Everywhere were abundant evidences that the war was on.
This left little for us to do at the moment except to inform ourselves as to conditions, especially as Colonel Denby had not yet arrived, and General Otis was overwhelmed with work and anxiety.
I renewed my acquaintance with many old Filipino and Spanish friends and improved the opportunity, not likely to recur in my experience, to see as much as possible of the fighting in the field.
One day when I was at San Pedro Macati, Captain Dyer, who commanded a battery of 3.2-inch guns there, suggested that if I wished to investigate the effect of shrapnel fire I could do so by visiting a place on a neighbouring hillside which he indicated.

Acting upon his suggestion, I set out, accompanied by my private secretary, who, like myself, was clad in white duck.

The Insurgent sharpshooters on the other side of the river devoted some attention to us, but we knew that so long as they aimed at us we were quite safe.

Few of their bullets came within hearing distance.
We were hunting about on the hillside for the place indicated by Captain Dyer, when suddenly we heard ourselves cursed loudly and fluently in extremely plain American, and there emerged from a neighbouring thicket a very angry infantry officer.

On venturing to inquire the cause of his most uncomplimentary remarks, I found that he was in command of skirmishers who were going through the brush to see whether there was anything left there which needed shooting up.