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diff --git a/43706-8.txt b/43706-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e1f3c9e..0000000 --- a/43706-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8012 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wounds in the rain, by Stephen Crane - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Wounds in the rain - War stories - -Author: Stephen Crane - -Release Date: September 12, 2013 [EBook #43706] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WOUNDS IN THE RAIN *** - - - - -Produced by sp1nd and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected -without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have -been retained as printed. Words printed in italics are noted with -underscores: _italics_. - - - - -WOUNDS IN THE RAIN - -_War Stories_ - - -BY - -STEPHEN CRANE - -_Author of_ - -"The Red Badge of Courage," "Active Service," "War is Kind," etc. - - -New York -Frederick A. Stokes Company -_Publishers_ - -Copyright, 1899, by -S. S. MCCLURE COMPANY. - -Copyright, 1899, by -THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY. - -Copyright, 1899, by -FRANK LESLIE PUBLISHING HOUSE (Incorporated). - -Copyright, 1900, by -FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY. - -_All Rights Reserved._ - - - - - TO - - Moreton Frewen - - THIS SMALL TOKEN OF THINGS - - WELL REMEMBERED BY - - HIS FRIEND - - STEPHEN CRANE. - -BREDE PLACE, SUSSEX, _April_, 1900. - - - - -CONTENTS - - -THE PRICE OF THE HARNESS 1 - -THE LONE CHARGE OF WILLIAM B. PERKINS 33 - -THE CLAN OF NO-NAME 42 - -GOD REST YE, MERRY GENTLEMEN 74 - -THE REVENGE OF THE ADOLPHUS 107 - -THE SERGEANT'S PRIVATE MADHOUSE 138 - -VIRTUE IN WAR 152 - -MARINES SIGNALLING UNDER FIRE AT GUANTANAMO 178 - -THIS MAJESTIC LIE 190 - -WAR MEMORIES 229 - -THE SECOND GENERATION 309 - - - - -WOUNDS IN THE RAIN - - - - -THE PRICE OF THE HARNESS - - -I - -Twenty-five men were making a road out of a path up the hillside. The -light batteries in the rear were impatient to advance, but first must -be done all that digging and smoothing which gains no encrusted medals -from war. The men worked like gardeners, and a road was growing from -the old pack-animal trail. - -Trees arched from a field of guinea-grass which resembled young wild -corn. The day was still and dry. The men working were dressed in the -consistent blue of United States regulars. They looked indifferent, -almost stolid, despite the heat and the labour. There was little -talking. From time to time a Government pack-train, led by a -sleek-sided tender bell-mare, came from one way or the other way, and -the men stood aside as the strong, hard, black-and-tan animals crowded -eagerly after their curious little feminine leader. - -A volunteer staff-officer appeared, and, sitting on his horse in the -middle of the work, asked the sergeant in command some questions which -were apparently not relevant to any military business. Men straggling -along on various duties almost invariably spun some kind of a joke as -they passed. - -A corporal and four men were guarding boxes of spare ammunition at the -top of the hill, and one of the number often went to the foot of the -hill swinging canteens. - -The day wore down to the Cuban dusk, in which the shadows are all grim -and of ghostly shape. The men began to lift their eyes from the shovels -and picks, and glance in the direction of their camp. The sun threw his -last lance through the foliage. The steep mountain-range on the right -turned blue and as without detail as a curtain. The tiny ruby of light -ahead meant that the ammunition-guard were cooking their supper. From -somewhere in the world came a single rifle-shot. - -Figures appeared, dim in the shadow of the trees. A murmur, a sigh of -quiet relief, arose from the working party. Later, they swung up the -hill in an unformed formation, being always like soldiers, and unable -even to carry a spade save like United States regular soldiers. As they -passed through some fields, the bland white light of the end of the day -feebly touched each hard bronze profile. - -"Wonder if we'll git anythin' to eat," said Watkins, in a low voice. - -"Should think so," said Nolan, in the same tone. They betrayed no -impatience; they seemed to feel a kind of awe of the situation. - -The sergeant turned. One could see the cool grey eye flashing under the -brim of the campaign hat. "What in hell you fellers kickin' about?" he -asked. They made no reply, understanding that they were being -suppressed. - -As they moved on, a murmur arose from the tall grass on either hand. It -was the noise from the bivouac of ten thousand men, although one saw -practically nothing from the low-cart roadway. The sergeant led his -party up a wet clay bank and into a trampled field. Here were scattered -tiny white shelter tents, and in the darkness they were luminous like -the rearing stones in a graveyard. A few fires burned blood-red, and -the shadowy figures of men moved with no more expression of detail than -there is in the swaying of foliage on a windy night. - -The working party felt their way to where their tents were pitched. A -man suddenly cursed; he had mislaid something, and he knew he was not -going to find it that night. Watkins spoke again with the monotony of a -clock, "Wonder if we'll git anythin' to eat." - -Martin, with eyes turned pensively to the stars, began a treatise. -"Them Spaniards----" - -"Oh, quit it," cried Nolan. "What th' piper do you know about th' -Spaniards, you fat-headed Dutchman? Better think of your belly, you -blunderin' swine, an' what you're goin' to put in it, grass or dirt." - -A laugh, a sort of a deep growl, arose from the prostrate men. In the -meantime the sergeant had reappeared and was standing over them. "No -rations to-night," he said gruffly, and turning on his heel, walked -away. - -This announcement was received in silence. But Watkins had flung -himself face downward, and putting his lips close to a tuft of grass, -he formulated oaths. Martin arose and, going to his shelter, crawled in -sulkily. After a long interval Nolan said aloud, "Hell!" Grierson, -enlisted for the war, raised a querulous voice. "Well, I wonder when we -_will_ git fed?" - -From the ground about him came a low chuckle, full of ironical comment -upon Grierson's lack of certain qualities which the other men felt -themselves to possess. - - -II - -In the cold light of dawn the men were on their knees, packing, -strapping, and buckling. The comic toy hamlet of shelter-tents had been -wiped out as if by a cyclone. Through the trees could be seen the -crimson of a light battery's blankets, and the wheels creaked like the -sound of a musketry fight. Nolan, well gripped by his shelter tent, his -blanket, and his cartridge-belt, and bearing his rifle, advanced upon a -small group of men who were hastily finishing a can of coffee. - -"Say, give us a drink, will yeh?" he asked, wistfully. He was as -sad-eyed as an orphan beggar. - -Every man in the group turned to look him straight in the face. He had -asked for the principal ruby out of each one's crown. There was a grim -silence. Then one said, "What fer?" Nolan cast his glance to the -ground, and went away abashed. - -But he espied Watkins and Martin surrounding Grierson, who had gained -three pieces of hard-tack by mere force of his audacious inexperience. -Grierson was fending his comrades off tearfully. - -"Now, don't be damn pigs," he cried. "Hold on a minute." Here Nolan -asserted a claim. Grierson groaned. Kneeling piously, he divided the -hard-tack with minute care into four portions. The men, who had had -their heads together like players watching a wheel of fortune, arose -suddenly, each chewing. Nolan interpolated a drink of water, and sighed -contentedly. - -The whole forest seemed to be moving. From the field on the other side -of the road a column of men in blue was slowly pouring; the battery had -creaked on ahead; from the rear came a hum of advancing regiments. Then -from a mile away rang the noise of a shot; then another shot; in a -moment the rifles there were drumming, drumming, drumming. The -artillery boomed out suddenly. A day of battle was begun. - -The men made no exclamations. They rolled their eyes in the direction -of the sound, and then swept with a calm glance the forests and the -hills which surrounded them, implacably mysterious forests and hills -which lent to every rifle-shot the ominous quality which belongs to -secret assassination. The whole scene would have spoken to the private -soldiers of ambushes, sudden flank attacks, terrible disasters, if it -were not for those cool gentlemen with shoulder-straps and swords who, -the private soldiers knew, were of another world and omnipotent for the -business. - -The battalions moved out into the mud and began a leisurely march in -the damp shade of the trees. The advance of two batteries had churned -the black soil into a formidable paste. The brown leggings of the men, -stained with the mud of other days, took on a deeper colour. -Perspiration broke gently out on the reddish faces. With his heavy roll -of blanket and the half of a shelter-tent crossing his right shoulder -and under his left arm, each man presented the appearance of being -clasped from behind, wrestler fashion, by a pair of thick white arms. - -There was something distinctive in the way they carried their rifles. -There was the grace of an old hunter somewhere in it, the grace of a -man whose rifle has become absolutely a part of himself. Furthermore, -almost every blue shirt sleeve was rolled to the elbow, disclosing -fore-arms of almost incredible brawn. The rifles seemed light, almost -fragile, in the hands that were at the end of these arms, never fat but -always with rolling muscles and veins that seemed on the point of -bursting. And another thing was the silence and the marvellous -impassivity of the faces as the column made its slow way toward where -the whole forest spluttered and fluttered with battle. - -Opportunely, the battalion was halted a-straddle of a stream, and -before it again moved, most of the men had filled their canteens. The -firing increased. Ahead and to the left a battery was booming at -methodical intervals, while the infantry racket was that continual -drumming which, after all, often sounds like rain on a roof. Directly -ahead one could hear the deep voices of field-pieces. - -Some wounded Cubans were carried by in litters improvised from hammocks -swung on poles. One had a ghastly cut in the throat, probably from a -fragment of shell, and his head was turned as if Providence -particularly wished to display this wide and lapping gash to the long -column that was winding toward the front. And another Cuban, shot -through the groin, kept up a continual wail as he swung from the tread -of his bearers. "Ay--ee! Ay--ee! Madre mia! Madre mia!" He sang this -bitter ballad into the ears of at least three thousand men as they -slowly made way for his bearers on the narrow wood-path. These wounded -insurgents were, then, to a large part of the advancing army, the -visible messengers of bloodshed and death, and the men regarded them -with thoughtful awe. This doleful sobbing cry--"Madre mia"--was a -tangible consequent misery of all that firing on in front into which -the men knew they were soon to be plunged. Some of them wished to -inquire of the bearers the details of what had happened; but they could -not speak Spanish, and so it was as if fate had intentionally sealed -the lips of all in order that even meagre information might not leak -out concerning this mystery--battle. On the other hand, many unversed -private soldiers looked upon the unfortunate as men who had seen -thousands maimed and bleeding, and absolutely could not conjure any -further interest in such scenes. - -A young staff-officer passed on horseback. The vocal Cuban was always -wailing, but the officer wheeled past the bearers without heeding -anything. And yet he never before had seen such a sight. His case was -different from that of the private soldiers. He heeded nothing because -he was busy--immensely busy and hurried with a multitude of reasons and -desires for doing his duty perfectly. His whole life had been a mere -period of preliminary reflection for this situation, and he had no -clear idea of anything save his obligation as an officer. A man of this -kind might be stupid; it is conceivable that in remote cases certain -bumps on his head might be composed entirely of wood; but those -traditions of fidelity and courage which have been handed to him from -generation to generation, and which he has tenaciously preserved -despite the persecution of legislators and the indifference of his -country, make it incredible that in battle he should ever fail to give -his best blood and his best thought for his general, for his men, and -for himself. And so this young officer in the shapeless hat and the -torn and dirty shirt failed to heed the wails of the wounded man, even -as the pilgrim fails to heed the world as he raises his illumined face -toward his purpose--rightly or wrongly, his purpose--his sky of the -ideal of duty; and the wonderful part of it is, that he is guided by an -ideal which he has himself created, and has alone protected from -attack. The young man was merely an officer in the United States -regular army. - -The column swung across a shallow ford and took a road which passed the -right flank of one of the American batteries. On a hill it was booming -and belching great clouds of white smoke. The infantry looked up with -interest. Arrayed below the hill and behind the battery were the horses -and limbers, the riders checking their pawing mounts, and behind each -rider a red blanket flamed against the fervent green of the bushes. As -the infantry moved along the road, some of the battery horses turned at -the noise of the trampling feet and surveyed the men with eyes as deep -as wells, serene, mournful, generous eyes, lit heart-breakingly with -something that was akin to a philosophy, a religion of self-sacrifice--oh, -gallant, gallant horses! - -"I know a feller in that battery," said Nolan, musingly. "A driver." - -"Dam sight rather be a gunner," said Martin. - -"Why would ye?" said Nolan, opposingly. - -"Well, I'd take my chances as a gunner b'fore I'd sit way up in th' air -on a raw-boned plug an' git shot at." - -"Aw----" began Nolan. - -"They've had some losses t'-day all right," interrupted Grierson. - -"Horses?" asked Watkins. - -"Horses and men too," said Grierson. - -"How d'yeh know?" - -"A feller told me there by the ford." - -They kept only a part of their minds bearing on this discussion because -they could already hear high in the air the wire-string note of the -enemy's bullets. - - -III - -The road taken by this battalion as it followed other battalions is -something less than a mile long in its journey across a heavily-wooded -plain. It is greatly changed now,--in fact it was metamorphosed in two -days; but at that time it was a mere track through dense shrubbery, -from which rose great dignified arching trees. It was, in fact, a path -through a jungle. - -The battalion had no sooner left the battery in rear when bullets began -to drive overhead. They made several different sounds, but as these -were mainly high shots it was usual for them to make the faint note of -a vibrant string, touched elusively, half-dreamily. - -The military balloon, a fat, wavering, yellow thing, was leading the -advance like some new conception of war-god. Its bloated mass shone -above the trees, and served incidentally to indicate to the men at the -rear that comrades were in advance. The track itself exhibited for all -its visible length a closely-knit procession of soldiers in blue with -breasts crossed with white shelter-tents. The first ominous order of -battle came down the line. "Use the cut-off. Don't use the magazine -until you're ordered." Non-commissioned officers repeated the command -gruffly. A sound of clicking locks rattled along the columns. All men -knew that the time had come. - -The front had burst out with a roar like a brush-fire. The balloon was -dying, dying a gigantic and public death before the eyes of two armies. -It quivered, sank, faded into the trees amid the flurry of a battle -that was suddenly and tremendously like a storm. - -The American battery thundered behind the men with a shock that seemed -likely to tear the backs of their heads off. The Spanish shrapnel fled -on a line to their left, swirling and swishing in supernatural -velocity. The noise of the rifle bullets broke in their faces like the -noise of so many lamp-chimneys or sped overhead in swift cruel -spitting. And at the front the battle-sound, as if it were simply -music, was beginning to swell and swell until the volleys rolled like a -surf. - -The officers shouted hoarsely, "Come on, men! Hurry up, boys! Come on -now! Hurry up!" The soldiers, running heavily in their accoutrements, -dashed forward. A baggage guard was swiftly detailed; the men tore -their rolls from their shoulders as if the things were afire. The -battalion, stripped for action, again dashed forward. - -"Come on, men! Come on!" To them the battle was as yet merely a road -through the woods crowded with troops, who lowered their heads -anxiously as the bullets fled high. But a moment later the column -wheeled abruptly to the left and entered a field of tall green grass. -The line scattered to a skirmish formation. In front was a series of -knolls treed sparsely like orchards; and although no enemy was visible, -these knolls were all popping and spitting with rifle-fire. In some -places there were to be seen long grey lines of dirt, intrenchments. -The American shells were kicking up reddish clouds of dust from the -brow of one of the knolls, where stood a pagoda-like house. It was not -much like a battle with men; it was a battle with a bit of charming -scenery, enigmatically potent for death. - -Nolan knew that Martin had suddenly fallen. "What----" he began. - -"They've hit me," said Martin. - -"Jesus!" said Nolan. - -Martin lay on the ground, clutching his left forearm just below the -elbow with all the strength of his right hand. His lips were pursed -ruefully. He did not seem to know what to do. He continued to stare at -his arm. - -Then suddenly the bullets drove at them low and hard. The men flung -themselves face downward in the grass. Nolan lost all thought of his -friend. Oddly enough, he felt somewhat like a man hiding under a bed, -and he was just as sure that he could not raise his head high without -being shot as a man hiding under a bed is sure that he cannot raise his -head without bumping it. - -A lieutenant was seated in the grass just behind him. He was in the -careless and yet rigid pose of a man balancing a loaded plate on his -knee at a picnic. He was talking in soothing paternal tones. - -"Now, don't get rattled. We're all right here. Just as safe as being in -church.... They're all going high. Don't mind them.... Don't mind -them.... They're all going high. We've got them rattled and they can't -shoot straight. Don't mind them." - -The sun burned down steadily from a pale blue sky upon the crackling -woods and knolls and fields. From the roar of musketry it might have -been that the celestial heat was frying this part of the world. - -Nolan snuggled close to the grass. He watched a grey line of -intrenchments, above which floated the veriest gossamer of smoke. A -flag lolled on a staff behind it. The men in the trench volleyed -whenever an American shell exploded near them. It was some kind of -infantile defiance. Frequently a bullet came from the woods directly -behind Nolan and his comrades. They thought at the time that these -bullets were from the rifle of some incompetent soldier of their own -side. - -There was no cheering. The men would have looked about them, wondering -where was the army, if it were not that the crash of the fighting for -the distance of a mile denoted plainly enough where was the army. - -Officially, the battalion had not yet fired a shot; there had been -merely some irresponsible popping by men on the extreme left flank. But -it was known that the lieutenant-colonel who had been in command was -dead--shot through the heart--and that the captains were thinned down -to two. At the rear went on a long tragedy, in which men, bent and -hasty, hurried to shelter with other men, helpless, dazed, and bloody. -Nolan knew of it all from the hoarse and affrighted voices which he -heard as he lay flattened in the grass. There came to him a sense of -exultation. Here, then, was one of those dread and lurid situations, -which in a nation's history stand out in crimson letters, becoming a -tale of blood to stir generation after generation. And he was in it, -and unharmed. If he lived through the battle, he would be a hero of the -desperate fight at ----; and here he wondered for a second what fate -would be pleased to bestow as a name for this battle. - -But it is quite sure that hardly another man in the battalion was -engaged in any thoughts concerning the historic. On the contrary, they -deemed it ill that they were being badly cut up on a most unimportant -occasion. It would have benefited the conduct of whoever were weak if -they had known that they were engaged in a battle that would be famous -for ever. - - -IV - -Martin had picked himself up from where the bullet had knocked him and -addressed the lieutenant. "I'm hit, sir," he said. - -The lieutenant was very busy. "All right, all right," he said, just -heeding the man enough to learn where he was wounded. "Go over that -way. You ought to see a dressing-station under those trees." - -Martin found himself dizzy and sick. The sensation in his arm was -distinctly galvanic. The feeling was so strange that he could wonder at -times if a wound was really what ailed him. Once, in this dazed way, he -examined his arm; he saw the hole. Yes, he was shot; that was it. And -more than in any other way it affected him with a profound sadness. - -As directed by the lieutenant, he went to the clump of trees, but he -found no dressing-station there. He found only a dead soldier lying -with his face buried in his arms and with his shoulders humped high as -if he were convulsively sobbing. Martin decided to make his way to the -road, deeming that he thus would better his chances of getting to a -surgeon. But he suddenly found his way blocked by a fence of barbed -wire. Such was his mental condition that he brought up at a rigid halt -before this fence, and stared stupidly at it. It did not seem to him -possible that this obstacle could be defeated by any means. The fence -was there, and it stopped his progress. He could not go in that -direction. - -But as he turned he espied that procession of wounded men, strange -pilgrims, that had already worn a path in the tall grass. They were -passing through a gap in the fence. Martin joined them. The bullets -were flying over them in sheets, but many of them bore themselves as -men who had now exacted from fate a singular immunity. Generally there -were no outcries, no kicking, no talk at all. They too, like Martin, -seemed buried in a vague but profound melancholy. - -But there was one who cried out loudly. A man shot in the head was -being carried arduously by four comrades, and he continually yelled one -word that was terrible in its primitive strength,--"Bread! Bread! -Bread!" Following him and his bearers were a limping crowd of men less -cruelly wounded, who kept their eyes always fixed on him, as if they -gained from his extreme agony some balm for their own sufferings. - -"Bread! Give me bread!" - -Martin plucked a man by the sleeve. The man had been shot in the foot, -and was making his way with the help of a curved, incompetent stick. It -is an axiom of war that wounded men can never find straight sticks. - -"What's the matter with that feller?" asked Martin. - -"Nutty," said the man. - -"Why is he?" - -"Shot in th' head," answered the other, impatiently. - -The wail of the sufferer arose in the field amid the swift rasp of -bullets and the boom and shatter of shrapnel. "Bread! Bread! Oh, God, -can't you give me bread? Bread!" The bearers of him were suffering -exquisite agony, and often they exchanged glances which exhibited their -despair of ever getting free of this tragedy. It seemed endless. - -"Bread! Bread! Bread!" - -But despite the fact that there was always in the way of this crowd a -wistful melancholy, one must know that there were plenty of men who -laughed, laughed at their wounds whimsically, quaintly inventing odd -humours concerning bicycles and cabs, extracting from this shedding of -their blood a wonderful amount of material for cheerful badinage, and, -with their faces twisted from pain as they stepped, they often joked -like music-hall stars. And perhaps this was the most tearful part of -all. - -They trudged along a road until they reached a ford. Here under the -eave of the bank lay a dismal company. In the mud and in the damp shade -of some bushes were a half-hundred pale-faced men prostrate. Two or -three surgeons were working there. Also, there was a chaplain, -grim-mouthed, resolute, his surtout discarded. Overhead always was that -incessant maddening wail of bullets. - -Martin was standing gazing drowsily at the scene when a surgeon grabbed -him. "Here, what's the matter with you?" Martin was daunted. He -wondered what he had done that the surgeon should be so angry with him. - -"In the arm," he muttered, half-shamefacedly. - -After the surgeon had hastily and irritably bandaged the injured member -he glared at Martin and said, "You can walk all right, can't you?" - -"Yes, sir," said Martin. - -"Well, now, you just make tracks down that road." - -"Yes, sir." Martin went meekly off. The doctor had seemed exasperated -almost to the point of madness. - -The road was at this time swept with the fire of a body of Spanish -sharpshooters who had come cunningly around the flanks of the American -army, and were now hidden in the dense foliage that lined both sides of -the road. They were shooting at everything. The road was as crowded as -a street in a city, and at an absurdly short range they emptied their -rifles at the passing people. They were aided always by the over-sweep -from the regular Spanish line of battle. - -Martin was sleepy from his wound. He saw tragedy follow tragedy, but -they created in him no feeling of horror. - -A man with a red cross on his arm was leaning against a great tree. -Suddenly he tumbled to the ground, and writhed for a moment in the way -of a child oppressed with colic. A comrade immediately began to bustle -importantly. "Here," he called to Martin, "help me carry this man, will -you?" - -Martin looked at him with dull scorn. "I'll be damned if I do," he -said. "Can't carry myself, let alone somebody else." - -This answer, which rings now so inhuman, pitiless, did not affect the -other man. "Well, all right," he said. "Here comes some other fellers." -The wounded man had now turned blue-grey; his eyes were closed; his -body shook in a gentle, persistent chill. - -Occasionally Martin came upon dead horses, their limbs sticking out and -up like stakes. One beast mortally shot, was besieged by three or four -men who were trying to push it into the bushes, where it could live its -brief time of anguish without thrashing to death any of the wounded men -in the gloomy procession. - -The mule train, with extra ammunition, charged toward the front, still -led by the tinkling bell-mare. - -An ambulance was stuck momentarily in the mud, and above the crack of -battle one could hear the familiar objurgations of the driver as he -whirled his lash. - -Two privates were having a hard time with a wounded captain, whom they -were supporting to the rear, He was half cursing, half wailing out the -information that he not only would not go another step toward the rear, -but that he was certainly going to return at once to the front. They -begged, pleaded at great length as they continually headed him off. -They were not unlike two nurses with an exceptionally bad and -headstrong little duke. - -The wounded soldiers paused to look impassively upon this struggle. -They were always like men who could not be aroused by anything further. - -The visible hospital was mainly straggling thickets intersected with -narrow paths, the ground being covered with men. Martin saw a busy -person with a book and a pencil, but he did not approach him to become -officially a member of the hospital. All he desired was rest and -immunity from nagging. He took seat painfully under a bush and leaned -his back upon the trunk. There he remained thinking, his face wooden. - - -V - -"My Gawd," said Nolan, squirming on his belly in the grass, "I can't -stand this much longer." - -Then suddenly every rifle in the firing line seemed to go off of its -own accord. It was the result of an order, but few men heard the order; -in the main they had fired because they heard others fire, and their -sense was so quick that the volley did not sound too ragged. These -marksmen had been lying for nearly an hour in stony silence, their -sights adjusted, their fingers fondling their rifles, their eyes -staring at the intrenchments of the enemy. The battalion had suffered -heavy losses, and these losses had been hard to bear, for a soldier -always reasons that men lost during a period of inaction are men badly -lost. - -The line now sounded like a great machine set to running frantically in -the open air, the bright sunshine of a green field. To the prut of the -magazine rifles was added the under-chorus of the clicking mechanism, -steady and swift, as if the hand of one operator was controlling it -all. It reminds one always of a loom, a great grand steel loom, -clinking, clanking, plunking, plinking, to weave a woof of thin red -threads, the cloth of death. By the men's shoulders under their eager -hands dropped continually the yellow empty shells, spinning into the -crushed grass blades to remain there and mark for the belated eye the -line of a battalion's fight. - -All impatience, all rebellious feeling, had passed out of the men as -soon as they had been allowed to use their weapons against the enemy. -They now were absorbed in this business of hitting something, and all -the long training at the rifle ranges, all the pride of the marksman -which had been so long alive in them, made them forget for the time -everything but shooting. They were as deliberate and exact as so many -watchmakers. - -A new sense of safety was rightfully upon them. They knew that those -mysterious men in the high far trenches in front were having the -bullets sping in their faces with relentless and remarkable precision; -they knew, in fact, that they were now doing the thing which they had -been trained endlessly to do, and they knew they were doing it well. -Nolan, for instance, was overjoyed. "Plug 'em," he said: "Plug 'em." He -laid his face to his rifle as if it were his mistress. He was aiming -under the shadow of a certain portico of a fortified house: there he -could faintly see a long black line which he knew to be a loop-hole cut -for riflemen, and he knew that every shot of his was going there under -the portico, mayhap through the loop-hole to the brain of another man -like himself. He loaded the awkward magazine of his rifle again and -again. He was so intent that he did not know of new orders until he saw -the men about him scrambling to their feet and running forward, -crouching low as they ran. - -He heard a shout. "Come on, boys! We can't be last! We're going up! -We're going up." He sprang to his feet and, stooping, ran with the -others. Something fine, soft, gentle, touched his heart as he ran. He -had loved the regiment, the army, because the regiment, the army, was -his life,--he had no other outlook; and now these men, his comrades, -were performing his dream-scenes for him; they were doing as he had -ordained in his visions. It is curious that in this charge he -considered himself as rather unworthy. Although he himself was in the -assault with the rest of them, it seemed to him that his comrades were -dazzlingly courageous. His part, to his mind, was merely that of a man -who was going along with the crowd. - -He saw Grierson biting madly with his pincers at a barbed-wire fence. -They were half-way up the beautiful sylvan slope; there was no enemy to -be seen, and yet the landscape rained bullets. Somebody punched him -violently in the stomach. He thought dully to lie down and rest, but -instead he fell with a crash. - -The sparse line of men in blue shirts and dirty slouch hats swept on up -the hill. He decided to shut his eyes for a moment because he felt very -dreamy and peaceful. It seemed only a minute before he heard a voice -say, "There he is." