A QUESTION OF TIME
"The native pilot who is to take the gunboat Utica around from Ilo Iloto Capiz is a traitor. I have just discovered indisputable proofs ofthat fact. He has agreed to run the gunboat aground on a ledge nearone of the Gigantes Islands, on which a force of insurgents is tobe hidden, large enough to overpower the men on the gunboat in herdisabled condition. Do not let her leave Ilo Ilo until you have anew pilot, and one you are sure of.
"Demauny."
Captain James Demauny, of the American army in the Philippine Islands,folded the dispatch which he had just written, and sealed it. Then,calling an orderly to him he said, "Send Sergeant Johnson to me."
Captain Demauny's company was then at Pasi, a small inland town inthe island of Panay. He had been dispatched by the American generalcommanding at Ilo Ilo, the chief seaport of Panay, to march toCapiz, a seaport town on the opposite side of the island, to assistfrom the land side a small force of Americans besieged there by thenatives, while the gunboat Utica was to steam around the northeasternpromontory of the island and cooperate from the water side of the town,in its relief.
The distance across the island was about fifty miles, while thatby water, by the route which the Utica must traverse, was about twohundred miles. Captain Demauny, starting first, had covered half themarch laid out for him, without incident, until, halting at Pasi,half way across the island and well up in the mountains, he had beenso fortunate as to obtain the information which he was about to sendback to the commander at Ilo Ilo. Panay had been, up to this time, oneof the most quiet islands in the group. He had met with no oppositionin his march, so far, and it was believed that the only natives onthe island who were under arms were those living in the northeasternpart of the territory. It was a force of these that had invested Capiz.
"Sergeant Johnson, sir," the orderly reported.
"Very well. Send him in."
A young man, wearing a faded brown duck uniform, tightly buttonedleggings, and a wide-rimmed gray hat, entered the tent.
"I have sent for you, sergeant," said Captain Demauny, "for tworeasons. One is that I want a man who is brave, and one whom Ican trust."
The sergeant bent his head slightly, in acknowledgement of the impliedcompliment, his cheeks looking a trifle darker shade of brown, wherethe blood had flushed the skin beneath its double deep coat of tan.
"The other reason," the officer went on, "is that I want a man ofwhose muscle and endurance as a runner, and whose skill as a boatman,I have had some proof."
In spite of the difference in rank, and the seriousness of thesituation, which the officer knew and the man guessed, the two menlooked at each other and smiled. For one was a Harvard man, and theother had come from Yale.
"The gunboat Utica is to leave Ilo Ilo at midnight, tonight. It isof the very greatest importance that this dispatch," handing himthe letter, "be delivered to the American general at Ilo Ilo beforethe vessel gets under way. I entrust it to you, to see that it isdelivered.
"You ought to have no trouble in getting there in ample season," thecaptain continued, spreading out a map so that the other man could seeit. "I cannot spare any men for an escort for you, because my forceis already far too small for what we have to do. Instead of followingback the road we took in coming here--which would be impassable forany one but a man on foot, even if I had a horse for you, which Ihave not--I think you can make better time by another route.
"Six miles from here," pointing to the map, "you will reach the sameriver which we crossed at a point farther up the stream. Get a boatthere and go down the river some fifteen or twenty miles, until youcome to a native village built at the head of steep falls in thestream. I am told that until you reach there the river is navigable,and that the current is so swift much of the way that you can makerapid progress. At that village you will have to leave your boat,but from that place you will find a clearly marked path to Ilo Ilo.
"The quicker you start, the better; and, as I have told you, I trustit to you to see that the general has the dispatch before the Uticaleaves port."
It was ten o'clock in the forenoon when the sergeant had been sentfor to come to headquarters. Half an hour later he had started, theletter tightly wrapped in a bit of rubber blanket before he had placedit inside his jacket, for he had already had enough experience withthe native boats to know how unstable they would be in the currentof a rapid river.
