The Woman with a Stone Heart
CHAPTER II.
FIRST SHOT OF A NEW WAR
Three weeks passed by. Marie had gone down town late in April todo some shopping. While she was standing in the door of the oldpostoffice on the Escolta, she heard the shrill voice of a Filipinolad piping out: "Papers! Papers! All about the war with the UnitedStates. Dewey's comin'!" He had a bundle of newspapers under his rightarm and was waving one in his left hand. Everybody rushed out of thebazaars and offices along the Escolta where they were transactingtheir business, and each one who could get near enough to the boy,eagerly bought a morning paper.
The lad's papers were all gone but one. Marie Sampalit snatched it fromhis hands, and dropped into one of them a small coin. She stepped intothe corridor of the post office, to escape the annoyance of the crowd,and read the large head lines:
"WAR BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES AND SPAIN
dewey en route to manila great naval battle friday or saturday in manila bay
The Stone Wall Around the City will be Razed to the Ground. Great Loss of Life."
"Then, I'm off for Corregidor Island right away!" exclaimedMarie. "Dewey can't get into the Bay except by that route. That'swhere the fight will begin. Mother doesn't know this. I'll tell herI am going to take some supplies to the Spanish garrison. I will goat once!"
She set out from Manila in a small casco, or flat-bottomed native boat,heavily laden with fresh fish, pine-apples, mangoes, bananas, tobaccoand cigarettes--all intended for the Spanish garrison on CorregidorIsland. Manila is situated on the eastern shore of Manila Bay. Fromthere to the island it is nearly thirty miles. Her little boat wasdriven forward on its journey by an easterly wind that gently swelledthe tiny sails.
She reached the island at five o'clock that afternoon and was givena royal welcome by the Spanish soldiers. Marie gave them the morningpaper containing the news of Dewey's prospective arrival. She askedpermission to take part in the fight.
Marie was a favorite with the Spanish garrison. Her genial disposition,added to her almost inconceivable daring, had won for her thefriendship and admiration of all. The gunners had playfully taughther all about loading, firing and swabbing their cannon. She had alsolearned the art of good marksmanship, so that at a target practiceshe was an adept.
Impatiently she awaited the arrival of the American fleet. She heardthe Spaniards discuss among themselves the cowardice of the Americansoldiers, and saw them wager the Dewey would not come to Manila at allbut that he would sail down around the Malay Peninsula and hasten homeby way of Good Hope to save his vessels from certain destruction. Allthis sounded plausible to her and she grew restless and enthusiasticas the dull hours dragged away.
Dewey was so long in coming from Hongkong and the garrison on theisland had been kept at their guns ready for action for so many hourswithout rest that many of them were completely tired out by the lastday of April, and asked for relief. It was hard to give it. Marie'sopportunity had come. Her ability as an expert rifle shot was knownalike to officers and enlisted men. She offered to serve. The Spanishcommandant could not well refuse. He needed her services; besides,the Spaniards were just then doing all within their power to win thetemporary friendship of the natives. Consequently, he promised toassign her to duty for the night.
The sunset, as viewed from Corregidor Island on the evening ofApril 30, was most glorious. Not a cloud was in the sky; a dead calmprevailed, so that the sea was unusually smooth. As the sun sank torest behind the shimmering horizon it caused the island to cast along shadow over Manila bay as far as the eye could reach, but thissoon disappeared.
When the sun had sunk from view, Marie noticed that a comparativelynew moon was visible in the sky, and she remarked to the Sergeantof the Guard, "It will not be very dark to-night. We can see theAmericanos a long way off."
"Yes," replied the Sergeant, "the only difficulty with the cowards isthat they will not come near enough to be seen at all. They have hadplenty of time to run from Hongkong to Manila and back again; stillthey have not been seen or heard of. I'll bet you a peso (Spanishdollar) that they have gone home and that all of this excitement hasbeen for nothing. Dewey is getting old, Marie; he doesn't want to goto a watery grave so far from home. If he were young and ambitious,it would be different. Old men do not care much about real fighting,especially on the sea. It is different with old generals commandingland forces. They can sit away back in the rear of the battle-field,receive messages that come to them; plan certain movements based uponthese reports; and while they do have considerable responsibility,still they are not in the actual fight. As for Dewey, nobody hasever heard of him. He is not a recognized naval commander. Besides,the old fellow, according to reports, is slow and easy going. If heshould come to make us an unfriendly call tonight, mark my word, Marie,there will not be a sliver of his entire fleet left floating above thewater yonder inside of thirty minutes after the first shot is fired."
He had scarcely concluded speaking when the Officer of the Guard,Lieutenant Orlando, called out, "Sergeant of the Guard! Fall in theFirst Relief!" The Sergeant threw his arm over Marie's shoulder in anaffectionate manner, smacked a hurried caress against her olive cheek,jumped up from the little bamboo bench on which they were sitting,rushed up to the guard house and cried out, "First Relief! Fall in!"
