“Sure, an’ that’s all right, captain,” answered the soldier, quickly. “Is your arm hurted much?”
“I guess not. Come, we’ve got them on the run again.” And away the pair went, into the cane-brake, through which the rebels were crashing like so many wild cattle.
The day had been full of excitement, but much more was to follow. The cane-brakes were heavy, and soon Ben and Casey found themselves separated from the main body of the battalion and out of sight 128 of their own company. Then several Filipinos confronted them and called upon them to surrender.
“We ain’t surrenderin’ just yit, we ain’t!” howled the Irish soldier, and let drive at the nearest rebel, while Ben discharged his pistol. Two of the enemy were wounded, and in an instant the others took to their heels, evidently convinced that such fighters were “too many” for them.
The encounter, however, had taken time, and now Ben called upon his companion to stop running. “We want to know where we are running to first,” he said. “Listen.”
They listened and made out a distant firing to both the right and the left. “I’m afther thinkin’ our b’ys is to the right,” said Dan Casey.
“I believe you are right, Casey; although both of us may be mistaken,” rejoined the young captain of Company D. “We will try that direction, anyway.”
They continued on their way through the cane-brake until they reached a small stream. Here the ground was soft and full of treacherous bog-holes, and both looked at each other in dismay.
“Sure, an’ this is more than we bargained fer, eh, 129 captain?” remarked Casey, as he pulled himself out of a hole into which he had gone almost to his knees. “If we don’t look out we’ll git stuck so tight there’ll be no budgin’ av us.”
“The ground to the right seems to be firmer,” replied Ben. “Come, we will move in that direction.”