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"Did Hakkut himself come to see you, Mr. Seaforth?" inquired the young lieutenant. "Hakkut? I've never seen the fellow, nor has any other white man around here, so far as I know." "Then he sends a regular collector for the money?" "Yes. He has a new collector this year." "A Moro?" "The fellow looks to me more like a Tagalo. He's a sharp, keen, little business man of his peculiar type."
Do either of you guess it?" "I think I do, sir," replied Lieutenant Prescott, after a pause. "Very good, Mr. Prescott. What is my reason?" "You were sent out, sir, to meet Datto Hakkut, fight him and disperse his forces." "Exactly," nodded the captain. "This hill, sir, will be a hard nut for the brown men to crack.
Only a spark is needed, or maybe only a secret word from the datto, and two or three hundred ugly fellows here in Bantoc will try to get the upper hand, or else take to the brush with Hakkut." "We're going to have a warm time here before we're through, I think," replied Sergeant Hal, with a shake of his head.
Hertford and Sanderson, attended only by a small party of natives, had gone into the mountains to gather their specimens. Since then nothing had been heard of the two enthusiastic young scientists until Sentry Miggs had stumbled upon his gruesome find. The soldiers discussed little else that morning. "Of course it was the old brown rascal, Hakkut, who had the young scientific gentlemen killed.
Now, though I shall take pains to be sure that the Moros remain in this neighborhood, I shall not force any very hard fighting for two or three days. Our rations will last longer than that, with care. After I've given Hakkut time enough to get his whole crew together then I shall go after them as hard as I can considering the size of this force.
"Corporal, I went south in the island to pick up some laborers from the Manobo tribe. I got forty together and was on my way through this country, not knowing that the Moros were out. So we were caught, this afternoon, and taken before the Datto Hakkut. He ordered us into his ranks to fight. We demurred, and four of my fellows were cut down before my eyes. Then we accepted arms.
Didn't Hakkut have his card tied to each head?" demanded Private Kelly, who was the centre of a group of enlisted men. The group of officers over in Captain Cortland's office had come to the same conclusion. "It is the old brown scoundrel's way of showing us his defiance," declared Captain Cortland in a shocked voice.
"The Datto Hakkut, however, has been doing business here on Mindanao since before the Spaniards left, and my opinion is that he will do business as long as he lives. This fellow Hakkut is a wily old scoundrel, who often falls into traps set for him by our soldiers. Yet, just when the soldiers are about to close the trap, they find that Hakkut isn't there. His escapes are marvelous."
Instantly the datto turned and shouted something to the younger man with him. In another moment the datto had placed the hilt of his sword against the flooring of the porch, the point of the weapon up. The younger man knelt swiftly, holding the sword in this position. Drawing back, the Datto Hakkut hurled himself forward with great force, falling upon the point.
"Because I was in hopes that before we get through with this expedition, sir, we'd find a chance to make Datto Hakkut and his men salute the American Flag." "Bring the Flag here, Sergeant." Hal brought it, and its tattered folds were so laid that some remnant of the bunting touched each of the five bodies of the slain soldiers.
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