Mrs. Sever had no difficulty in finding the dusky la.s.s, and, after gently breaking the painful news to the lovely girl with sorrowful-looking eyes and beautiful jet black tresses, offered to lend her any a.s.sistance she might need.

Grateful for the kindness, and anxious to earn her own living, she accepted, and was soon domiciled with the "Senora Americana,"

as she was pleased to call Mrs. Sever.

One morning, after several fatiguing days on reconnaissance duty waist-deep in mud and water, Company E, of the --th Regiment of Infantry, like a lot of rollicking school-boys on a holiday, were indulging in numerous sports outside their huts in the street. The spirit of the soldiers was contagious--even the native venders seemed to feel the reaction. Their voices, usually so harsh and unpleasant, had a more cheerful ring as they cried their wares; and the customary stoical expression of their black faces had actually given place to a bearable smile, by this atmosphere of good humor and fine spirits.

The always-busy commander of Company E, Captain Sever, was engaged with delayed papers and reports, and was writing with an energy seldom seen in that enervating country, when he was interrupted by a bold native at his elbow crying: "Huevos, leche, mangoes, lucatan. Quiere, Capitan?" ("Eggs, milk, mangoes, bananas. Do you wish, Captain?")

The Captain turned abruptly, and was about to reply with usual American brusqueness, but was halted by the broad smile and unusual intelligent look of the invader of his privacy. As he studied the face trying to recollect where he had seen it before, the expression changed for one of disappointment. Then did he recognize in the strong and athletic figure before him the shrunken and emaciated one he had seen borne off the field of carnage, but four short weeks before.

"h.e.l.lo, Benito! where did you come from?" he began, and offered a friendly hand to the native; continuing, "You don't look much like the chap I found in the cogonales, trying to hide from me a short time back, beyond the north line. I thought you'd moved from this land of strife, lizards, and mosquitos, and staked out a claim in the celestial regions. Did not know you at first. You must have seen some pretty tough times before I found you if this is how you look after undergoing a month of American cruelty."

He ran on in this train, not giving the dusky soldier-merchant a chance to answer, but all the time studying the face and taking in every line of the splendid specimen of a Tagalo before him.

Benito was taller than the average of his tribe. His muscular limbs showed a strength and athletic training that would be the envy of any Yale man or West Pointer. His back was as straight as the proverbial ramrod and as supple as the leaf of the cocoanut palm. His eyes were brown, and fairly danced with good nature and intelligence. They were frank, too, an unusual thing with a native. All in all, he was a perfect model of the physical man in bronze.

He placed his tray, laden with the luxuries he had cried, on a box near by, and seated himself in such a natural and easy manner, making himself so perfectly at home, that Sever's feeling of surprise at the action, soon changed into one of amus.e.m.e.nt over the unusual familiarity of a Tagalo toward a hated "Yankee." But he was to find out that this compatriot of Aguinaldo was unusual in many ways.

After talking over his experiences at the First Reserve Hospital at Manila, Sever asked his guest what he intended doing.

Benito replied that his future was undecided. While in Manila he had seen Juanita, and they had decided that he should seek the Capitan and ask his advice. That was how he happened to be peddling along the line.

"You don't intend to return to the army again?" asked Sever.

On receiving an emphatic negative answer, the Captain continued: "How did you happen to cast your fortunes with the insurgents in the first place, and why were you so terror-stricken when first discovered after you had been wounded?"

Benito's answer to this double query was lengthy, but in effect he said: His father had been a captain in the Corps d'Elite, Aguinaldo's body-guard, during the Filipino insurrection against Spanish rule. Hoodwinked and misguided by the juntas as to the designs of the Americans, he continued in the service after the Spaniards had been driven out. During the outbreak against the Americans on February 5, 1899, he was killed. Shortly afterward he received word that he must take his father's place. He knew what it meant to refuse to enter the insurrectionist service after having once been notified. Fearing a.s.sa.s.sination should he refuse, he at once joined his father's regiment and was given his father's company.

His regiment gradually fell back into the interior as the Americans advanced. Nothing but tales of brigandage, rapacity, and cruelty were heard of the actions of the enemy.

Driven beyond San Fernando de Pampanga, Aguinaldo established his headquarters at Tarlac, and determined to make a final stand; here taking oath that he would take the city of San Fernando inside of a week or lose every man in his command in the attempt.

Then followed the attack in which Benito was wounded. From what he had heard, he expected the Captain's sword to run him through; or worse, be taken alive and afterward subjected to the cruelty of the "Yankee"

soldiery, or sold as a slave and shipped to the States.

Now he had seen with his own eyes the benign att.i.tude of his former enemy. His connection with the rebellion had ended.

Sever offered to employ him as his valet.

The beaming fellow arose, bowing obsequiously, and replied: "As you wish, Capitan."

From that moment his bearing and actions changed from those of a friend to those of a servant.

Benito proved a model valet. His master's wants were antic.i.p.ated; his shoes looked more like mirrors than prosaic foot-gear, and his clothes were always neatly pressed and immaculately clean. The culinary was not neglected. It was soon noised about the regiment that Sever was the best groomed and fed officer in the Division.

