The last boat load of fruit had been sent off to the “Sitka” when the English lieutenant in command of the expedition formed his column for the return march. “The king of France marched up the hill and then marched down again,” he laughed as he gave the command to set the column in motion. Lieutenant Tupper was in the lead. The road stretched along the seashore, winding in and out in conforming to the irregularities of the beach. “I say,” Lieutenant Tupper suddenly exclaimed, “isn’t that road to the left a short cut?” He took out a small pocket chart and consulted it. Then he glanced out to the “Sitka,” which had gotten under way and was following, as before, just beyond the surf on the outer reef. “It will save us nearly a mile, and is shady, all the way, through cocoanut groves.” His mind was made up without more ado, and the head of the column wheeled to the left away from the sea and their supporting war-ship and took the trail leading through the woods. “Anybody got any wire cutters?” O’Neil asked Phil, who was walking at his side. “Look, sir, both sides barbed wire. Nasty thing to get through in a hurry.” Phil saw that on each side of the road ran a substantially built fence of barbed wire as high as a man’s head. The woods here were not very thick. Cocoanut and other trees were plentifully mixed. They had now reached the top of a rise. The road from there led down and at the bottom a small, swift stream would have to be forded. The machine gun was being dragged by its crew between the two companies of sailors. As the head of the column entered the stream it was found that the water was deeper than where it had been crossed nearer its mouth. Phil and Sydney were told to warn the machine gun’s crew, and have the rear company give aid if they needed it to get the gun across safely. The midshipmen left the head of the column just as it was on the point of entering the mountain stream. Phil looked behind as they ran rapidly back toward the machine gun. “The water’s above the men’s waists,” he exclaimed. Lieutenant Morrison was waiting at the machine gun when Phil arrived to tell him of the depth of the stream which they were about to cross. “Childers,” the lieutenant said quietly to the gunner’s mate in charge of the delicate weapon, “better dismount the gun and have it carried across by hand. We cannot afford to run the risk of getting the mechanism wet.” He looked about him and Phil read apprehension in his eyes. “I think it would have been wiser to have returned by the beach road,” he added uncomplainingly, but Phil thought only too truly. “Aye, aye, sir,” Childers replied, and as the gun carriage was brought to a stop four men picked up the gun, raising it upon their shoulders. Childers removed the breech mechanism for fear it would fall out. The men with the gun on their shoulders waded into the icy cold water.