1751385Under MacArthur in Luzon — Chapter 12Edward Stratemeyer

CHAPTER XII


THE BATTLE ON THE BEACH


As soon as they had recovered somewhat from the exertions of their flight, the two young sailors listened with strained ears for some sound from the enemy who had been pursuing them.

"I don't hear a thing," whispered Si, presently. "Do you?"

"I hear something—a good way off," replied Walter. "I think it is coming closer."

Again they strained their ears. Walter had not been mistaken, for now they heard the breaking of brushwood quite plainly. Slowly but surely the sounds were coming closer. The Negritos had provided themselves with torches and were following up the trail with all the skill of dogs in the chase.

"We can't escape them," muttered Si. "If only we had our pistols, or even our cutlasses!"

"Let us move on again," said Walter. "We may be able to throw them off sooner or later."

They arose, and fairly shaking with exhaustion, managed to crawl on for a hundred feet or less. Then they came upon a hollow partly filled with water. At one end of the pool was another mountain stream.

"Into the water," said Walter, quickly. "Remember, that leaves no trail." And in they plunged, with as little noise as possible, and moved from the pool to the stream and then continued their journey to where there was a small wall of rocks. Up the wall they clambered, and threw themselves flat in some high grass, worming their way out of sight like a couple of snakes. Then they grew quiet again, hardly daring to breathe.

With torches waving in the air, the natives reached the pool and came to a halt on its banks. As Walter had said, water leaves no trail, and loud were the grunts of disgust which the Negritos uttered as they ranged around the spot, inspecting every foot of the bank with care. At last, feeling certain that the Americanos had not gone deeper into the forest, they moved down the stream.

Walter and Si heard them coming, and the hearts of the young tars thumped violently beneath their jackets. To run farther was out of the question. All they could do was to remain quiet, trusting to Providence that they would not be discovered.

Soon the Negritos were directly opposite to where the pair were in hiding. Walter was so agitated he was afraid they would hear the pumping of his heart. Each boy clutched the hand of the other in a death-like grip. The natives came to a halt within a rod of them.

Not a word of what was said could either Walter or Si understand, nor did they see the Negritos, although the glare of the torches was plainly visible over their heads, throwing fantastic shadows over the foliage of the jungle behind them. The natives were holding a consultation, and one leaned against the very rocks the youths had mounted so short a time before. Walter and Si were afraid the fellow would climb up for a view of the locality, and prepared to make a last run, if their legs would carry them, but the necessity for this did not arise. The natives moved on, and the boys were left to themselves.

"Gone," whispered Walter, as the footsteps and the glare of the torches died away in the distance. "Thank God!"

"If only they don't come back," came from the Yankee lad. "We ain't out of the woods yet, not by a jugful."

"Let us move back, among the trees, Si. Perhaps we can climb into one that has low branches."

This advice was followed, and once in the trees the boys again listened with "all ears," as the saying is. But the natives did not come back, and they were not disturbed.

Each was exhausted, mentally and physically, yet sleep was out of the question; and as the night wore along they conversed in whispers, speculating upon what would be best to do with the coming of daylight, and if the Central was still at anchor in the bay, awaiting their return.

"I am afraid of one of two things," said Walter. "Either the transport has left or else those natives carried us a long way inland before they placed us in that cave."

"How do you make that out?" asked Si.

"Because of the noise they have made and the lights. If we were close to the shore, and the Central was still in the harbor, they would be more careful, being afraid some party would be out on the hunt for us."

"By ginger, Walter, that looks about right! But I don't think the transport would leave so quick. They must have carried us a long way after batting us over the head with their clubs. And if that's so, then we are still a good distance from the coast," added Si, ruefully.

They decided that, with the coming of daylight, they would climb a tall tree and do their best to "get the lay o' the land," as Si expressed it. If the bay and the ship were anywhere in sight, they would make a beeline thence, keeping their eyes wide open for any natives who might be watching for them.

"And if the ship isn't in sight—" said Walter. He did not finish, and Si's only answer was a sad shake of the head. If the transport was gone, there was no telling what they would do.

So tired they could scarcely keep their eyes open, and yet so nervous that even a nap was out of the question, the chums waited for the coming of daylight. The jungle had been very quiet, but toward morning the birds began to tune up, and soon numerous insects joined in, followed by the shrill cry of parrots.

With the first sign of daylight they aroused themselves and hunted up a tall tree—a species of giant palm. Both had learned the sailor's trick of climbing by means of a rope slung around the tree and one's waist, and in this instance each used some heavy vines and was soon among the lofty branches.