Then came the time when the wily little rebels cut the railroad and telegraph communications, and there was no intercourse with Manila. The morning after this occurrence there was noticeable the absence of Filipino venders of bananas, eggs, and other edibles on the streets of San Fernando. This always meant an early attack. To Sever the most ominous thing was the disappearance that night of his trusted valet, Benito. But he refused to believe that he had turned traitor; he vowed the native would duly appear in time.

Early that evening orders came from regimental headquarters to strengthen the outposts, especially those of the north--the point always the object of attack of the insurgents.

The south line was reenforced by Captain Sever's company alone. He arrived there about dark, and soon made a careful disposition of his men, personally superintending the placing of each man.

Then came that extreme darkness known only to sentries on posts in tropical countries.

While not expecting an attack from the south, Sever's men were nevertheless vigilant. Their gallant commander refused to lie down, but groped about in the darkness amid interminable underbrush, through banana grove and bamboo thicket, over rice-paddies and briery hedges, instructing and rea.s.suring his men.

Just as he was finishing his two o'clock rounds, and was feeling his way back to the company rendezvous, he was startled by the sounds of the footfalls of a galloping horse in the direction of the city, which were rapidly drawing nearer. He at once knew its import. There must be something serious. Orderlies were not sent out at that hour of the morning unless the cause was pressing.

He retraced his steps toward the main road leading to the city and down which the now rapidly approaching horseman was coming.

Of a sudden the whole sky to the front was lighted as if traversed by the fiery darts of an electric storm. Then came the sounds of volleys fired at close range, and the crashing of the bullets as they struck near.

He ran toward his men, shouting words of command. A few returned the fire as best they could, but it was too late for that kind of fighting. The insurgents had crawled to within a few feet of the outposts, by a given signal began a murderous fire, then, whipping out the deadly bolo, pounced upon the unsuspecting sentries. It was a death-struggle; a hand-to-hand combat; a few against many.

This mere handful of Americans bravely wielded the bayonet and clubbed with the rifle, but the odds were too great.

Sever arrived on the scene of action with flashing eyes and set jaws, determined to die with his men. In an instant he was surrounded by a half-dozen grinning natives, brandishing their shining knives in his face. He fought like a madman, effectively using his revolver, but it was an uneven fight, and he fell by a heavy blow which barely missed his head, landing on his right shoulder and sinking deep into his body. He sunk heavily to the ground. Another boloman raised his weapon to administer the final cut which would end his life, but his raised hand seemed fixed in that position. There was another struggle--this time native against native.

Benito appeared just in the nick of time to save his friend's life.

Hundreds of feet were now heard coming from the rear.

Plunging through the darkness, falling over vines and rice-d.y.k.es, into ditches, came the yelling "Yankees." The tide of battle turned.

The insurgents who had broken this weak line and were pouring in toward the city heard that awful and unexpected "Yankee yell." They halted. A moment later there was a clash that lasted but a second. Sweeping everything before them, the reenforcements changed the fortunes of the fight.

The next day Benito visited his severely wounded master at the hospital. It was then that the Captain learned that Benito had overheard some Filipino venders inside the city drop a hint of the proposed attack. That night he set out to learn the details if possible. He arrived at the rebel lines safely, unrecognized and not suspicioned. He soon learned the plan of attack by hiding near a group of officers who were discussing it. He started back to inform his master of what he had learned, but was apprehended when trying to recross the Filipino lines. Charged with being a deserter, he was closely watched that night and the next day. The following night he evaded his guard during the confusion incident to the preparations for the battle, and made for the Americans as fast as his feet could take him, arriving in town at about one o'clock in the morning. Searching for the Captain, he could not find him. He then reported what he knew of the plans of the fight to Lieutenant Parsons, and learned from that officer the whereabouts of Sever and his company, and ran with all his might to warn him, for it was rapidly nearing the hour for the murderous onslaught. Parsons, after listening to Benito's story of what he had learned while in the enemy's camp, immediately started a mounted orderly to the Colonel. That worthy hastily dispatched a warning messenger and reenforcements to Sever. The rest has been told.

A month later Sever was carried up the gang-plank of an army transport, on his way to the United States to recover from his wound. Benito was by his side. When the deck was reached, he took his master by the hand. Great tears were gathering in his eyes and tracing down his fine, dusky face as he said: "Adios, Capitan."

The American officer struggled to make a reply, but there was something in his throat which prevented him.

The two remained clasping hands for a minute, then Benito turned and slowly descended to the "lighter."

Benito and his wife had urgent invitations to accompany Captain and Mrs. Sever to "G.o.d's country," but they chose to remain in their native land.

THE ARMY MULE.

That republics are ungrateful, Is adage old as sin; That only he who has a pull Can rake the chestnuts in; And he, the faithful, honest heart, Who meekly bears his humble part, Is often dubbed a fool.

Oh, Dewey gets a mighty praise, And everywhere they shout And yell for Schley until they raise Their very livers out; Of rank and file much praise is heard, But then you never hear a word About the Army Mule.

He calmly bears his heavy pack, And twists his tail in glee; And chews at night a "gunny" sack, When corn has "gang a-glee"; But for his patient, loving ways No annals speak a word of praise Of that poor Army Mule.

He n.o.bly marched where bullets fell, With calm and even tread; And when he heard the bursting sh.e.l.l, He only shook his head; And at his post he n.o.bly stood To help the boys what e'er he could, That faithful Army Mule.