of Basilan from the many
others in the Sulu group. The natives seemed far from hostile, however,
and Lieutenant Lewis remarked upon their docility to Sergeant Greer.

"Don't let 'em fool you, sir; they're not to be trusted," he replied.

"Oh, Sergeant, I think we are all too scared of the dirty beggars. If
we ever stop dodging them, they will stop lying in wait for us."

The old man's face did not reveal his misgivings, but he wondered
where this young upstart would lead the men and inwardly cursed the
war department for sending troops into the jungle under the command
of a baby. He was soon to change his opinion of this particular "baby."

Camp was pitched near the water's edge in a tall cocoanut grove that
supplied them with food and water as well as shade. The chores over,
liberty was granted to explore the island. The sergeant shook his head;
he seemed to feel the inexperience of the new officer and overstepped
the bounds of discipline when he warned him again of the treachery
of the natives, advising him to keep the men in camp.

"That will do, Sergeant," replied the lieutenant. The old man stiffened
into a salute, wheeled, and disappeared down the company street.

At sunset retreat was sounded, and after all the men had been
accounted for, they gathered around the fires. Picturesque natives
mingled with the jolly soldiers, bartering and arguing over trifling
purchases. Through the warm fragrance, unfamiliar sounds kept
reminding Lewis that he was far from home. The twilight deepened
into night, and pipe in hand, he reviewed the strange scene. Folks at
home were celebrating Christmas Eve. Somewhere the snow was falling,
bells jingling, and a mother's prayers were being whispered for the
far-away boy in the Sulu jungle. Little Piang was squatting at his
feet, silently watching the scene, happy because he was near his
master. Suddenly the boy jumped up, dashed into the crowd, and yelled:

"Juramentado!"

A tall Moro, without any warning, had begun to shriek and whirl,
cutting to and fro with his terrible campilan, and before any one could
prevent, he had felled two troopers. With a howl, Lewis plunged into
their midst, pistol leveled, but before he could pull the trigger,
the Moro buried the sword in his own vitals and pitched forward, dead.

"See, another!" cried Piang.

Just in time a bullet from the lieutenant's revolver silenced another
deadly fanatic. They had slipped into the gathering, well concealed