Summary

Portrait of Edward Stratemeyer Edward Stratemeyer The Campaign of the Jungle; Or…

The next half hour was one Ben never forgot. The rebels evidently thought they had the Americans at their mercy and pushed in closer and closer, until more than half of the contestants were fighting hand to hand. Many had exhausted their ammunition, and were using their bayonets or else handling their guns as clubs.
“Die!” cried one tall Tagal, as he flashed up before Ben with a bloody bolo. “Die!” he repeated in bad English, and made a lunge at the young captain. But Gilmore had his eye on the man, and the lieutenant’s sword cut the bolo from the rebel’s grasp.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Edward Stratemeyer Edward Stratemeyer The Campaign of the Jungle; Or…

Then came a volley of musketry, followed by a steady stream of shots.
“We’ve got them this time, boys!” came in a ringing, English-speaking voice. “Forward, and don’t let a man of them escape. On to San Isidro!”
“Our troops!” cried Larry. “Oh, God be praised that they are coming this way!”
“Yes, yes, our troops!” ejaculated Ben. “And what is more, my regiment!” The revulsion of feeling was so great that he felt like dancing a jig.
The shouting and firing now increased, until it was almost upon them.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Edward Stratemeyer Edward Stratemeyer The Campaign of the Jungle; Or…

The light of day seemed to die out utterly, and the air was filled with flying débris and screaming birds and wild animals made homeless on the instant. The very earth seemed to quake with the violence of the trees uprooted, and branches and dirt flew all over the Americans, until they were buried as completely as Ben and his companions had been. Larry thought it was indeed the end of the world, and breathed a silent prayer that God might watch over him and those he loved.
Source: Gutenberg

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