



Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was
produced from scanned images of public domain material
from the Google Print project and the Internet Archive.)







                  The Woman with a Stone Heart

                A Romance of the Philippine War.

                               By

                  O. W. Coursey, (U. S. Vols.)

                           Author of

       "History and Geography of the Philippine Islands."
                  "Who's Who In South Dakota."
                 "Biography of General Beadle."
                      "School Law Digest."




        All of these books are published and for sale by
                  THE EDUCATOR SUPPLY COMPANY
                     Mitchell, South Dakota








                        Copyrighted 1914

                        By O. W. Coursey







THE WOMAN WITH A STONE HEART


INTRODUCTION


To those whose love of adventure would cause them to plunge head-long
into an abyss of vain glory, hoping at life's sunset to reap a
harvest contrary to the seed that were sown, let me suggest that
you pause first to read the story of "The Woman With a Stone Heart,"
Marie Sampalit, dare-devil of the Philippines.

Perhaps we might profitably meditate for a few moments on the musings
of Whittier:


            "The tissue of the life to be
            We weave in colors all our own,
            And in the field of destiny
            We'll reap as we have sown."

                                    --The Author.





DEDICATION


To Her, who, as a bride of only eighteen months, stood broken-hearted
on the depot platform and bade me a tearful farewell as our train of
soldier boys started to war; who later, while I was Ten Thousand miles
away from home on soldier duty in the Philippine Islands, became a
Mother; and who, unfortunately, three months thereafter, was called
upon to lay our first-born, Oliver D. Coursey, into his snow-lined
baby tomb amid the bleak silence of a cold winter's night, with no
strong arm to bear her up in those awful hours of anguish and despair,


My Soldier Wife, Julia,

this book is most affectionately dedicated.


                "Only a baby's grave,
                    Yet often we go and sit
                By the little stone,
                And thank God to own,
                    We are nearer heaven for it."

                                        --O. W. Coursey.






LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


                                               Page

            Marie Sampalit                       10
            Region Around Manila Bay             29
            Admiral Dewey                        39
            Aguinaldo                            61
            Marie, Her Mother, etc.              82
            Filipinos at Breakfast              100
            End of the Boat-Battle              113
            The Rescue                          126
            Floating Down The Rapids            129
            General Lawton and Staff            139





TABLE OF CONTENTS



        Chapters:                             Page

        I.      Love Defeated                     9
        II.     First Shot of A New War          25
        III.    Avenged Her Lover's Death        41
        IV.     The Interval                     57
        V.      Filipino Uprising                69
        VI.     As A Spy                         81
        VII.    Off For Baler                    93
        VIII.   The Gilmore Incident            105
        IX.     The American Prisoners          113
        X.      Death of General Lawton         131
        XI.     North-bound                     141
        XII.    Crossing the Sierra Madres      153
        XIII.   Compensation                    167






CHAPTER I.

LOVE DEFEATED


Marie Sampalit and her fiancee, Rolando Dimiguez, were walking
arm-in-arm along the sandy beach of Manila bay, just opposite old
Fort Malate, talking of their wedding day which had been postponed
because of the Filipino insurrection which was in progress.

The tide was out. A long waved line of sea-shells and drift-wood
marked the place to which it had risen the last time before it began
to recede. They were unconsciously following this line of ocean
debris. Occasionally Marie would stop to pick up a spotted shell
which was more pretty than the rest. Finally, when they had gotten
as far north as the semi-circular drive-way which extends around
the southern and eastern sides of the walled-city, or Old Manila,
as it is called, and had begun to veer toward it, Marie looked back
and repeated a beautiful memory gem taught to her by a good friar
when she was a pupil in one of the parochial schools of Manila:


            "E'en as the rise of the tide is told,
                By drift-wood on the beach,
            So can our pen mark on the page
                How high our thoughts can reach."


They turned directly east until they reached the low stone-wall that
prevents Manila bay from overflowing the city during the periods
of high tides. Dimiguez helped Marie to step upon it; then they
strolled eastward past the large stake which marked the place where
the Spaniards had shot Dr. Jose Rizal, the brainiest patriot ever
produced by the Malay race.

When they came to the spot, Marie stopped and told Dimiguez how she
had watched the shooting when it took place, and how bravely Rizal
had met his fate.

"If it hadn't been for this outrage committed by the Spaniards,"
remarked Dimiguez, "this insurrection would not have lasted these two
years, and we would have been married before now; but our people are
determined to seek revenge for his death."

Then they started on, changed their course to the northward, entered
the walled-city by the south gate, walked past the old Spanish arsenal,
and then passed out of the walled-city by the north gate. Here they
crossed the Pasig river on the old "Bridge of Spain" (the large
stone bridge near the mouth of the river, built over 300 years ago)
and entered the Escolta, the main business street of Manila. After
making their way slowly up the Escolta they meandered along San Miguel
street until they finally turned and walked a short distance down a
side street to a typical native shack, built of bamboo and thatched
with Nipa palms, happily tucked away beneath the overhanging limbs
of a large mango tree in a spacious yard,--the home of the Sampalits.

Here Marie had been born just seventeen years before; in fact the next
day, April 7, would be her seventeenth birthday. When she was born,
her father instituted one of the accustomed Filipino dances which last
from three to five days and nights, and at its conclusion she had been
christened "Maria," subsequently changed by force of habit to "Marie."

Late that evening, while they were seated side-by-side on a bamboo
bench beside of her home, tapping the