lainly be seen, throwing up extra intrenchments.

It was now two o'clock and the real work was about to begin.

Companies "E" and "F" started straight down the Binidayan hill in the
direction of Pandapatan, while "B" Company was sent to the right.

After the Infantry had crossed the little valley in front, the Artillery
opened up and the big fight was on.

THE REAL BATTLE BEGINS.

The shell and shrapnel flew fast and furious from those little mountain
guns, accompanied by the music of the "Krags."

On and on, nearer and nearer up the hillside came the crash of advancing
troops, smothering other unseen trenches on their way, until by
nightfall there was not a rifle but could shove its muzzle into the very
face of the trench behind which the Moro warriors laid in waiting,
peering down the slope between the explosions for something they feared
more than the whistling fragments of Krupp shells--the blue-shirted form
of the silent American soldier, with whom the Moros knew the ultimate
issue rested.

EXCEPTIONAL COURAGE.

On they came, however, up the hill, silent and straight, hundreds of
them, right into the open below the trench from behind which the Moros
delivered a withering fire and gasped at the folly of the Americans.

Up and up they came, the lower lantacas blasting them off the face of
the earth, but still they rushed on and upward against the frowning
walls.

The mountain guns howled and roared over them, the walls grew troubled
and shaky, falling in and falling out, dimly seen between the curtain of
smoke and sheet of flame whirling about the leaping stones.

But steady eyes were gleaming where they could through the sheets of
fire, and steady fingers were pulling triggers rapidly and incessantly.

The crash came unbroken and clearly heard from the midst of the uproar
thundering up at the trench, as if the shells were bursting with a
million rattling fragments, and down the slope were tumbling the
blue-shirted figures, one under that tree, two over there by the big
boulder, another here and a dozen more down there, and during the next
two hours there was the most magnificent display of true courage and
grit ever heard of or seen.

The Artillery roared in anger and anguish, but apparently of no avail,
for the long streams of fire continued to pour from the fort with
regular intervals, and more blue-shirted figures went tumbling down the
hill.

But this did not continue very long, for the Arti