time the men had stowed their mess tins in their haversacks, buckled on their tin cups and cartridge belts, and stood at ease awaiting the first order. This was not long in coming, and we soon formed line, still in close order, marched the few rods to the summit of the ridge, jumped over the trenches occupied by the men of one of the recently arrived regular regiments, and started down the gentle slope. As soon as we had cleared the steeper part of the slope the Second and Third Battalions began deploying, while the First remained stationary, with orders to let us have five hundred yards start, when it was to follow in line of platoons in column. The First Montana, on our right, had already started, as also had Hale's brigade, still to its right, and already the crackle of the Mausers was heard to our right front as these regiments came under fire. The Third Artillery, on our left, waited until we were even with its position and then leaped over its trenches and started for the goal. We were crossing an almost level plain, and nearly all of the two brigades could be seen at one time, as they silently advanced in a long, irregular line toward the woods that sheltered the enemy's outpost line. It was a spectacle enough to inspire any man. It looked like a manœuvre, but it was war. Already the woods fifteen hundred yards on our front were crackling and popping and the bullets were kicking up dust spots on the dry ground.

All our fighting heretofore had been in close country, so that we had not tried the advance by alternate rushes, but this was a good place for it, and although the distance was too great for us to begin firing with effect, we put into practice what we had learned on the drill ground at the Presidio. One platoon, that is half a company, would rush forward for about fifty yards and throw itself prone, while the other platoon would rise and rush past it. Of course this made an irregular and apparently waving line, but we were getting over ground at a good rate.

Hale's brigade, not having so far to go to close with the enemy, had opened fire, as also had the First Montana, and now we were within seven hundred yards of the woods. I turned to Chief-Trumpeter Barshfield walking, or rather trotting, along beside my horse and ordered "Commence

firing" blown. The men had been anxious to reply, and went at it with a vengeance, each platoon firing while it was prone, and then rising at the word of command and dashing to the front. My horse, the same little bay that had been shot under me at Caloocan, showed that he remembered something, and for the first time was skittish under fire. Nothing could be seen on our front that looked like an enemy, so that our target was the edge of the woods, where it was known that the line must be. The fire of the enemy not being of much volume, we knew that this must be merely a line of strong outposts, and that the real trouble would be farther in the depths of the woods.

During this advance by rushes a man in Company D received a most peculiar wound. He had just thrown himself prone when he felt a severe blow on his right shoulder, being completely prostrated. The Hospital Corps men who accompanied the firing line applied the first aid bandage and sent him back to the dressing station at La Loma church. Here an examination disclosed the wound of entrance in his right shoulder, and also the supposed exit of the bullet in the form of a hole in his right side just where his cartridge belt had been. Sent into the First Reserve hospital in Manila, he was treated under the very natural supposition that he was rid of his bullet, but eleven days after his admission one of the nurses in bathing the man noticed what appeared to be a swelling just above his right knee. Calling the attention of the surgeon to the matter, that individual went after the object with his instruments, and extracted a Mauser bullet. The missile, traversing his body lengthwise close to the surface, had struck the tight and unyielding belt where it would have made its exit, but being foiled, and having considerable energy left, had continued its journey through the unfortunate man's anatomy until its force was expended just above his knee. It is disturbing to be shot through the body in the orthodox manner, but it is enough to make one positively peevish to have a hole drilled through him lengthways. Astonishing to relate, the man recovered in a short time.

We continued the advance by rushes until within about two hundred yards of the enemy, when the "Charge" sent the two battalions over the remaining ground in no time, the enemy's weak line bolting into the

woods. It was only a line of outposts behind not particularly good cover, and should not have remained as long as it did, but when we opened fire should have retired on the main line.

The men of Company G had a bull-dog that they had brought with them from Coffeyville, Kansas, and of which they were exceedingly fond. I had heard much of the antics of this animal in battle, and on this occasion had an opportunity to see him perform. He was perfectly frantic with excitement, apparently thinking that the whole show was something for his especial benefit, and ran up and down the line of his company barking furiously. At the charge he distanced everybody in the race to the enemy's position. This dog was in every engagement that the company was in, and went through it all without mishap, but after his return he indiscreetly bit Coffeyville's police force in the leg and was promptly shot, an ending for the company pet that all but started a riot.

The Filipino line having been weakly held, we naturally found but few of them on the ground. I do not know the number that were along that portion of their line carried by my regiment, but counted seven dead at the place struck by the right of our line. There were also two badly wounded that they had not been able to remove, and these we sent in with our own wounded. At the same place we picked up nine rifles. Positive orders had been issued before the advance for the First Montana to keep its left on a road which ran at right angles with its direction while the right of my own regiment was to rest on the same road. But from the start the regiment named had inclined too much to the left, and before we reached the enemy's line nearly two companies were on our side of the road. We were being telescoped, and in order to avoid crowding the Third Artillery on our left we had to take several companies out of the firing line, but not until I had lost my temper and "cussed out" an officer of the offending regiment, who bristled up and told me he took no orders from outsiders, and that he had no instructions to keep his left on the road. Filled with wrath, righteous from my own stand-point, I determined to appeal to higher authority. The brigade commander was somewhere in the rear of the line of his command, but I did not

know just where. However, a group of mounted officers only a short distance back on the road I recognized from the distinguishing flag as General MacArthur and his staff. While the regiment was straightening itself out and getting its breath I rode back as fast as my horse could run and sputtered out my tale of woe. The general looked at me in a quizzical sort of way and said, "Well, well, Funston, is that all is the matter? Let's not get excited about little things. It is better to wait for something serious." But he sent an officer to straighten out the tangle. He evidently was considerably amused by my outburst.