Marie hastened after him. As the relief was forming in line, she seizeda Mauser rifle that stood leaning against a huge rock, grabbed up acartridge belt well filled with Mauser ammunition that was lying onthe ground near by, hastily adjusted it to fit her waist measure,buckled it on and fell into the rear rank.
"Count fours!" ordered the Sergeant. As is usual in military affairs,the front and rear rank men count in unison; that is, number one inthe front rank and number one in the rear rank both count "one" at thesame time; second file counts "two," etc. When it came to Marie shepiped out simultaneously with the corporal who stood in front of her,"quatro." (four).
As the guard was marched along the stony pathways on Corregidor Islandand the various sentinels were relieved, Marie soon saw that there wasnot going to be a place for her. She tip-toed up to the corporal whowas posting the relief and asked him where he was going to station her.
"Never mind," said the corporal, "we have a place for you." And sureenough, they had.
Every soldier or civilian who has ever been on this island will readilyrecall the rough, hard-beaten, winding path that led from the summit ofthe hill, in a south-westerly direction, down over precipices, aroundclumps of bamboo, to a beautiful fresh water spring which bubbledout of the coral rocks at a point just high enough to prevent it frombeing inundated or even infiltrated during the season of high tides.
A few feet from this spring and elevated but slightly above it, is amassive, flat rock. Along the north and west sides of this rock is avertical stone precipice some eight feet high, which from its upperedge inclines back gradually at an angle of about twenty degreesabove a horizontal plane, toward the crest of the island.
On this rock Spain firmly bolted one of her most modern cannon--agood seven-inch gun. It was so situated on a revolving casement thatits shots could be made to sweep the whole Boca Grande channel, asthe large entrance south of the island is called. Marie had oftenoperated this gun. She had done splendid work with it on a floatingtarget two miles distant. Its deadly roar was her delight. Oh! ifshe could but use it just once on an actual enemy instead of firingit at an indicated one!
When the old guard had been relieved and the sentries were marchedback to the guard-house to be dismissed, poor Marie, heavy hearted,marched along. Just as they approached the guard-house, the sergeantmotioned to her to fall out and to come toward him. This she did.
Into her ear he whispered the information that was to start her on hereventful military career. "Marie," said he, "the officer of the Guardinforms me that we cannot use you in the infantry service tonight,but that you will be needed with the artillery."
"Good!" exclaimed Marie, "Where shall I serve?"
&
nbsp; "At the new gun on the large rock near the spring," answered theSergeant.
"Thank heaven!" said Marie. "Dewey will surely come, and when I puta solid shot through the 'Olympia' just below the water line--thebattle will be half over. Oh! I'm so anxious! May I go down theretonight and take charge of the gun at once?"
The Sergeant told her to report to the headquarters of the artillerydepartment where she would receive instructions.
At last she found herself on actual duty. How her young heart throbbedas her black eyes peered forth into the darkness. Toward midnight,small clouds began to drift oceanward. For a few moments at a timethey would obscure the quartered cheek of the young moon. Oh! ifDewey would but come. The hopes of a life-time were poised on thatpainful "if." Before her was the dream of glory; behind her, thedreary forgetfulness of the past. Hour after hour whiled away. Thetiny lights in the natives' shacks along the opposite shore began togo out and grow fewer and fewer until the closing day had died safelyaway into the solemn night. As usual, "taps" were blown at ten o'clockand things on the island grew very quiet. Days--yes, weeks--seemedto crowd themselves into those long hours. Would he ever come?
Presently she heard the sentry's shrill cry on the brow of the hill,"Twelve o'clock! All's well!" The echo of his repeated call hadscarcely died away when Marie thought she saw something dark on thewater near the center of the channel, perhaps three miles away. Shewhispered to a member of the artillery corps, who sat near her watchingthe shadow of his pipe on the rock near the base of the cannon. Theyboth looked. Surely! it's Dewey! The artilleryman sent up a rocket asa warning. Marie took hurried aim. "Boom!" went her cannon, and fromits mouth a seven-inch shot was hurled over the "Concord," betweenits main and mizzen masts. It went a trifle high and did no harm.
"Bang!" went one of the port batteries on the "Raleigh" and beforeits flash was gone a shudder shot through every vein, every nerveand every fiber of Marie's body. Such a crash she had never heardbefore. "War is hell" to be sure. She sniffed the smoke from her owngun, and looked around to see what had happened. The stone precipicebehind her was torn into fragments. A man's hand protruded from thedebris. "My God!" she murmured. Yes, there was the evidence. Theman who had sat by her side and who sent up the rocket, lay cold indeath. His head was torn off and his body was mangled among the piecesof broken rock. The gunner on the "Raleigh" had done his work well;and Marie's dream of American cowardice, of their poor marksmanshipand of her ability to sink Dewey's flag ship, were shattered in aninstant. She had fired the FIRST gun of the war, but not the LAST!