Stratemeyer Edward
The Campaign of the Jungle: or, Under Lawton through Luzon

PREFACE

“The Campaign of the Jungle” is a complete story in itself, but forms the fifth volume of the “Old Glory Series,” a line of tales depicting life and adventure in our army and navy of to-day.

The heroes of these various stories are the three Russell brothers, Larry, Walter, and Ben. In the first volume we told of Larry’s adventures while “Under Dewey at Manila,” in the second and fourth we followed Ben as “A Young Volunteer in Cuba” and during the opening campaign “Under Otis in the Philippines,” while in the third tale we saw what Walter could do “Fighting in Cuban Waters.”

In the present volume the reader is asked to follow the fortunes of both Larry and Ben in two important expeditions of that gallant soldier, General Henry W. Lawton, the first directed against Santa Cruz on the Laguna de Bay, where the insurgents were left badly scattered, and the second from Manila to San Isidro, a winding advance of about one hundred and fifty miles through the jungle, which took twenty days to complete, and during which time twenty-two battles were fought and twenty-eight towns were captured, along with large quantities of army stores and the like. This latter expedition was one of the most daring of its kind, and could not have been pushed to success had not the man at its head been what he was, a trained Indian fighter of our own West, and one whose nerve and courage were almost beyond comprehension. Small wonder it was that when, later on, General Lawton was killed on the firing line, General Otis cabled, “Great loss to us and to his country.”

As in the previous volumes of this series, the author has endeavored to be as accurate, historically, as possible, and for this reason has examined the reports of the officers high in command, as well as listened to many tales related by the returning soldiers themselves. It is therefore hoped that if any errors have crept in they may not be of sufficient magnitude to hurt the general usefulness of the work from an historical standpoint. As a story of adventure, the writer trusts it will find equal favor with those that have preceded it in the series.

EDWARD STRATEMEYER.

Newark, N. J.,

March 1, 1900.

CHAPTER I
DISMAYING NEWS

“How are you feeling to-day, Ben?”

“Fairly good, Larry. If it wasn’t for this awfully hot weather, the wound wouldn’t bother me at all. The doctor says that if I continue to improve as I have, I can rejoin my company by the middle of next week.”

“You mustn’t hurry matters. You did enough fighting at Caloocan, Malabon, Polo, and here, to last you for some time. Let the other fellows have a share of it.” And Larry Russell smiled grimly as he bent over his elder brother and grasped the hand that was thrust forward.

“I am willing the other fellows should have their share of the fighting, Larry. But you must remember that now Captain Larchmore is dead, and Lieutenant Ross is down with the fever, there is nobody to command our company but me – unless, of course, Sergeant Gilmore takes charge.”

“Then let Gilmore play captain for a while, while you take the rest you have so well earned. Why, you’ve been working like a steam-engine ever since you landed in Luzon. Gilbert Pennington says he never dreamed there was so much fight in you, and predicts that you’ll come out a brigadier general by the time Aguinaldo and his army are defeated.”

“Well, I believe in pushing things,” responded Ben Russell, smiling more broadly than ever, as his mind wandered back to that fierce attack on Malolos, where he had received the bullet wound in the side. “If we can only keep the insurgents on the run, we’ll soon make them throw down their arms. But tell me about yourself, Larry. What have you been doing since you were up here last?”

“Oh, I’ve been putting in most of my time on board the Olympia, as usual,” replied the young tar. “About all we are doing is to nose around any strange vessels that come into the harbor. Since the outbreak in Manila last February, the navy has had next to nothing to do, and I’m thinking strongly of asking to be transferred to the marines at Cavite, or elsewhere.”

“I don’t blame you.” Ben Russell paused. “Have you heard anything more about Braxton Bogg and that hundred and forty thousand dollars he said he had left hidden in Benedicto Lupez’s house in Manila?”

A shade of anxiety crossed Larry Russell’s face. “Yes, I’ve heard a good deal – more than I wanted to, Ben. But I wasn’t going to speak of it, for fear of adding to your worry and making you feel worse.”

“Why, Larry, you don’t mean – Has Braxton Bogg escaped from jail and got hold of the money again?”

“No, Braxton Bogg is still in prison at Manila, although the Buffalo bank officials are about to have him returned to the United States for trial. But the money has disappeared. The police authorities at Manila went to Benedicto Lupez’s house, to find it locked up and deserted. They broke in and made a search, but they couldn’t find a dollar, either in Spanish or American money, although they did find Braxton Bogg’s valise and a dozen or more printed bands of the Hearthstone Saving Institution – the kind of bands they put around five-hundred-dollar and one-thousand-dollar packages of bills.”

