"Halt!" The sentry on Post No. 4 wheeled and took aim. There wasanother rustle in the bushes. "Halt!" came the second warning. Luckilythe man was an old soldier, whose nerves were well seasoned. Therewould be only one more warning; the bullet would come then. Tenselythe sentry listened. In the jungle one does not wait long out ofcuriosity. Just as he was about to utter his ultimatum and emphasizeit with lead, a slender form tottered through the bushes and fell tothe ground.
"Sure, an' he 's a-playin' dead. None of that game for yer UncleDudley." The Irishman, coming to port arms, sang out:
"Corporal of the guard. Number Four!" Never taking his eyes off thestill form, he waited.
"What's up?" called the corporal, as he came running up the trailwith his squad.
"Suspicious greaser!" The sentry pointed at the prostrateform. Cautiously they approached it. Too many times their humanesympathy had been rewarded by treachery. The native did not stir. Oneof the guard poked him with his foot. There was no resistance.
"Guess he's all in, all right," announced the corporal. "Heave himup. Never mind the leeches; they won't hurt you." The boy was liftedto the top of a woodpile. He bore the marks of the jungle. His handsand feet were scratched and torn by thorns, some of which still showedin the flesh. His ribs showed plainly through the tightly pulled skin,and leeches clung to him, sucking the blood from his tired body. Thelong hair had been jerked from its customary chignon, and was hangingloose around his head. His thin arms hung listlessly at his side.
"Gosh, he needs a wash bad enough. Must have been starving, too." Withhis bayonet the corporal removed the black hair from the face. Utteringan exclamation, he bent over the boy.
"Well, I'll be dinged! This is the kid Lieutenant Lewis sent up to thelake! How in tarnation did he get to us from this direction?" The mensilently exchanged glances, all remembering their fruitless attemptsto make a trail over the Dos Hermanas. Forcing water between theparched lips, the corporal gently shook Piang. The boy opened hiseyes and shuddered.
"You're all right now, little 'un," the corporal said, and althoughPiang did not understand the language, he responded to the kind tonewith a weak smile. Slowly getting to his elbow, he motioned towardthe garrison:
"_Hombre!_" ("Man!") he muttered. It was the only Spanish word he knew,and the soldiers guessed that he wanted Lieutenant Lewis.
"Give him a lift, boys," said the corporal and set the example byhelping Piang to stand.