1761583Under MacArthur in Luzon — Chapter 16Edward Stratemeyer

CHAPTER XVI


BATTLING ALONG THE ZAPOTE RIVER


"Hike her up, boys; don't give them a chance to reload!"

"Make every shot tell, fellows; don't waste your ammunition on the air!"

"To the left, boys. Fire low. There they go! Now give it to 'em! Hike her up!'

So the cries arose as the battalion ranged across the rice-field. With our army in the Philippines the word "hike" is a great favorite and seems to carry special inspiration with it. Soon they were in the very centre of the field. The Tagals were at the edge of the jungle beyond and pouring in a hot and steady fire.

"Down! Careful aim, boys. Now then, up again! This way, double quick!" and another rush was made, the advancing line utilizing every bush, rise, or hollow within reach. It was dangerous work, and it needed brave men to carry it on, but no one faltered. Crack! crack! crack! went the rifles, with now and then a dull boom from the artillery on the road. Staff officers were rushing hither and thither, and the air was filled with smoke. The hospital corps was now coming up, and those that were wounded or were overcome by the heat were quickly carried to the rear.

"Well, Larry, how do you feel now?" asked Ben, anxiously, as he ran up to his brother, as the latter was reloading.

"All right, but I'm as dry as a fish."

"Here's my canteen; I'm just afther filling it," put in Dan Casey, and thrust the article into Larry's hands. The youth was just taking a good drink, when crack! a bullet hit the canteen, went straight through it, and landed in the dirt beyond.

"Creation!" gasped Larry, and turned deadly pale for the moment. "Wasn't that a close shave, though!"

"I've got him!" burst out Dan Casey, after discharging his rifle. "That Dago will niver shpile another canteen fer me." He had caught sight of a Tagal in a distant tree, and his aim was true, for the rebel threw up his arms, let his Mauser fall, and then pitched headlong into the tall grass.

Another advance was now ordered, and soon Ben found himself in the very thickest of the fight, with Larry close beside him, and Major Morris and Gilbert not far away, They were hugging the side of the hill, and the rebels, having left the first line of intrenchments, were scampering through the underbrush. Some were surrounded, and of these many were shot down or made prisoners.

The corner of a series of rocks was turned, when of a sudden a detachment of the Tagals hurled themselves upon Company B. Gilbert was in the thickest of this onslaught, and in his eagerness to kill an American officer one of the rebels grabbed him by the throat, at the same time raising a short sword as if to stab the lieutenant.

Ben, from a distance, saw the movement, and his heart leaped into his throat. There was no time left to think,—only to act,—and like a flash his pistol came up. There was a crack, and Ben saw the Tagal fall back badly wounded. Then the smoke of battle hid both Gilbert and the rebel from view.

"Good for you, Ben!" The cry came from Larry. The youth was in a dripping perspiration and covered with dirt and gun-soot. "Oh, but this is a great fight, isn't it?"

"It is, Larry; but take care, or you'll keel over," answered the older brother, and shortly after this Larry had to withdraw, too weak to stand longer upon his feet in that blazing sun.

Gradually the rebels were forced back, until they broke and ran, some in the direction of the Laguna de Bay, and others straight into the jungle to the southward. The Americans continued their march onward, and at nightfall went into temporary camp in a field just outside of Las Piñas, which is located on Manila Bay, midway between the capital and where the Peninsula of Cavité joins the mainland.

"That's pretty good work for one day," said Gilbert, when it was over. "Phew I how hot it was." He caught Ben by the hand. "I owe you a good deal, old fellow."

"It seems to me that you and Larry stood it wonderfully well," replied the young captain. "Why, ten of my men were knocked out by the heat."

"Six of our company are down—two quite badly knocked out, too. I wonder what the rebels will do next?"

"They'll scoot—as they always do," put in Major Morris, who stood near. "Even such a skilful officer as General Lawton can't bag them, it seems."

"I heard through one of the wounded rebels that the notorious General Adoz was in to-day's fight," went on Gilbert. "It's a pity we didn't capture him."

"It's a pity we can't capture General Aguinaldo," said the major. "It seems to me this rebellion would come to a short end if he was taken."

While the fight was going on through this jungle and on the hillside, the gunboat Helena and the monitor Monadnock had been shelling Las Piñas and Paranaque, and the country between, continuously, trying to drive the rebels inland, into the reach of the army. Out on the water this was hot work and drove many a sailor to the hospital bay. Captain Nichols of the Monadnock was overcome and died of the heat late in the afternoon.

The Sunday to follow was one of well-earned rest, and our friends did little, but lay around in the shade, discussing the situation. It was learned that many of the Filipinos had slipped past the outposts during the darkness and were hurrying southward in the direction of the Zapote River. From the private secretary of General Pio del Pilar, who had deserted his employer, it was learned, through General Otis, that the Filipino army of southern Luzon expected to make its stand on the banks of the river named.