Returning to the regiment, which by this time had got itself pulled together, we resumed the advance, now over somewhat rougher ground and through woods that in places were rather dense, but here and there comparatively open. We knew that somewhere on our front was the Tuliajan River, but owing to the wretched maps of the country that the Spaniards had made, the distance was uncertain. Naturally our own people had never been able to map this region, lying as it did in the insurgent lines, nor would it have been possible for patrols to have made the necessary examination.

The whole brigade was, of course, participating in this renewed advance, and we were working our way cautiously forward, examining the country on our front as well as we could under the circumstances. The ground was sloping gently downward, and it was realized that we must be near the river. An occasional rifle shot and a bullet zipping through the tree tops was the only sign of an enemy. We suddenly heard a most terrific crashing in the woods to our left as the Third Artillery engaged in a desperate close range struggle in which it lost about thirty men killed and wounded, and in an instant the woods on our own front added to the pandemonium. It was exceedingly difficult to decide what to do. To rush the men down to the river, which we could now make out about three hundred yards ahead of the line, might place the regiment in a position where it would be shot to pieces by the well-intrenched enemy on the opposite bank in case it should be too deep to wade. To retire was of course out of the question, so the only thing to do was to close as rapidly as possible and take chances on the depth of the stream.

Past experience had shown us that even with the enemy entrenched we could overcome his fire. So the companies on the firing line now rushed down to the bank, threw themselves flat, and fought desperately.

In order that I might be able to exercise some influence on the firing line as a whole, and not get mixed up in a local fight where I could see only one or two companies, I remained about two hundred yards behind the line for the time being. Here I was joined by the well-known correspondent, Mr. James Creelman. I had sent Sergeant-Major Warner and Trumpeter Barshfield away to carry orders, and was glad to have company. The noise was so overwhelming that it was difficult to think, for the whole brigade was fighting as hard as it could and the woods were filled with the roar. Creelman and I sat on our horses for awhile, and then unanimously dismounted, the idea seeming to strike both of us at the same time. Companies E and H had struck the worst of it, being opposite the most formidable trench, and Creelman and I were directly behind them. A natural tendency of the Filipino, and for that matter, most people, to shoot high made our position one of the warmest places I have ever been in. Only once, and that at Cascorra in far-away Cuba, had I seen bullets thicker. The two companies were right on the river bank, and as the stream was not more than forty feet wide, and the Filipino trenches were on the opposite bank, the two firing lines were not more than fifty feet apart. The river looked deep, but as yet our people had not overcome the enemy's fire sufficiently to allow the matter to be tested.

Captain Adna G. Clarke, now a captain in the regular army, was in command of Company H, and I could see him standing erect in order to better direct the fire of his men, who were lying down. In a short time I saw him crumple up and go down with a wound from which I believe he has not fully recovered to this day. Majors Metcalf and Whitman were close up to the river bank, their two battalions being most hotly engaged. Finally I could stand it no longer, and in the hope that I could find a place where there was a practicable crossing, rode toward the left of the regiment, which had not been so severely engaged,

but managed to get my horse stuck in a boggy ravine, and so gave that up, and dismounting, started on a run to join the two companies that were so deeply involved, in the hope that by swimming, if necessary, we could bring the thing to a finish. Passing a little clump of bamboos, I heard a groan coming from them, and saw four of our poor fellows scattered on a space no larger than an ordinary bedroom.

As soon as I reached the firing line I motioned, for no commands could be heard, for some of the men to get into the water and try to cross. Captain William J. Watson, commanding Company E, and two or three men plunged in and struggled across, the water being nearly to their shoulders, and were followed by a number of others, the men holding their rifles over their heads. As the first of these men came up the bank the Filipinos bolted, knowing it was all over, and but few of them could be brought down in flight, as the north bank was higher than the one our men were on, and the men could not see them. However, I saw Lieutenant Colin H. Ball do some good short range work with his revolver, he being one of those who had crossed.

In the meantime my horse had extricated himself from the mud, and had come trotting toward the excitement. A soldier caught him and brought him to me, and by the time I had mounted, the fighting on our front was over. A better crossing was found about a hundred yards down stream, and I had no difficulty in getting the pony through. The men of the regiment, now that the fighting had ceased, waded the stream at the same place, and were allowed to throw themselves on the ground to rest until further orders should be received.

Only a very small portion of the regiment had been seriously engaged, as the enemy's trenches were not continuous, although there had been resistance all along the line, but in many cases the fire had come from men lying down a hundred yards or so from the river bank. After our men had got close to the river they had not suffered much, as the Filipinos did not like to rise up enough to do even fairly good shooting, but Companies E and H had been pretty well shot up in getting to close quarters.

