< Cbc Conservative *
LITTLE INCIDENTS OF A SIMMER
ING WAR.
[ Written for Tim Conservative by Lowin C.
Burnett' , Jr. ]
I pushed the high grass back , and
saw a little brown , half naked body
lying there before mo. The skin had
commenced to slip from the fast decomposing -
composing flesh. Big green bugs ,
with yellow stripes across their beetle
like wings , crawled slowly around , as
if warming themselves for the feast.
The face looked frightfully distorted
in the pale light of the coming day.
A rusty bolo knife lay near , beside
which rested a long bamboo canteen.
Viva Aguiualdo , was roughly cut in
the hard wood.
Viva Aguinaldo ! Long live our
leader !
The morning sun burst over the dis
tant mountain top. The rice fields
waved gently in the freshening breeze ,
beyond which loomed the cocoa palms
like ghostly sentinels , dim in the light
of the new morn.
A dirty rag lay upon the ground. 1
placed it over the still , bloated face
and then went on down the narrow
road between the tall bamboos. He
died for the cause he thought was
right.
I am going to tell you a short , broken
story of a few things I saw around
Tarlac , then the headquarters of the
Filipino insurrection : how I first
saw Agninaldo and his body guard.
Just little , but most peculiar , happen
ings , that one does not read in the
cable dispatches of a war. I was not
a soldier , nor did I have cause to take
part in any way. I merely tell you
these as seen with the eyes of a
civilian.
Jumped High in the Air and Fell Dead.
I heard a short chopping noise one
# morning , as if a cross-cut saw had
struck a knot. The rattle continued ,
and I recognized the voices of the 80-
calibres , barking from a distant rice
field. I hurried over the furrowed
ground , waded a little creek , pushed
iny way through a young bamboo
thicket , and came upon the firing line
of the 17th U. S. Infantry.
Through a wet cane patch many
small bodies were dodging , their red
trousers making fine targets for the
men in kakai brown. The way these
brave running soldiers crawled out of
their showy uniforms was a most
comical sight. They left a red trail
behind them , of cotton , not. of blood.
A man of the 4th Cavalry was ly
ing on his baok. There was an ugly
hole in his forehead , where a Reming
ton copper-covered ball had torn its
way through. I thought he was dead ,
and stood'looking down at him. Sud
denly he opened his eyes and said :
"Say , Bill , I have been in a good
many fights , and the niggers have
knocked the mud up in my face more
than once , but I guess they have got
me this time. "
I looked away to where a detach
ment of infantry was. gathering up
the dead and wounded natives. The
man was dead. An ambulance came
up and I saw the poor fellow , his feet
sticking out from the cot , as the wagon
rolled away.
A Filipino soldier had crawled
under wire fence to die. A Krag
bullet had struck him in the left side ,
leaving a little blue hole where it
entered. His head and feet were
sticking in the mud , while his back
was bowed up in a half circle. His
face was of a light green color ; fright
and pain were written there.
The troops marched [ into the cap
tured town. In the middle of the
plaza was a Catholic church. One of
Agninaldo's regulars ran in at the
west door and presently came out of
the other side of the building. Four
shots rang out. He dropped his gun ,
ran to the road , jumped high in the
air and fell dead.
He Said a Coward from Missouri.
It was a hot , sultry day ; pulling up
my pants , I waded across the creek.
An advance guard of infantry was in
front.
Bang , bang , bang-bang.
The mud flew up in their faces ,
while broken twigs from the limbs
overhead rattled on the ground. A
nice little ambush , but the Filipino
soldiers had been true to their princi
ples , in hitting everything but what
they shot at. No one was hurt , the
rear guard came running up , and the
entire force was ordered to drive the
enemy from its entrenchments.
One of the boys , a big fellow from
Missouri , would not move. He lay in
a buffalo wallow hugging the muddy
ground. A lieutenant took him by
the shoulder and pulled him on his
feet. The big soldier was so com
pletely unnerved that he could hardly
stand , while his knees kept beating a
wild tattoo.
The fight went on , the enemy was
easily routed. A man lay dead upon
the breastworks , a dark red spot was
slowly spreading on his blouse. I
went up to him it was the fellow
from Missouri , and the only man that
had been hit. Was ho a coward ?
the lieutenant said so , or was it
fright , brought on by a premonition
of what was to come ? Strange things
happen in this world of ours !
The Aftermath.
I was standing on the edge of a bam
boo thicket ; to my left , resting on
four short poles , was the . floor of a
native house , the upper portion had
been torn away. A wounded islander
lay upon the bamboo slats. A bullet
had gone through both knees , and an
*
other had opened up his right lung.
I made him as comfortable as I could ,
but he would not talk. Once ho said ,
"agua , " and I went down to the creek
and filled my hat with water. Ho
would have nothing else , and plainly
told me to' ' vamose. ' ' I passed that way
two days later. It was a glorious
evening , the sun was just going down
where the everlasting green of the
hills around seemed to break off into
the heavens.
I climbed over the tangled bamboos ,
the natives had dropped across the
road to hinder the progress of the
American troops. At last I reached
the half ruined house. There lay the
man that I had tried to help but a
few hours ago. The green flies were
gathering upon his bloated lips.
Such is war. Raw facts they are ,
but true as truth.itself.
A Mauser twanged near by , a
splinter from the pole against which
I was leaning went humming through
the air. A Filipino soldier ran from
the thicket and jumped across the
creek. He was not more than thirty
paces from me , and I could easily
have shot him with my revolver , but
then , I was not a soldier. I went
away , leaving him alone with his
empty rifle and his dead.
The Dead Prince of Bavaria.
"That's all I have got by which to
remember the Prince of Bavaria , "
said a white haired Englishman , as he
showed me two broken matches.
"Last spring when ho was accident
ally killed on the firing line , I was
with a company of the Oregon boys ,
and I saw him fall back into the door
way of a house. I helped one of the
surgeons carry him into the old mon
astery that had been turned into a hos
pital. A 45-70 ball had passed through
his body , ranging from the shoulder
downward , and killing him almost in
stantly. I was told to sign a paper as
a witness to his death , aui then I felt
in his pockets for something to re
member him by. These two broken
matches were all that I could find , but
you can rest assured that I will hang
onto them. The surgeon major told
me that , at some future time , I might
be called to Germany as a witness to
the death of the prince. I hope they
send for me ! Won't that be a great
trip ? "
I turned to my aged companion and
asked for a description of His High
ness.
"Well " said the "
, Englishman , "he
was not very good looking , had a long ,
sallow face and a heavy jaw. I should
judge he was about thirty years of
age. ' '
1' Goodbye , ' ' said my new friend a
half hour later , as ho turned off at a
cross road. ' ' Hope I see you again.
I know how it is to wish to look upon
the scenes of war. I ran .away from