“Then this Spaniard found where Bogg had hidden the money and made off with it?”

“That is the supposition; and I reckon it’s about right, too. Of course, it may be possible that Braxton Bogg never left the stolen money in Lupez’s house, although he swears he did. He says Lupez was an old friend of his and was going to have the bills changed into Spanish money for him, so that Bogg could use the cash without being suspected of any wrong-doing.”

“It’s too bad; and just as we thought our fifteen or sixteen thousand dollars of the amount was safe. I wonder what the bank people at home will say now.”

“Of course, they won’t like it. They would rather have the money than their missing cashier; and I would rather have the money, too – not but that Braxton Bogg ought to be punished for his crimes.”

“Yes, Larry, Braxton Bogg deserves all the law can give him, for the depositors in the Hearthstone Saving Institution were mostly poor, hard-working persons, and the wrecking of the bank meant untold hardships for them.” The wounded brother sighed deeply. “If that money isn’t recovered, we’ll be as badly off as we were when we first came to Manila,” he concluded.

Ben Russell was the eldest of three brothers, Walter coming next, and Larry being the youngest. They were orphans, and at the death of their widowed mother had been left in the care of their uncle, Job Dowling, a miserly man whose chief aim in life had been to hoard money, no matter at what cost, so long as his method was within the limit of the law.

The boys were all sturdy and had been used to a good home, and Job Cowling’s harsh and dictatorial manner cut them to the quick. A clash between guardian and wards had resulted in the running away of the three youths, and the guardian had tried in vain to bring them back. Larry had drifted to San Francisco and shipped on a merchantman bound for China. He had become a castaway and been picked up by the Asiatic Squadron of the United States Navy. This was just at the time of the outbreak of the war with Spain, and how gallantly the young tar served his country has already been told in detail in “Under Dewey at Manila.”

Ben had found his way to New York, and Walter had drifted to Boston. After several adventures, the war fever had caught both, and Ben had joined the army to become “A Young Volunteer in Cuba,” as already related in the volume of that name, while Walter had joined the armored cruiser Brooklyn and participated in the destruction of the Spanish fleet in Santiago Bay, as told in “Fighting in Cuban Waters.”

While the three boys were away from home, Job Dowling had overreached himself by trying to sell some of the Russell heirlooms which it had been willed the lads should keep. The heirlooms had been stolen by a sharper, and it had cost the old man a neat sum of money to get them back. The experience made him both a sadder and a wiser man, and from that time on his manner changed, and when the boys returned from the war they found that he had turned over a new leaf. In the future he was perfectly willing that they should “do fer themselves,” as he expressed it.

After a brief stay in Buffalo, Walter had left, to rejoin the Brooklyn, which was bound for a cruise to Jamaica and elsewhere. At this time trouble began to break out between the United States troops in the Philippines and the insurgents who had been fighting the now-conquered Spaniards, and it looked as if another fair-sized war was at hand. This being so, Ben lost no time in reënlisting in the army, while Larry hastened to join Admiral Dewey’s flagship Olympia once more. “If there’s to be any more fighting, I want to be right in it,” was what the young tar said, and Ben agreed with him. How they journeyed to Manila by way of the Mediterranean, the Suez Canal, and the Indian Ocean, has already been related in “Under Otis in the Philippines.” Ben was at this time second lieutenant of Company D of his regiment. With the two boys went Gilbert Pennington, Ben’s old friend of the Rough Riders, who was now first sergeant of Company B of the same regiment, and half a dozen others who had fought with the young volunteer in Cuba. On arriving at Manila Larry found matters, so far as it concerned his ship, very quiet, but Ben was at once sent to the front, and participated with much honor to himself in the campaign which led to the fall of Malolos, a city that was at that time the rebel capital. As Company D, with Ben at its head as acting captain, had rushed down the main street of the place, an insurgent sharpshooter had hit the young commander in the side, and he had fallen, to be picked up later and placed in the temporary hospital which was opened up in Malolos as soon as it was made certain that the rebels had been thoroughly cleaned out. Fortunately for the young volunteer the wound, though painful, was not serious.

Of the fifteen thousand to twenty thousand dollars coming to the Russell brothers, more than three-quarters had been invested by Job Dowling in the Heathstone Saving Institution, a Buffalo bank that had promised the close-minded man a large rate of interest. The cashier of this bank, Braxton Bogg, had absconded, taking with him all the available cash which the institution possessed. Bogg had come to Manila, and there Ben had fallen in with him several times and finally accomplished his arrest. It was found that Braxton Bogg had very little money on his person, and the guilty cashier finally admitted that he had left his booty at the house of one Benedicto Lupez, a Spaniard with whom he had boarded. As all the Spaniards in Manila were being closely watched by the soldiers doing police duty in the disturbed city, both Ben and Larry had supposed that there would be no further trouble in getting possession of the missing money. But Benedicto Lupez had slipped away unperceived, taking the stolen money with him, and the Russell inheritance – or at least the larger portion of it – was as far out of the reach of the boys as ever.