The five miles from Pasi to the river were easily made, in spite ofthe fact that it was midday, for there was a good path, which, fornearly all the distance, was shaded by lofty trees. When he reachedthe river the sergeant bought from a man whom he found there a native"banca," for three dollars, a sum of money which would make a nativerich. In this boat he started on his voyage down the river.
A native "banca" is a "dug-out," a canoe hollowed out from the trunkof a tree. It is propelled and guided by a short, broad-bladed paddle,and is as unstable as the lightest racing shell, although not anywhere nearly so easy to send through the water.
It was unfortunate for the sergeant that he did not know--whathe could not, since the map did not show it--that the place wherethe path touched the river first was on the upper side of a huge"ox-bow" bend. If he had kept on by land, a third of a mile's walkfarther through the swamp would have brought him to the river again,at a point to reach which by water, following the river's windings,he would have to paddle three or four miles.
Another thing which was unfortunate; that he could not know thenature of the man from whom he bought the "banca," any better thanhe could know the nature of the river, and so did not suspect that hewas dealing with a "tulisane," to whom the little bag of money whichthe officer had shown when he had paid for the boat had looked likeboundless wealth, to see which was to plan to possess.
A "tulisane" is to the Philippine Islands what a brigand is to Italy,a bandit to Spain, a highwayman to England, and a train-robber toAmerica; a man who lives by his wits, and stops at no means to gainhis object. The "banca," by the way, was stolen property.
This man would have stabbed the American soldier when he stooped tostep cautiously into the slippery boat, and taken the purse from hisdead body, had he not been far-sighted enough to see that the pursemight be had, and much more money beside.
The "tulisane" knew that the American soldiers were at Pasi. Althoughhe did not find it best to come to town himself, in general, he neverhad any trouble finding men to go there for him, and bring him news,or carry messages. No bandit leader who promptly carves an ear off theman who does his errands grudgingly is half so feared as a Filipino"tulisane" whom his fellows know to be the possessor of a powerful"anting-anting." And this man's "anting-anting" was famous for thewonders which it had done.
The "tulisane" knew that the American soldiers were at Pasi; and thatthe man who led them lived in one of the white tents they had setup there. This man in the brown clothes, which looked so tight thatit made the Filipino tired just to look at them, could be no commonsoldier, else he would not be paying three big silver dollars for a"banca." If anything was to happen to this man--that is if he was todisappear, and still not be dead, and the officer in the white tentshould know of it--the leader of the white soldiers would no doubtpay much money to have his man brought safely back. Consequently theman in the brown clothes, with the fat money purse, should be madeto disappear.
That was the way the "tulisane" reasoned. It was the three dollars,the rest of the money in the purse, and the ransom which the leaderof the white men would pay, which influenced the Filipino. It wasnot that the Asiatic highwayman cared a leaf of a forest tree forpatriotism. So long as he got the money, white men and brown men wereall alike to him, American soldiers and Filipino insurgents.
So the native, going into the forest, a little way back from the river,looked until he found a tree the roots of which growing out from wellup the trunk had made a sort of great wooden drum. Taking a stoutstick of hard wood which had been leaned against the tree,--he had beenthere before,--he struck the hollow tree thr
ee heavy blows, the soundof which went echoing off through the forest. Then the man listened.
Not long; for from far, very far away, there came an answer, one blow,and then, after a moment's pause, two more. The drum beats whichfollowed, and the pauses for the faint replies, were like listeningto a giant's telegraph.
The soldier, paddling steadily out around the river's winding course,heard the noise and wondered curiously what it was. The natives whoheard it said, "The trees are talking," meaning that some one wasmaking them talk. To the "tulisane" the sounds meant that he wasbringing his partner to help him, just as at night the far-off,long-drawn cry of a panther calls the creature's mate to sharethe prey.
Sergeant Johnson, still paddling, after he would have said that withthe help of the current he had put four good miles of the river behindhim, saw a tiny ripple in the water ahead of the boat, but in a streamso rapid thought nothing of it.