"What do you see?" asked Walter, who was below his companion.

"Can't see much of anything, yet," answered the Yankee lad. "There seems to be a mist around us. We'll have to wait till the sun comes up." And they did wait, with all the patience they could muster. Presently the round, red sun came out of the bed of the Pacific, like a globe of fire, sending long shafts of wavering light over the billows, and tipping the tops of the trees, and then the bushes lower down. They were in sight of the sea, and that was one comfort.

"The ship—where is our ship?" asked Walter, impatiently. Not a sail of any kind was visible. Their hearts dropped in their bosoms like lumps of lead.

"Deserted—" began Si, and then gave another look to seaward. "Walter, we've made a mistake. That bay yonder is not the one at which we landed. We must be to the eastward of the cape."

"Then where is the other bay? further westward?"

"Yes. We'll have to try another tree, or work our way to the other side of this hill. Come."

And they lost no time in descending to the ground. Both were tremendously hungry, but there was nothing at hand with which to satisfy the cravings of their stomachs, and neither was inclined to waste time in hunting something up. "The ship—let us get back to that, and we'll have all we want to eat," said Walter, and Si agreed with him.

To work their way around the hillside was not easy, for here the long and entangling vines were again in evidence, while at some points the undergrowth was so thick they could not see a dozen feet in front of them.

"This must be like the jungles Ben mentioned in his letter," said Walter. "He told me they were ten times worse than those in Cuba, and he is right. An army couldn't get through a mile of this in a week."

"How far do you reckon we are from the battlefields he mentioned?"

"Oh, a good many miles, Si—probably over two hundred."

"Those rascals didn't look like much of fighters—I mean soldiers."

"No, they looked more like savage negroes."

"But we don't want to fall into their hands. They mean business,—or they wouldn't have attacked us as they did and made us prisoners."

So the conversation ran on, until, an hour later, Si proposed they mount another tree. This was not difficult, for all of the trees in that vicinity were well provided with low-drooping branches. Up they went to the top, and Walter, who was now ahead, gave a subdued shout of joy.

"The ship!"

"Sure?" queried Si, and pushed up beside him. "You are right, and the sooner we get to her, the better."

They had reached a point where they could see far to the northwest of their former position. Here was the beautiful bay where they had come ashore, and there lay the Central at anchor, as peacefully as ever. The sight of the transport was to them like a sight of home.

"How far off do you think she is?" began Walter, when a number of shots rang out, cutting short his question. The shots came from the woods fronting the bay, and soon they saw the smoke rising among the trees. Then out on the beach ran a number of soldiers, and waved their arms wildly toward the ship.

"Our men!" gasped Si. "And them infernal savages air a-followin' o' 'em!" He was greatly excited, and this caused him to drop back to his old-time dialect.

"You are right!" burst from Walter's lips. "Six, eight, nine of them! They are having a hot time of it. Do you suppose they have been ashore looking for us?"

"More'n likely. See, they are firing again,—and there come the savages, two or three dozen strong. What can it mean?"

Neither knew, and breathlessly they watched the contest from afar. The soldiers emptied their weapons as rapidly as ever, while the Negritos sent volley after volley into their ranks, killing one man and wounding two others.

A small boat was now seen to put off from the transport, filled with soldiers, who began to shoot as they advanced. A gun on the Central was also brought to bear on the natives, and the low boom of the weapon echoed and reëchoed across the hills behind the two boys who watched the battle so eagerly. The cannon shot brought down several Negritos, and for the minute the rest were paralyzed with fear and ran for the shelter of the trees.

"Good!" shouted Si, enthusiastically. "Give it to the beggars! Wipe 'em out!" And his face beamed with pleasure.

But the natives were not yet beaten, and as the boat from the transport touched the beach, a larger band than before dashed out on the sands, and a fierce hand-to-hand encounter ensued, in which several on both sides went down. But finally the Negritos were beaten back, up the beach, and then another shot from the ship, followed by a shell, put them to flight. By this time the Americans had had enough of the encounter, and all made a rush for the boat, carrying the wounded with them. Some could not get aboard, but had to hold on to the gunwale, and thus the rowboat put off for the ship.

No sooner had the boat left the shore than the natives came out a third time, and arrow after arrow was sent after the craft, but with uncertain results. Soon, however, the rowboat was out of range, and then more shots from the ship caused a wild scamper of the Negritos to shelter.