et unhurt. With this I struck the man a
blow in the abdomen, and quickly followed it with another. It was
evident that he was weakening. He again made a desperate effort to
free the hand which held the bolo, but my endeavor to keep him from
succeeding was greater. I drew back the right leg as far as I could,
doubled up the knee, and, with all the strength that I possessed,
drove it again into his abdomen.

The effect was marvelous; his muscles relaxed, his struggles grew
feeble, and his breathing was badly interrupted. This was the decisive
part of the fight, and I grasped the opportunity. With all my might
I threw him from me. He fell among the bushes, and was lost in the
blinding darkness. I drew my revolver from the scabbard, and fired
in the direction in which I had thrown him. This shot was answered
by a cry which told me he had been hit.

At this moment I heard the twigs breaking and the leaves rustling
behind me. Like a flash I faced about and fired at the approaching
figures--my assailant's fellow-bolomen. The effect of the shot was
to cause a heavy rustling and the sound of many feet in rapid retreat.

I had been careless enough to come into this jungle with but two loads
in my revolver, and these had been fired. When I began to reload,
my right foot gave way and I fell. Lying on the ground, I loaded and
fired again. The groans of my wounded enemy were getting farther away,
and the sounds finally died in the direction of the Filipino line.

I hobbled to my nearest outpost, where one of the men bound my wounds,
and later I received the attention of a medical officer. I believe
myself to be the first American soldier to live to tell the tale of
his fight with bolomen.--_From Youth's Companion of February 1, 1900_.

"CARABAO BILL."

A Midnight Reconnaissance in the Philippines.

"Carabao Bill," from his dress and manner, might be said to be a
typical United States Army officer. His figure would probably fall
short of the standard, but he was no less strong and healthy than his
brother knights of the sword. His strength was more to be compared to
that patient animal after which he was nick-named, the mighty carabao,
but he lacked the grace of form and dignity of bearing that the average
wearer of shoulder-straps in Uncle Sam's army is supposed to possess.

The soldiers said he waltzed like a cow and walked like a camel--moving
one corner at a time--which was indeed a graphic way of describing
h