Lieutenant Gilmore was firing his revolver. He decided to change and use one of the dead men's rifles. As he picked it up he noticed the lock had been struck by a Remington ball and the clip had been jammed in. He handed it to an apprentice lad, named Venville, to be fixed. The boy had scarcely begun to examine the gun, when a bullet struck him in the fleshy part of the neck. He had never been under fire before. Looking up calmly, he said, "Mr. Gilmore, I'm hit." In a moment another bullet struck him in the chest and came out of his arm pit. With his attention riveted on his task, he remarked, "I'm hit again, Mr. Gilmore." Only a moment later another ball grazed the side of his head and cut a painful wound in his scalp. "Mr. Gilmore, they've hit me again," he muttered, while he kept on working at the gun, with blood running down all over him. In a few minutes a fourth ball passed through the lad's ankle, one of the most painful parts of the body in which to get shot. This time, with a slight tremble in his voice, he said, "Mr. Gilmore, I'm hit once more; but I've fixed your gun, Sir." Just at this moment the Filipinos saw that the Americans' fire had practically ceased. Throwing back from off their trench the limbs and underbrush that had concealed them, the Filipinos, armed with guns, spears, bolos and clubs, made a bold dash for the boat and captured the entire crew. CHAPTER IX. THE AMERICAN PRISONERS Those of the Americans who were alive and able to help themselves were ordered to go ashore on the sand bar, where the Filipinos robbed them of their personal effects and then lined them up preparatory to shooting them all down in a body. Gilmore, being an officer, protested against having his hands tied. He claimed, according to the accepted rules of warfare, that on account of his rank he had a right to die honorably with his hands free. The Filipinos have great superstitions about "rank" in military affairs. Marie knew the significance of Gilmore's request; she respected it. The Filipinos had loaded their rifles, cocked them, raised the same to their shoulders, had taken aim, and Marie was about to give the fatal command, "Fire!", when a shout from the bank stopped her and for a moment engaged the attention of both the Americans and the Filipinos. It came from a Filipino officer, running down to the shore. He ordered them to stop. One second longer would have been too late. This Tagalo officer ordered the Americans to get back into their boat and to row across to the opposite shore. After bailing the water out of the boat and plugging up the holes in it made by the enemy's rifle balls, they obeyed his command. When they went ashore, Lieutenant Gilmore asked permission to bury his dead comrades. This privilege was emphatically denied. What was done with their bodies by the Filipinos is hard to tell, but in all probability, as was customary with the natives, they cut them into fragments and threw them away.