The “Mindinao” was now where the dapper little colonel had taken his involuntary bath. The river had become sensibly narrower and the shores more treacherously rocky. The captive suddenly turned and excitedly spoke to Major Lukban in the native language, his gaze meanwhile roving over the cliffs just visible ahead. Lukban gave Sydney the man’s words in Spanish: “He says the gunboat can pass through the cañon, but you must keep close to the left hand shore to avoid the huge rocks which the insurgents will hurl from the top of the stronghold.” Sydney’s heart beat faster. They had not as yet come in sight of the whirling maelstrom of water as it hurled itself through the narrow gorge, but the top of the cañon was in plain sight. One huge boulder dislodged from the heights, striking the deck of the “Mindinao,” could easily pierce her frail steel shell. “Will you go through on the gunboat, sir?” Sydney asked the general eagerly as the “Mindinao” rounded a bend in the river, and the muddy racing water loomed ahead straight as if nature had laid a ruler along its path. About a mile away the other end of the cañon appeared, a white streak of light between the sombre rocks. The general regarded him in surprise. “How would you expect me to go?” he asked, a twinkle appearing in his eyes for a fraction of a second. “I was thinking of the danger, sir,” the lad added hurriedly in apology. “They’ll probably throw rocks down on us.” “The commanding general cannot always be three miles in the rear,” the veteran replied, now smiling broadly. Sydney had sent word to the engine room that he desired all speed possible and despite the current against them, the wooded shores were passed quickly. “To your guns,” he called in a clear voice without a note of excitement. “Major,” he added turning to the adjutant-general, “some of your best shots might take station to pick off the enemy on the cliffs. Those on this end I hope will be Phil and his friendly natives.” He turned suddenly pale as the possibility occurred to him of shelling his own people. The gunboat sped swiftly toward the cañon. Through glasses the jagged rocks at the top could be seen covered with a curious crowd of natives. Several sharp reports came muffled to his ears. The soft coo of the alarm concha vibrated above the stillness. He called his three gun-pointers up on the bridge and cautioned them with painstaking care of their important duty. “Shoot at the middle and the left; Captain Perry is on that mountain and I hope at this end. All three will fire together and I will control from here.” The men listened gravely and returned to their guns. “Load,” Sydney ordered harshly. The breech-blocks clicked shut and the crew stood expectantly alert. The soldiers, unaccustomed to artillery, unconsciously edged away from the three bow guns. “Set your sights at 1,500 yards,” Sydney directed, at the same time giving a signal to the helmsman to hold the ship steady on her course.