ough the canebreak, or by company and platoon across the
westward swamps, told on the nerve and discipline of the little brown men
in the bamboo. Their shots flew swift, but wild and higher. Then a daring
lad, in the rough field uniform of a subaltern of infantry, sprang like a
cat into the fire-flashing lane, and, revolver in hand and a squad of
devoted fellows at his heels, dashed straight at the wooden walls ahead.
In frantic haste the occupants blazed shot after shot upon him and his
heroic followers. One after another three went down; but, in another
instant, the lieutenant leading, they reached the block house and darted
through the open doorway, the last of its garrison fleeing in panic
before such unheard-of daring and determination. And then came the rush
of comrades cheering down the lane, tumbling over the earthworks and the
luckless gang that, still crouching there, held to their position, and
all the southward leading road was ours.

But, over along the next lane, a parallel track through the timber, there
had been as stern a check; and the fury of the fire from the trenches in
the thickets forced brave men to cover and dropped others in their
tracks. "By God, we must have it!" almost screamed a tall captain,
pointing with his sword to the flashing block house half hidden in the
trees. "Hear those fellows on the other road? Don't let them beat us.
Come on, lads!" and out he darted into the open, an instant target for a
score of Mausers. Out, too, leaped half a dozen men, one a tall, lithe,
superbly built young athlete, with a face aflame with resolution and rage
of battle. Out leaped Billy Gray from the corner of the cross-road, and,
cheering madly, called on others to follow. Down went the captain, shot
through the knee. Down went the nearmost man, the tall youth who was
first to follow. Down went a brawny sergeant, who had stopped to raise
his fallen captain; but on swept a score of others while the bamboos
blazed with the fierce volleying of the Krags. Forward in scores now,
yelling like Apaches, rushed the regulars; and somehow, he never just
knew how it happened, Gray found himself a moment later straddling an old
field gun in a whirl of dust and dirt and smoke and cheers, was conscious
of something wet and warm streaming down his side, and of being tenderly
lifted from his perch by brawny, blue-sleeved arms, given a sip from a
canteen, and then, half-led, half-supported back to where the surgeon was
al