An instant later a cocoanut fibre rope, stretched taut across theriver and just below the surface of the water, had turned his skittishboat bottom upward. The "tulisane," you see, had seen the sergeant'srevolver, and thought wisest to attack him wet.
Drenched, blowing for breath, before he knew what had happened, thesoldier found himself dragged to the bank, disarmed, robbed, his handsbound behind him, and his feet hobbled. He could speak Spanish andso could the "tulisanes." Words told him that his captors, only twoin number, meant him to march, hobbled as he was, along a path whichthey pointed out; but it took several sharp pricks from a "campilan"which one of them carried, to make him start. For the path led awayfrom the river, away from Pasi, from Ilo Ilo and the Utica, which hewould have given his life itself rather than fail to reach in time.
Only a little way back from the river the path began to leave the lowland, mounting up to the hills among which the "tulisanes" had theircamp. Sometimes one of the brigands led the way, with the prisonerbetween them, sometimes both drove him before them, secure in theknowledge that in his helpless condition he could not escape. Thecaptain's message, in its rubber case, still lay undisturbed and drywithin the messenger's jacket. For that he was glad, although his heartsank as every step carried him farther away from the destination ofthe dispatch, and from the chance of its being delivered in season.
The means which providence uses to accomplish the ends which it desiresare marvellous, and those of us who do not believe in providence say,"a strange coincidence."
The day before, back among the mountains of Panay, a little old Montesewoman, who had never heard of God, or of America, and whose only dresshad been thirty yards of fine bamboo plaiting coiled round and roundher body, had died.
When the dead body had been set properly upright beneath the tiny hutwhich had been the woman's home, and food and drink placed besideit for the long journey which the spirit was to take, the hut wasabandoned, as is the custom of the tribe, and the men of the family,the woman's sons and nephews, started out with freshly sharpenedlances and "mechetes."
For this is the only religion of the Monteses; that no one must be leftto go alone upon the long journey. And so, when one of a family dies,the men relatives do not stay their hands until some one,--the firstperson met,--is slain by them to go on the journey as an escort. Onlyif they seek three days through the wood, and find no human being,then, after the third day, a beast may be slain, and the law of bloodstill be satisfied.
The sons and nephews of the Montese woman had marched for thirty-sixhours, and the steel of their weapons had not been dimmed by anymoisture other than the dew, when, suddenly rounding a turn in themountain path, they met three men.
The first of the three at that moment was the "tulisane" leader,and him, in thirty seconds, they had driven six lances through. Hispartner, with a scream of terror, dashed into the trackless forest anddisappeared. He need not. The demand for a sacrifice was appeased,and the men who had killed the "tulisane" cared as little for hiscompanion as they did for the white man who had been his prisoner. Allthey wanted, now, was to get back to the Montese country, and tothe new huts which their women would have been building in theirabsence. The white man's words they could not understand, but hisgestures were intelligible, and before they parted, he to hurry backtowards the river and they towards the Montese country, they hadcut the cords which bound the soldier's hands and hobbled his feet,and thus had left him free to make such haste as he could.
Even then the afternoon was well nigh gone when the messengerreached the river at the place where he had been dragged from it;and practically all his journey was yet before him, wearied as he was.
For once, though, fortune favored him. His dug-out had grounded on asandy island hardly a dozen rods below where it had been overturned,and swimming out to it, he soon had righted it and was on his wayagain.
At first the forest on each side was a tropic swamp. Then the rivergrew more swift, with here and there rapids in which it took all hisskill with his clumsy paddle to keep his boat from being upset. Theground had begun to grow higher here, and back from the banks therewere rank growths of hemp and palm trees.
A few miles farther, and he was in the mountains, the riverwinding about like a lane of water between walls which were almostperpendicular, and covered with the densest, bright green foliage,in which parrots croaked hoarsely and monkeys chattered sleepily asthey settled themselves for the night. The walls of the living canongrew narrower and steeper. The river here was as still as a lake, andthe current so sluggish that only his labour with the paddle sent the"banca" forward. It grew dark quickly and fast, down in the bottomof this mountain gorge, and by and by the twilight glow on the topsof the banks, when he would peer up at them, grew fainter.
