He wished to send her his "anting anting" (his good luck charm), and some little money he had saved before the war began. Would the Capitan take charge of these things and deliver them?

Having received a.s.surance that his tokens would be carefully taken care of, he closed his eyes as if in great pain, a moment later a smile pa.s.sed over his face, and he knew nothing more.

Just then the regimental surgeon approached, and Sever called to him. They gently removed the clothing from the boy, and discovered that he had received a frightful wound in the side. They carefully and tenderly placed him on a litter borne by two Chinamen, and sent him to the town, some distance back.

After this futile attack of the little rebels, the days pa.s.sed with the same monotony that existed before.

Captain Sever, hearing nothing more of Benito, sent the remembrances given in his care to his wife in Manila, with instructions to deliver them to their rightful owner.