"We've had the bit of a nap," replied Kelly. An hour later Lieutenant Prescott again approached Sergeant Hal. "Count off your twenty men, Sergeant. Line 'em up for instruction. I'm going to send you over yonder, now, to make that scouting reconnaissance. Don't fall into any traps, Sergeant." Hal quickly detailed his men, ordering them to fall in. "Why am I not picked, Sarge?" whispered Kelly. "Man, you've done enough." Lieutenant Prescott's instructions were few, though to the point. Then, in line of skirmishers, Sergeant Hal Overton ordered his men forward. Over the trench they went, then advanced steadily toward the woods from which had come the rush of the night before. Those left behind watched anxiously. Would the issue mean another savage fight--or what? CHAPTER XVI DATTO HAKKUT MAKES A NEW MOVE To the civilian mind, being sent forward purposely to draw the enemy's fire, looks like "ticklish" business. Yet it is better to risk a few men rather than sacrifice many. It is on the same principle that a "point" of several men is always sent in advance of the larger body when moving supposedly in the face of the enemy. The "point" often draws disastrous fire upon itself, but the larger body of troops is saved from catastrophe. The soldier accepts calmly this work of going out ahead to draw a possible enemy's fire. It's "all in the game," as he understands it. Of course, when troops are sent out only for the purpose of drawing fire, these troops withdraw, if necessary, as soon as they attract the enemy's fire to themselves, and thus locate the enemy. Sergeant Hal Overton kept at the right of his thin, sparse line of men as they moved forward. Every man had his eyes ahead; each was watching for the first sign of trouble. When the line had reached a plane within a hundred yards of the edge of the woods the soldiers expected, momentarily, to hear the signal shot, then the first scattering shots, followed by the heavy, crashing volleys. Yet they passed this point safely and went on. The edge of the woods was gained, still without provoking hostile shots. It would have looked to one untrained in the art of war as though there were no enemy there. But this handful of soldiers knew better than to jump at any such conclusion. The Moros, like the Tagalos and Pampangos, are fond of getting an enemy at close quarters, and then leaping on him with cold steel. The Tagalo or Pampango fights with the bolo, the Moro often with the creese, and with all these brown-skinned men the game is the same--to leap up unexpectedly, from the tall grass, before the soldier has had time to throw himself on his guard. A swift, short-armed cutting movement--a mere slash, delivered with muscular effort, and the soldier is gashed across the abdomen. After this cutting has been effectively delivered the white fighting man usually sinks down in a pool of his own blood, and his fighting days are likely to be over.