CHAPTER II
SOMETHING ABOUT THE SITUATION AT MALOLOS

“Do you know if the Manila authorities have any idea where this Benedicto Lupez has gone to?” asked Ben, after partaking of some delicacies which Larry had managed to obtain for him.

“They think he got on a small boat and went up the Pasig River. He is supposed to have a brother living in Santa Cruz on the Laguna de Bay. This brother is said to be in thorough sympathy with the insurgents.”

“In that case he is out of our reach for the present, as the rebels, so I understand, have a pretty good force in and around Santa Cruz. But if this Lupez has the money, I can’t understand how he would join the rebels. They’ll try to get the cash from him, if they need it.”

“Perhaps he is foolish enough to think that they will win out in this fight, Ben. You know how hot-headed some of these people are. They haven’t any idea of the real power of Uncle Sam. I believe if they did know, they would submit without another encounter.”

“It would be best if they did, Larry, for now that we are in this fight we are bound to make them yield. Once they throw down their arms, I feel certain our country will do what is fair and honest by them.”

“It’s the leaders who are urging the ignorant common people on – I’ve heard more than one of the officers say so. The leaders are well educated and crafty, and they can make the masses believe almost anything. Why, just before I came away from Manila I saw a dozen or more Igorottes brought in – tall, strapping fellows, but as ignorant as so many children. They seemed to be dazed when their wounds were cared for and they were offered food. The interpreter said they thought they would be massacred on the spot by the bloodthirsty Americanos, and they had a lurking suspicion that they were being cared for just so they could be sold into slavery.”

At this juncture a tall, thoroughly browned soldier came in, wearing the uniform of a first lieutenant.

“Well, Ben, how is it to-day,” he said cheerily, as he extended his hand. “And how are you, Larry?” And he likewise shook hands with the young tar.

“I’m hoping to get out soon, Gilbert,” answered Ben. “But what’s this – a lieutenant’s uniform?”

“Yes, I’ve been promoted to first lieutenant of Company B,” returned Gilbert Pennington. “I tell you, we are all climbing up the ladder, and Larry must look to his laurels. I understand you are to be made permanent captain of Company D.”

“But where is First Lieutenant Crunger of your company?”

“Disappeared,” and the young Southerner’s face took on a sober look. “That’s the only thing that mars my happiness over my promotion. After the taking of Malolos, Jack Crunger disappeared utterly, and we haven’t been able to find hide nor hair of him, although half a dozen scouting parties have been sent out and the stream has been dragged in several places.”

“Perhaps he was taken prisoner,” suggested Larry. “I heard some of the Kansas and Utah men were missing, too.”

“We are afraid he is a prisoner, and if that is so, Aguinaldo’s men have probably taken him up to San Fernando, where the insurgents are setting up their new capital.”

“And what is going on at the firing line?” asked Ben, eagerly. “Are they following up the rebels’ retreat?”

“I’m sorry to say no. General MacArthur made a reconnaissance in the direction of Calumpit, but it amounted to little.”

“I understand that the Charleston has sailed up the coast and is going to shell Dagupan,” put in Larry. “Dagupan, you know, is the terminus of the railroad line.”

“That’s good,” came from the sick brother. “If we can get a footing in Dagupan, we can work the railroad territory from both ends.” But this was not to be, as coming events speedily proved, for the shelling of the city by the warship amounted to but little.

Gilbert Pennington knew all about the Braxton Bogg affair and listened with interest to what Larry had to relate.

“It’s too bad,” he declared. “I’d like to give you some hope, boys, but I’m afraid you’ll have to whistle for your fortune. That Spaniard will keep out of the reach of the Americans, and if the worst comes to the worst, he’ll slip off to Spain or South America; you mark my words.”

Larry’s leave of absence was for forty-eight hours only, and soon he was forced to bid his brother and his friend good-by. “Now take good care of yourself, Ben,” he said, on parting. “And do stay here until you are stronger. Remember that a wounded man can’t stand this broiling sun half as well as one who isn’t wounded, and even the strongest of them are suffering awfully from the heat.”

“I’ll make him stay,” put in Gilbert, with mock severity. “Surgeon Fallox won’t give him clearance papers until I tell him, for he’s a great friend of mine.”