Our loss was Privates Craig, Anibal, and Plummer killed, and Captain Clarke and

twelve enlisted men wounded. Craig was the youngest of three brothers in the same company, one of them being a first-lieutenant and the other a sergeant, these last two being now officers in the regular army. In and near the trench that had given us the most trouble we found twenty-nine of the enemy's dead. As usual, the most of his wounded had succeeded in escaping, though we found seven. Scattered about on the ground were about thirty rifles, that we broke up and threw into the river.

In the meantime the Third Artillery, on our left, had fought its way across the stream, overcoming more serious difficulties than those that had confronted us, as in addition to trenches they had to take an elaborate and obstinately defended fieldwork.

VOL L.-16

The First Montana had had a fight about as stiff as our own, and had crossed the river to our right. Still farther away we could hear a scattering fire as Hale's brigade was making its way, overcoming great difficulties in the way of dense brush and badly cut up country. Still farther to the right Hall's brigade was having its fight, but the sounds of battle, if they reached our ears, were confused with that of other firing in the same direction. Much nearer in, on our right, at the place where the Novaliches wagon road crosses the Tuliajan, was an almost incessant small-arms fire punctuated with cannon shots and the tap, tap, tap of a Colt automatic gun. At this place a very strong field-work and flanking trenches, constructed for the purpose of protecting the crossing, were stoutly resisting a de

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tachment of the Fourth Cavalry and some artillery. A field-piece and the automatic gun were run up to the bank of the river and served in the open at a distance of a few rods, and it was not until the shells began to pierce the well-made parapet that the defenders fled. The Colt gun was under the command of Ensign Cleland Davis of the navy, he having a detachment of three marines to serve it. Ensign Davis had joined us in the Caloocan trenches, and had had occasional opportunities to try out his weapon. He accompanied us through the whole campaign to Malolos, and we often heard the rhythmical popping of the little gun, which could be distinguished through quite a heavy infantry fire. Davis always got into close quarters with his little weapon whenever there was opportunity, and made it count. The navy's detachment was very popular with the army, and they seemed to enjoy their part of the campaign immensely. According to the plans of the battle, Wheaton's brigade, which, it will be remembered, was on the extreme left of the line, occupying the old Caloocan trenches, was to wait until the brigades of Otis and Hale had pierced the centre of the line, and then move out straight to the front, the supposition being that Hale's brigade by making a rapid left turn would cut off the retreat of the enemy. We were straightening ourselves out after the rather confused crossing of the river, and were sending out patrols to the front, when we heard toward our left rear a crackle of rifle fire, which in a moment swelled into a most appalling amount of sound, and we knew that the fiery Wheaton was going after them hammer and tongs. His brigade was more than two thousand strong, and was resisted by a somewhat larger number of the enemy occupying successive lines of trenches.

If any one thinks that more than four thousand men using breech-loaders as rapidly as they can load and fire cannot wake the echoes, I wish he could have heard the astonishing roar that smote our ears on this occasion. There was no rattle, just a roar that drowned individual shots, and through which the crashes of the field-pieces could barely be distinguished.

The brigade soon reached the south bank of the river, but did not cross, as it was now known that our turning movement was meeting with difficulties, and it was not de

sired to push the insurgents any farther up the railroad at present. The country on the front of Hale's brigade was to us a veritable unknown land. To have explored it before the outbreak might have precipitated matters with the insurgents, and any attempt to examine it after the war began could only have resulted in the loss of the detachments sent out for the purpose. It turned out to be a dense tangle of forest and undergrowth, cut up with ravines. It was out of the question for troops in extended order to make any rapid progress through it, and the day had turned out to be very hot. The situation made it necessary for us to remain where we were until the next morning, and we proceeded to make ourselves comfortable, no difficult matter with water and firewood in abundance.

The brigade commander had joined us at this point just after the crossing of the river, and camped near us. It was in the midst of the dry season, and the men did not even use their shelter halves, commonly known as pup tents, so that all that was necessary was to stretch ourselves out under the stars and sleep as well as the hard ground would let us. It was, in fact, campaigning under almost ideal conditions.

During the night we were aroused by about a dozen shots from one of our outposts, and a man came in to report that a small band of the enemy trying to sneak up on it had been driven off. The officer of the day went out to investigate, and after some searching found a very old and innocent looking carabao bull in the last stages of dissolution, with half a dozen bullet holes in him. The men of this outpost had to stand considerable chaffing from their comrades the next day. But they were at least entitled to credit for good shooting.

The next morning, the 26th, an adjustment of the line made it necessary for us to move half a mile up the river, and a little before noon the march was resumed, this time in a westerly direction along a wagon road leading from the Novaliches ford across the Tuliajan toward the town of Malinta. We were still in rather close woods. The Third Artillery had the advance, and we followed. We could hear heavy firing toward Malinta, and knew that Wheaton's brigade was shoving the enemy out of the trenches near there. It was evident from the amount of firing that the fight