"It looks some grim," Sergeant Terry admitted, wrapping his left hand where a creese had made a gash. "But what are we here for, and why are we soldiers, if this sort of thing doesn't appeal to us?" "I'm afraid you're hopelessly blood-thirsty," smiled Hal. "No; I'm not. I enlisted because I believed I'd like the soldier life, and fighting is the highest expression of the soldier's work." "Hello, there, 'Long'!" called Private Kelly. "Yes?" answered Private William Green, turning at the hail. "Did you bring along your kantab and pass plenty of it to the goo-goos?" "I'll make no money here," grunted William disdaining to answer Kelly's teasing question. "There's no chance to spend money here, so none of the fellows will borrow from me." "Making no money?" Kelly rebuked him. "Man, isn't your government pay running along, and ain't ye glad ye're here to be drawing it?" "I don't like this fighting business," grumbled Slosson. "Why not?" inquired Kelly in mild surprise. "In that hike I lost my pipe. Lucky for me I brought two more along in my pack. I'll get one of them out, now. Want the other, Kelly?" "I do not, lad, and my thanks to you. Slosson, I'm beginning to think we ought to force the brown men to accept pipes. If they smoked 'em the way you do yours there'd soon be fewer of the pesky brown goo-goos in this land." CHAPTER XX CORPORAL DUXBRIDGE'S MISTAKE Fortunately there was water, a clear, cool spring of it just below the trench line. As soon as the men were rested, Captain Freeman detailed a score of them to haul water up into camp. "Don't get into groups, you water carriers, either," Lieutenant Prescott called after the men as they started down the slope with buckets. "Keep apart. If you don't, some of the Moros in the distance will be taking pot-shots and getting some of you." The day wore on, and it looked as though the Moros were still running. "I'd hate to have to take ten men and fight all of the enemy who are within two thousand yards of here," declared Captain Freeman in the hearing of a large part of his command. "The datto has us all in a bunch and he'll hang to us until he has wiped us out." "I don't believe he can do it, sir," retorted Lieutenant Greg Holmes. "No; but the brown rascal thinks he can, which amounts to the same thing as far as he is concerned. Mr. Holmes, you may safely take my word for it that the datto has made up his own mind not to allow one of us ever to get back in safety to Bantoc." Late in the afternoon the five soldiers who had been slain were placed in a row at the top of the hill. "Too bad we haven't a Flag to drape the poor fellows with," said Captain Freeman sorrowfully. "We have a Flag with us, sir," spoke up Hal, saluting. "Where is it, Sergeant?" "In a small parcel in one of the ammunition wagons, sir." "How does it happen to be there, Sergeant?"