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Rh truly prisoners of the Filipinos. They were in rags, mostly barefooted, and their faces were pinched and full of misery. Each had his hands bound with strong cords and each was tied to another.

The prisoners were in charge of a party of twenty Filipinos—ten Tagals and ten Igorrotes, all well armed, the latter carrying bolos as well as guns. All were moving slowly, for two of the prisoners could not progress without limping painfully.

"Hurry, you pigs!" a Tagal would shout frequently, in his native tongue. "Hurry, or we'll shoot you down where you stand," and then for a moment the train would increase its speed. But the half-starved prisoners could not keep it up and soon relapsed into as slow a step as before. Then would follow blows and curses, in a manner that made the blood of both "Walter and Si run cold.

"This is awful!" whispered Walter, as he drew out of sight behind the rocks. "What shall we do?"

"I'd like to knock over some of those heathens!" burst out the Yankee lad. "If only we had our muskets!"

"We are only two to twenty, Si; we could do little against such a crowd."