“I’m going to have a word with Stummer before I go,” added Larry, and hurried to the ward in which the sturdy German volunteer had been placed. He found the member of Ben’s company propped up on some grass pillows, smoking his favorite brier-root pipe.

“Sure, an’ I vos glad to see you, Larry,” cried Carl, his round face broadening into a smile on beholding his visitor. “Yah, I vos doin’ putty goot, und I peen out on der firin’ line next veek maype. But say, I vos sorry I peen shot town pefore we got to Malolos. I vos dink sure I help clean dose repels out.”

“Never mind, you did your duty, Carl. I’ve heard they are going to make you a corporal for your bravery.”

“Sure, an’ that’s right,” came in an Irish voice behind the pair, and Dan Casey, another volunteer of Ben’s company, appeared. “It’s mesilf as has the honor av saying it first, too, Carl. You are to be first corporal, Carl, wid meself doin’ juty as second corporal.”

The German volunteer’s face lit up for a second, then fell suspiciously. “Say, Dan, vos dis a choke maype?” he said slowly.

“A joke, is it?” burst out Casey. “Sure, an’ do ye think I’d be afther playin’ a joke on a wounded man, Carl? No, it’s no joke. We’re raised to the dignity av officers be the forchunes av war an’ the recommendations av our superior, Actin’ Captain Russell, which same will soon be our captain be commission, Providence an’ the President willin’.”

“Good for Ben!” exclaimed Larry. “You both deserve it.” And after a few words more he hurried off, leaving the two old soldiers to congratulate themselves on their advancement and speculate upon how high they might rise in the service before the rebellion should close. Casey had his eye set on a captaincy, but Stummer said he would be quite content if any commissioned office came his way, even if it was but a second-lieutenancy.

Malolos had been captured on Friday, March 31, 1899, at a little after ten o’clock in the morning, although the fighting kept up until nearly nightfall. As soon as the rebels were thoroughly cleaned out, many of the soldiers were called upon to do duty as firemen, for a large portion of the town was in flames. While the fire was being put out, other soldiers went about stopping the Chinese from looting the deserted mansions. The coolies were at first made prisoners and put under guard in the public park, but later on they were released and set to work to clean the streets.

As Gilbert had said, the days immediately following the fall of Malolos were not of special activity. The hard, running fight along the railroad through Caloocan, Polo, and other places, had all but exhausted the army under General MacArthur, and when the insurgents’ capital was taken, it was felt that the soldiers had earned a well-needed rest. Moreover, many had been wounded and many more were down, suffering from the heat and tropical fever, and these had to be cared for in the temporary hospitals established at various points in the neighborhood. In the meantime the railroad was repaired and Malolos was made a new base for supplies. There were several skirmishes in the neighborhood north and northeast of Malolos, and in these the rebels were compelled to fall back still further, yet the outbreaks amounted to but little.

In the meantime, the Philippine Commission of the United States issued a proclamation, translated into the Spanish and Tagalog languages, calling upon the insurgents to throw down their arms and promising them good local government, the immediate opening of schools and courts of law, the building of railroads, and a civil service administration in which the native should participate. This proclamation was widely distributed, yet it did little good; for the common people of the islands were given to understand by their leaders that the Americans did not mean what they said, but had come to their country only to plunder them, and would in the end treat them even worse than had the Spaniards.

It was no easy work to repair the railroad running from Manila to Malolos Station, which was some distance from the town proper. All tools and equipments had to be brought up from Manila and from Cavite, and soon the engineering corps found themselves harassed by some rebels in the vicinity of Marilao and Guiguinto. At once General MacArthur sent out a force to clear the ground, and several sharp attacks ensued, which resulted in the loss of twenty-three killed and wounded on the American side, and double that number to the enemy. In the end the rebels fled to the mountains to the eastward and to Calumpit on the north.

“We are going out to-morrow,” said Gilbert, as he came to see Ben on the day following the engagements just mentioned. “General Wheaton says he is going to drive the rebels straight into the mountains – and I reckon he’ll keep his word.”

Ben was at once anxious to go along, but this was not yet to be, and he was forced to sit at a window of the hospital and see his regiment march by with colors flying gayly and all “the boys” eager for another contest. The members of his own company gave him a cheer as they passed. “You’ll soon be with us again, captain,” cried one. “We won’t forget you! Hurrah!” and on they marched, with a lieutenant from Company A leading them, and with Gilbert and Major Morris and many old friends with the regiment. Ben watched them out of sight, and heaved a long sigh over the fact that he was not of their number. But there was still plenty of fighting in store for the young captain, and many thrilling and bitter experiences in the bargain.