From the masthead the lookout kept the soldiers on shore in sight, and Sydney regulated his speed to just keep pace with them. He thought often and with grave concern of Phil. What luck had he had? His heartbeats quickened as he vaguely wondered if he were alive! He realized the terrible cruelty of the Filipino leader, and Espinosa had reason to hate the young naval man!
The small house, where the midshipmen had unexpectedly met Colonel Salas, flashed into view as they rounded a bend in the river, and from the bridge Sydney could discern with his glasses far in the distance the enemy’s stronghold, Matiginao, “the impregnable.”
As the gunboat swept slowly by close inshore the soldiers waved their campaign hats in silent salute to their formidable navy ally.
“This, from here on, is unknown river, sir,” Sydney reported to the general, sitting calmly talking with his adjutant-general.
The general nodded and answered with a smile.
“All right, admiral, I am entirely satisfied to rely upon your judgment.”
Major Lukban had during the gunboat’s progress up the river stood by Sydney’s side, showing his appreciation of the lad’s navigation at intervals by a silent nod, while at the same time he kept one guarding eye upon his captive, whose crafty, sullen eyes roved incessantly along the wooded slopes of the narrowing river.
“This is not new to you then, major?” Sydney asked suddenly, as he directed the ship’s head toward a large dead tree which stood out a lone sentinel on a rocky point ahead.
“As a boy I was brought up on this river,” the native replied sadly. “Then many thousand of my people lived in plenty and happiness along its banks.”
“Where have they all gone?” the lad inquired interestedly, his eyes gazing about for the signs of a deserted population.