"Well, I hope they do make a stand," said Ben, when he heard the news. "I would rather be fighting than running after them all day, especially in this heat."

On Monday, while the army was obtaining supplies from Manila, General Lawton went aboard the Helena and inspected the "lay of the land" below Las Piñas. His observations led him to believe that the rebels were indeed preparing for a stand, and the grim war veteran smiled quietly to himself as he returned to his headquarters.

Our soldiers had not advanced far on Tuesday when a rebel battery just south of Las Piñas opened up in grand style, which was replied to by our First Artillery and our warships in the bay. General Lawton took out several companies to inspect the roads leading from the shore to the American position and was almost caught in an ambush by rebels who could neither advance nor retreat. This brought on a terrific hand-to-hand encounter, and at first the Americans were scattered. But the gallant Lawton, who knew not the meaning of defeat, rallied his men and stormed the rebel position repeatedly. In the meantime reënforcements were ordered up,—Ben's battalion among the rest,—and the fight grew hotter each instant. Ben's company had to wade through water and mud up to their ankles, in marsh-brush which was taller than their heads, and under a galling fire coming from a number of nipa huts lining the road beyond. These nipa huts had been occupied by Tagals who pretended to be friendly to the Americans, but now their white rags were gone and they, showed their true character.

"On, men, we are needed at the front—General Lawton himself needs us!" cried Major Morris; and the battalion made a spurt, cheering Lawton and the flag as they advanced. Shot and shell were flying in every direction, and soon the swamp brush was afire in a dozen places, the heavy smoke adding itself to that from the volunteers' firearms.

"We are up against it this trip!" cried Gilbert, as he ran beside Ben for a few paces. "I reckon the rebels are making the fight of their lives."

"It's no worse than at Malolos," answered the young captain. "I know—"

"Down!" came the cry from the front, and the officers bent low. There was a roar and a rattle, and shot and shell went shrieking over their heads. Then the din became so terrific that further conversation was impossible.

General Lawton's detachment was gained, and now the fight was to get to Overshine's brigade, also fighting desperately against an enemy numbering well up into the thousands. Every trail and every jungle held its Filipinos, all well armed and fighting for once with a courage which was phenomenal.

"Kill the pigs!" was the native cry. "Kill them! Spare not those who would take our beloved homes from us!" And then would follow a shrill yelling which was deafening, to be swallowed up in another rattle and roar of rifles and cannon. The very ground was torn up as by ploughs run mad, and the dead and dying lay everywhere, the painfully wounded shrieking for help, for water, for death to relieve them of their sufferings. Such is the ghastly terror of real war.

Sick at heart, almost stunned by the harrowing sights which constantly met their gaze, Ben and Larry kept on, close together, each mentally praying that the other might be spared to him. Ammunition was running low, and they fired now only when the occasion appeared to demand it. Ben's shirt was torn half from his back, yet he never noticed it.

"Hurrah! they are running at last!" It was a cry from the left, and it was true. The rebel line had broken; now it seemed to melt first at one spot and then at another. A ringing cheer arose from the Americans. "The battle is ours! Hike her up! Don't let them get away this time! Hurrah for Old Glory!" And away went the soldiers in a mass, their anxiety of the minute before changed to fierce joy.

The Filipinos were fleeing to the banks of the Zapote River, and this stream gained, they burned the middle planking of the bridge, that the Americans might not follow them across. On the opposite shore they had strong intrenchments, with a well-planted battery. Along the river were numerous huts and houses, many of them manned by Tagalog sharpshooters. As the Americans came up, the sharpshooters brought down several of them. But then the sharpshooters fled, fearful of being surrounded.

Coming to the river, General Lawton saw that he could not get across over the bridge, and withdrew his command to the shelter of some trees and some trenches which the enemy had dug long before. The artillery was speedily placed in position, and a constant and bitter fire was directed across the stream, which the insurgents returned as well as they were able. It was now the middle of the afternoon, and nobody had had anything to eat since early morning. But there was no let-up, all feeling that this was one of the contests which must count heavily for one side or the other.

"We'll never dislodge them," said Major Morris, after a survey through a field glass; but scarcely had he spoken when some of the rebels who had had several guns pointed at them with good effect, leaped up from their trenches and ran across an open field back of the river. This small beginning produced something of a panic, and soon others followed, the Filipino leaders trying vainly to stop the retreat.

"Fourteenth Infantry to the front!" was now the cry on the American side, and in a trice the brave soldiers were swimming the river. Then the Ninth and the Twelfth made a detour and crossed, and another pitched battle occurred close to the bridge, which was still smouldering. But this last stand of the Filipinos was of short duration, and overwhelmed once more with defeat, they withdrew, with a loss of fifteen hundred killed, wounded, and captured. The American loss was about fifty killed and wounded, and ten missing.