of them--buzzed
busily about, seeking whom they might devour! The mosquito of the
Philippines is well entitled to be called an insect of prey. He is a big
fellow, tireless, always hungry and a valiant fighter. The men who lay
on the ground carefully wrapped themselves in their blankets, with their
hands tucked in. Their heads and necks were protected by collapsible
nets that they had taken from their haversacks.

For those who were up and on duty the torment of the flying pests was
acute. There was little danger of a sentry going to sleep without a head
net and some protection for his hands.

"Ain't it awful, Sarge?" demanded Private Bender, as Hal paused near
him.

"That word isn't strong enough," grinned Hal ruefully, as he "swatted"
at mosquitoes three times in quick succession.

"I don't mind the Moros," continued Bender, "and I try to be a good
soldier, but I'm afraid I'd surrender to the 'skeets' if they had
intelligence enough to recognize the white flag."

"We get only two years of this at a time," laughed Sergeant Hal. "Then
we can go back to the United States for a vacation."

"I used to think, back in God's country, that a soldier's day and night
were full of work," remarked Bender wistfully; "but I'd rather go back
there and go to work than have to stand these 'skeets.'"

"They're not so bad in barracks," Hal answered. "It's only in the field
that the pests can torment us like this."

"From present signs," commented Private Bender, "I'm thinking that we'll
put in a large part of our two years in the field. These Moros are ugly
and determined when they get started."

"They're not bothering us much just now," replied Hal, as he started on
his round of inspection.

Nine o'clock came and passed. Not a shot had been fired since late in
the afternoon. Nor had there been any sound to indicate that Kelly or
Slosson had encountered trouble near the plantation. Now that he was in
command, Overton did not allow himself to be lulled into indifference by
the stillness of the dark night. A sleeping volcano might start into
eruption at any moment. At every important point along the trenches Hal
paused, using the night glass that the lieutenant had loaned him.

Ten o'clock came and passed without trouble. Then eleven and finally
midnight passed. Sergeant Hal, however, was not to be caught napping. He
resolved to be vigilant until Lieutenant Prescott relieved him.

Hal had just glanced again at his watch, noti