The soldier strained his eyes to look ahead. Would the living greencanons of that river never end? It was dark now, except that the starsin the narrow line of sky above the gorge sent down light enough tomake the surface of the water gleam faintly and mark out his course.
He drew his paddle from the water, and holding it so that the dropswhich trickled from it would make no noise, listened breathlessly forthe sound of the falls which marked the site of the village he wasto find, and at it leave his boat for the land again. A night birdscreamed in the forest, and then there was utter silence, until asoft splash in the water beside him revealed the ugly head of a hugeblack crocodile following the dug-out.
By and by the stars in the lane of sky above grew dim, and a strongerlight, which faintly illuminated the river gorge, told him thatthe full moon had risen, although not yet high enough to light hiscourse directly. After a time the gorge grew wider and its sides lesssteep and high; and then, at last, he heard the roar of the falls,and found the village, and had landed.
What time it might be now the sergeant did not dare to guess. A sleepynative pointed out to him the path, stared, when the stranger saidhe must hurry on to Ilo Ilo that night, and flatly refusing to behis guide, went back to bed.
The forest path was rankly wet with night dew, and dimly lightedby the moon. The soldier hurried forward, only to find that in hishaste he had missed the main path. Slowly and anxiously he retracedhis way until he found the right road again, and then went forwardslowly enough now to go with care.
And so, at last, he saw before him the city of Ilo Ilo, only to learn,when he was challenged by a picket, that it was one o'clock and thatthe Utica had steamed out of the harbour an hour before.
Useless as he feared the dispatch might be now, Sergeant Johnsoninsisted that it be delivered at once, and that he be given anopportunity to ask to be allowed to tell the general why he was solate. When that officer, roused from sleep, had read the dispatch andheard the story briefly, for there were other things to be thought ofthen, he told the young man, "You have done well," for he knew theways of Filipino "tulisanes," "and after all perhaps you may not betoo late."
But before he explained what he meant by the last part of his sentence,the general called for one of his aids, and as soon as the man couldbe brought, hastily gave him certain orders with instructio
ns thatthey were to be communicated to the officers whom they concerned,as quickly as was possible, regardless of how sound asleep thosegentlemen might be.
Then, because he was at heart a kindly man, and because he felt thatthe water-soaked, thorn-torn soldier before him, pale with wearinessand anxiety, had done his best, the general told him what was thenature of the dispatch, and why, even then, he might yet be in time.
For by another of the fortunate dispensations of providence, or ifyou please, by a strange coincidence, that very afternoon anotherAmerican gunboat had unexpectedly steamed into the harbour of IloIlo and dropped anchor.
The general had sent messages to the commander of the Ogdensburgh,explaining the situation to him, and as soon as that officer understoodthe matter he replied, "You did just right."
"We will start in pursuit of the Utica as soon as we can get up steam,and do our best to overtake her."
Could they overtake her? That was the question. She had a good threehours start, for daylight was breaking before the Ogdensburgh could begot under way, and the registered speed of the boats was about equal.
At any rate there was doubt enough as to what the result would beso that when the Ogdensburgh reached the town of Concepcion, fiftymiles up the coast from Ilo Ilo, and the Utica was seen to be lyingat anchor in the harbour there, the commander of the Ogdensburgh saidwords which were as thankful as they were emphatic. For just beyondConcepcion harbour began the narrow channels of the Gigantes Islands,in some of which he had feared to find the gunboat wrecked.
When the captain of the Utica came to know why he was pursued, and whathe had escaped, he was as grateful for the faulty cylinder head whichhad delayed him as, the night before, he had been exasperated by it.
The pilot, charged with his treachery, proved at once that the chargewas true, by turning traitor again and offering to buy the safetyof his own neck by guiding the boats to where they could shell thewoods in which the natives were hidden.