Outside more shots sounded. Lieutenant Prescott ran to the door.
Sergeant Hal, however, had detailed twenty of his men to answer the fire, whenever they saw anything to shoot at, while the others had been ordered to get to work with their intrenching tools.
This tool, in appearance, is about half way between a bayonet and a trowel. With it a soldier can lie on the ground, digging and throwing up dirt before him, while he opens a shallow trench in which to lie and conceal himself from the enemy's fire.
"Don't waste any ammunition, Sergeant. Have your men shoot to hit," directed the officer. "I'm going back into the house, but send for me if you see any suspicious move on the part of the Moros."
"Yes, sir," and Sergeant Overton turned his face towards the enemy.
Though he made his men remain prostrate on the ground, Hal Overton stood up. He was using the lieutenant's field glass.
The walls of the planter's house were riddled with bullets, for this house had not been constructed as a fort. Along the outer walls, however, bags of earth had been piled in such a way as to afford comparative safety to the defenders.
"Those of us who weren't fighting," explained Mr. Seaforth, "have been engaged for hours in digging dirt in the cellar and bringing it up in the sacks. But it was a fearful morning until you arrived. Now, our only danger is from a stray bullet. The Moros won't come any closer—they won't dare to charge the house with such a force of troops here to defend the place."
