An American expedition was slowly toiling across the island ofLuzon to locate and occupy a post in the north. Four companies ofmen marched in advance, with a guard in the rear. Between them werethe mule teams with the camp luggage and the ever present hospitalcorps. No trace of the enemy had been seen in that part of the islandfor weeks. Scouts who had gone on in advance had reported the way tobe clear, and the force was being hurried up to get through a ravinewhich it was approaching, so it could go into camp for the night onhigh, level ground just beyond the valley.
Suddenly a man's voice rang out upon the hot air; an English, speakingvoice, strong and clear, and coming, so it seemed at first to thetroops when they heard it, from the air above them:
"Halt! Halt!" the voice cried.
"Go back! There is an ambush on both sides! Save yourselves! Be--"
The warning was unfinished. Those of the Americans who had locatedthe sound of the words and had looked in the direction from whichthey came, had seen a white man standing on the rocky side of theravine above them and in front of them. They had seen him throw uphis arms and fall backward out of sight, leaving his last sentenceunfinished. Then there had come the report of a gun, and then anattack, with scores of shouting Tagalogs swarming down the sides ofthe ravine.
The skirmish was over, though, almost as soon as it had begun, andwith little harm to any of the Americans except to such of the scoutsas had been cut off in advance. The warning had come in time--had comebefore the advancing column had marched between the forces hidden onboth sides of the ravine. The Tagalogs could not face the fire withwhich the Americans met them. They fled up the ravine, and up bothsides of the gorge, into the shelter of the forest, and were gone. TheAmericans, satisfied at length that the way was clear, moved forwardand went into camp on the ground which had previously been chosen,throwing out advance lines of pickets, and taking extra precautionsto be prepared against a night attack.
Early in the evening shots were heard on the outer picket line, anda little later two men came to the commanding officers tent bringingwith them a native.
"He was trying to come through our lines and get into the camp, sir,"they reported. "Two men fired at him, but missed him."
"Think he's a spy?" the commander asked of another officer who waswith him.
"No, Senor, I am not a spy," the prisoner said, surprising all themen by speaking in English. "I have left my people, I want to be sentto Manila, to the American camp there."
"He's a deserter," said one of the officers. Then to the men who heldthe prisoner, "Better search him."
From out the prisoner's blouse one of the soldiers brought a paper,a sheet torn from a note book, folded, and fastened only by a red,white and blue badge pin stuck through the paper.
The officer to whom the soldier had handed the paper pulled out thepin which had kept it folded, and started to open it, when he sawthere was something written on the side through which the pin had beenthrust. Bending down to where the camp light fell upon the writing,he saw that it was an address, scrawled in lead pencil:
"Mrs. Hannah Smith; Nurse."
"Do you know the woman to whom this letter is sent? he asked inamazement of the Tagalog from whom it had been taken.
"Yes Senor."
"Do you know where she is now?"
"Yes, Senor. She is in a hospital not far from Manila. She is agood woman. My life is hers. I was there once for many, many days,shot through here," he placed his hand on his side, "and she made mewell again."
"Do you know who sent this letter to her?"
"Yes, Senor."
"Who was it?"
The man hesitated.
"Who was it? Answer. It is for her good I want to know."
"It was her son, Senor."
"Was he the man who gave us warning of the ambush today?"
"Yes, Senor."
The officer folded the paper, unread, and thrust the pin back throughthe folds. The enamel on the badge glistened in the camp light.
"Keep the Tagalog here," he said to the men, "until I come back;"and walked across the camp to where the hospital tents had been set up.
"Where is Mrs. Smith?" he asked of the surgeon in charge.
"Taking care of the men who were wounded this afternoon."
"Will you tell her that I want to see her alone in your tent, here,and then see that no one else comes in?"
"Mrs. Smith," he said, when the nurse came in, "I have something herefor you--a letter. It has just been brought into camp, by a native whodid not know that you were here and who wanted to be sent to Manilato find you. It is not very strongly sealed, but no one has read itsince it was brought into camp."
He gave the bit of paper to the nurse, and then turned away to standin the door of the tent, that he might not look at her while she readit. Enough of the nurse's story was known in the army now so that theofficer could guess something of what this message might mean to her.
A sound in the tent behind the officer made him turn. The woman hadsunk down on the ground beneath the surgeon's light, and resting herarms upon a camp stool had hid her face.
A moment later she raised her head, her face wet with tears andwearing an expression of mingled grief and joy, and held out theletter to the officer.
"Read it!" she said. "Thank God!" and then, "My boy! My boy!" andhid her face again.
"Dear mother," the scrawled note read.
"I got your letter. I'm glad you wrote it. It made things plain Ihadn't seen before. My chance has come--quicker than I had expected. Iwish I might have seen you again, but I shan't. A column of our menare coming up the valley just below here, marching straight into anambush. I have tried to get word to them, but I can't, because theTagalogs watch me so close. They never have trusted me. The only wayfor me is to rush out when the men get near enough, and shout to them,and that will be the end of it all for me. I don't care, only that Iwish I could see you again. Juan will take this letter to you. Whenyou get it, and the men come back, if I save them, I think perhapsthey will clear my name. Then you can go home.
"The men are almost here. Mother, dear, good by.--Your Boy."
"I wish I might have seen him," the woman said, a little later. "ButI won't complain. What I most prayed God for has been granted me."
"They'll let the charge against him drop, now, won't they? Don't youthink he has earned it?"
"I think he surely has. No braver deed has been done in all this war."
"Don't try to come, now, Mrs Smith," as the nurse rose to herfeet. "Stay here, and I will send one of the women to you."
When he had done this the officer went back to where the men werestill holding Juan between them.
"Your journey is shorter than you thought," the officer said to theTagalog. "Mrs. Smith is in this camp, and I have given the letterto her."
"May I see her?" exclaimed the man.
"Not now. In the morning you may. Have you seen this man, her son,since he was shot?"
"No, Senor. He gave me the note and told me to slip into the forestas soon as the fight began, so as to get away without any one seeingme. Then I was to stay out of the way until I could get into thiscamp."
"Do you know where he stood when he was shot?"
"Yes, Senor."
"Can you take a party of men there tonight?"
"Yes, Senor; most gladly."