meantime the other companies under Major Morris were coming up on the
opposite side of the rock. Ben was on the point of shouting some
additional words of encouragement to his men, when he found himself
face to face with a mighty Igorrote warrior, who with his long lance
seemed determined to pierce the young captain through and through.

CHAPTER XXI

CAMPING OVER A POWDER MAGAZINE

Bang!

It was the report of Ben's pistol, and the weapon was aimed directly
for the Igorrote's head, for the young captain had learned the value
of aiming and firing quickly.

But the Filipino "had been there before," and as the trigger went down
he dropped to the ground with the rapidity of lightning, and the
bullet intended for him struck a man some distance in the rear. Then
up leaped the Igorrote once more and bounded onward, the lance point
aimed directly for Ben's throat!

The young captain's pistol was now empty, the other shots having been
discharged during the climb up the hill. His sword was out, but the
lance was three times the length of the blade, so he was still at a
disadvantage. Yet he aimed a blow at the barbed point and thus turned
it aside.

"Ha!" hissed the Filipino, and drew back. Then he struck again at
Ben, and instantly both slipped on the moist grass and fell directly
into each other's clutches. The Igorrote was a powerful warrior, and
grasped Ben's throat with the tightness of a steel band.

Ben tried to cry out, but not a sound could he make. His eyes bulged
from their sockets, and he felt his breath leaving him. A second
Igorrote leaped forward to hit him on the head with a war club, such
as some of the Igorrote still insisted upon carrying. Of the use of
rifles this tribe of the Filipinos knew little or nothing.

"Back, ye nager!" came in Dan Casey's voice, and there followed a
sickening thud, and down went the enemy with the club, his head split
open by a blow from the Irish volunteer's gun-stock. Casey then aimed
a second blow at the rebel who had hold of Ben, but not wishing to
receive such a dose as had been meted out to his companion, the other
Igorrote sprang up, butted Casey in the stomach with his head, thus
landing the Irishman on his back, and then ran for his life toward the
nearest shelter of brush.

"Oh, be gracious! To look at that now!" spluttered the Irishman as he
arose. "But I got wan av thim, anyhow, captain," he added, with a
jerk of his thumb toward the Igorrote, who lay