“If you allow us to pass it, I’ll have no mercy,” he exclaimed.
The “Mindinao” had now emerged from the dangerous cañon and the sound of firing above became less distinct.
General Wilson was becoming impatient. He had held himself well in hand to steady the officers and men under him during the trial through which they had passed so successfully. Now his anxiety was more than he could keep to himself. He rushed up to the cringing native, taking him roughly by the shoulders and crying out to him in English, a language unintelligible to the terrified prisoner.
But the general’s act was crowned with success. The insurgent soldier had steeled himself against the threats of Major Lukban, even reinforced as they were with the deadly revolver held to his head, but the wildly gesticulating general had put a terrible fear into his soul. Like all orientals he reverenced and feared rank, and this taciturn American general had so suddenly turned upon him that he was too frightened to do aught else but tell the truth.
“Back there is the place,” the native cried in his own language, and Major Lukban in feverish haste translated the man’s words, while Sydney swung the gunboat about, reversing his engines at full speed to keep from grounding on the rocky shores, and giving small thought to the dangers of the madly racing current.
Within ten minutes, which seemed ages to the eager Americans, the “Mindinao” was anchored in the river and the troops were landed.
Major Lukban with the guide, whose hands were securely bound to prevent his escape, led the party through the tangled underbrush over the secret trail which without the aid of one who had been there before would have been impossible. Tediously the distance was covered, the sounds of battle ever becoming more distinct. General Wilson’s age was no handicap to him as he eagerly pressed forward behind the native guides.
The enemy, by the volume of rifle fire which came down to the ears of the anxious column of soldiers, were making a desperate stand to recover the advantage lost by the suddenness of the surprise, and so absorbed were they with Captain Blynn’s men that those under the general’s command stood on the level plateau of the mountain before their presence was discovered. The sight of this unexpected force turned the tide for the Americans and the terrified insurgents threw away their arms and huddled together, expecting to be executed by their enemy without mercy.
General Wilson quietly controlled his eager soldiers, bent upon annihilating these treacherous brown men now within their power. The soldier mind knew but one style of warfare with a savage foe. No quarter had been the insurgent watchword. Kill! kill! had frequently rung in their ears as the fanatical hordes had charged down upon them on many a battle-field.
“Cease firing!” General Wilson’s commanding voice rang out above the discharges of musketry, and the bugles signaled the order across the battle-field. “Major Lukban, tell them no harm will come to them if they submit without further resistance,” he cried to the native officer at his elbow, pointing toward the panic-stricken hundreds.