a.s.sembling half his command, while the other half watched in the trenches, Captain Freeman read the prayers and the service for the dead.

Three volleys were fired over the graves after the slain men had been laid in them. Bugler Swanson blew "taps," after which the graves were carefully filled and the tops sodded so that roving Moros would not afterwards find and desecrate these graves, sacred to the American people. All in good time the American military authorities would send and exhume these remains, transferring them to marked resting places in military cemeteries.

Before supper Captain Freeman summoned his two officers in council with him.

"I want to talk with you young gentlemen," began the captain, "for the reason that, of course, by the fortunes of war, I may be removed at any moment. If anything happens to me Mr. Prescott is to be regarded as ranking officer. Now, I want you both to understand my plan in taking up my position on this hill. Do either of you guess it?"

"I think I do, sir," replied Lieutenant Prescott, after a pause.

"Very good, Mr. Prescott. What is my reason?"

"You were sent out, sir, to meet Datto Hakkut, fight him and disperse his forces."

"Exactly," nodded the captain.

"This hill, sir, will be a hard nut for the brown men to crack. If he hopes to do it, Hakkut must get every available fighting man here on the spot."

"You're right," nodded Freeman.

"Thus, sir, you hope to force Hakkut to concentrate his whole fighting force in this immediate country. If you get all the rascals in front of you you'll have them all in one lot to whip."

"You've fathomed my plan very easily, Mr. Prescott, and you've exactly stated it. Now, though I shall take pains to be sure that the Moros remain in this neighborhood, I shall not force any very hard fighting for two or three days. Our rations will last longer than that, with care. After I've given Hakkut time enough to get his whole crew together then I shall go after them as hard as I can considering the size of this force. Also, by waiting, we shall give several of our wounded men time to get back into fighting condition."

"But what, sir," broke in Lieutenant Holmes, "if the datto takes your negative course for a confession of weakness, and attempts to carry this hill by a.s.sault?"

"Answer that, if you can, Mr. Prescott," directed Captain Freeman, turning to the other West Pointer.

"Why, I imagine, sir, that you hope your seeming inactivity _will_ provoke Hakkut into trying to carry this hill by a.s.sault. This hill, defended by regulars, will be no easy place to take from us, and Hakkut will lose so many of his men that the experience will be a good lesson for him."

"That's the idea," nodded the commanding officer. "Now, gentlemen, you understand the plan thus far. But there's another important point to remember. If we are cooped up here for very many days, then the men will have nothing left to eat but gra.s.s and gravel. So you will understand that, presently, it is going to be a matter of prime necessity for us to be able to leave here and forage. Therefore, during our comparative inactivity, we must provoke Hakkut into as many a.s.saults as possible upon this position. The more attempts he makes the more his fighting men will be demoralized when we at last fight our way through his lines."

During that night no attack was made, and the men had little to do beyond carrying out guard duty. Hakkut had undoubtedly dispatched messengers to bring all possible fighting men to the scene.

Nor in the morning, even two hours after daylight, was there any sign of the enemy. Captain Freeman at last took up his field gla.s.s again and intently studied a deep forest some twelve hundred yards below.

"Sergeant Overton!"

"Sir?"

"Have the Gatling and a belt of ammunition brought up."

"Very good, sir."

When the Gatling had been placed, Captain Freeman handed his gla.s.s to the young sergeant.

"Overton, look through the gla.s.s and see if you can discover the line of timber that I'm going to describe to you."

Hal very soon had the spot located.

"Now, Sergeant, sight the Gatling for twelve hundred yards. Do it carefully. When you are ready do what you can to stir up life along that line of timber."

While Sergeant Hal was making ready, Captain Freeman remained attentively watching the timber line through his gla.s.s.

R-r-r-r-r-r-rip! Hal served with speed and intensity.

"Just as I thought!" exclaimed the commanding officer. "You've got a line of brown men on the nervous jump down there. Keep it up a little longer, Sergeant. Sweep over a wider area."

Then, after a pause:

"Cease firing."

For an hour Captain Freeman let the enemy rest. He was watching other points through his gla.s.s. At last he ordered the Gatling into action again. The trick was played a third time that morning, and each time some of the Moros were disturbed.

"That's one of the things I wanted to know," remarked Captain Freeman at last. "Hakkut has this camp completely surrounded, but is keeping his men quiet. I wish we had two or three more Gatlings and a whole wagon load of this special ammunition. We could make it interesting for the goo-goos."

However, the datto made no move to attack, though Captain Freeman believed that the rebel, by this time, must have twelve hundred fighting men, at least, in the forests below.

"Hakkut may realize the difficulty of a.s.saulting us here, and may be waiting for huge reinforcements," Captain Freeman confided to his two lieutenants. "Moreover, I think it extremely likely that we have been caught underestimating the force of the enemy."

"There's one good thing about this style of campaigning, sir," smiled Prescott, "It isn't eating up any more men in casualties."

"No; but the datto is figuring that he's letting us eat up our rations."

There were no attacks that afternoon or evening. The next morning Captain Freeman hesitated as to whether or not he should send out a party in force to "locate and develop" the enemy. But he decided not to do so.

"To-morrow, though," declared the captain to his lieutenants, "we'll break through the line somewhere."

That third night Sergeant Hal was placed in charge of the guard, with Lieutenant Greg Holmes as his direct superior. On the side of camp where the commanding officer thought the enemy most numerous, Hal placed Corporal Duxbridge in charge.

"Don't close your eyes to-night, Corporal," warned the young sergeant.

"You can get your sleep in the daytime. This is the point where the greatest vigilance is needed. This point is really the key to the camp, and every man who lies down to sleep to-night leaves his life in your hands."

"All right," replied Corporal Duxbridge in a voice that sounded weary.

"You'll be sure to keep awake?"

"I know my business, Sergeant."

Hal Overton did not particularly like Duxbridge. He belonged to C Company, and was a man subject to occasional fits of crankiness. But Duxbridge, as well as the others, had his share of duty to perform.

Late that night one of the men of the guard, stationed not far from Duxbridge, thought that he heard a slight noise down the slope. He listened only a moment, then felt sure that he had espied a figure crawling along further down the slope.

"Halt!" called the soldier. "Halt or I'll fire. Who's there?"

"A friend," came the answer in perfectly good English. "For Heaven's sake don't fire. We've had enough of horrors with the fiends below.

Where's Corporal Duxbridge? He knows me."

"Corporal Duxbridge is on duty at this point," returned the soldier.

"How many of you are there?"