The ground was very uncertain, and the whistling of the bullets incessant. The Americans were still in full view of the enemy, and men were dropping on every side. Some distance from the mud wall were a number of native houses; and from these came a galling cross-fire, which presently laid the color-bearer low.
“The flag is down!” was the cry from several throats; but, in a moment, Colonel Liscum ran forward and picked it up. Flag in hand, he started to look for a suitable ford over the canal which ran through the marshland.
“Better get down, or they’ll hit you!” shouted one of the under officers.
“I guess not,” was the brave colonel’s answer; and at that instant a Chinese bullet struck him in the abdomen.
“Are you hit?” asked an officer, who saw him stagger back.
“I’ve got it,” was the feeble reply; and then Colonel Liscum fell, to rise no more. A score of soldiers rushed to his aid. But nothing could be done for the sufferer; and with these words, “Don’t retreat, boys. Keep on firing,” he breathed his last.
Several other officers were also shot down and many wounded, while the dead privates lay everywhere. Yet the battle waged on, until the men became almost too tired to move. All were thirsting for something to drink; but the only water at hand was that of the marshes, salty and filled with the corpses of the slain. The doctors could not attend to the wounded, for they were shot as soon as they exposed themselves.
“This is certainly the worst yet,” was Gilbert’s comment to Captain Banner. The young lieutenant was soaked to the skin, both with water and with perspiration; and his face was covered with the grime of battle. He had been in two advances, and there were bullet-holes through his coat-sleeve and his leggins. “I never saw anything like it in the Philippines.”
“Keep down,” cried the captain. “We can’t afford to lose any more officers. Bruff is dead, over yonder.” And he pointed to a stretch of grass where the second lieutenant lay, with wide-open eyes, staring up at the blazing sky. Poor Bruff had been killed in the first advance.
Slowly the afternoon wore away. The air was heavy with smoke, yet the battalion to which Gilbert was attached did not dare to shift its position for fear of being cut to pieces. In the mean time the Japanese had made a great breach in the south wall of the native city, and were pouring in, unbeknown to any of the other commands.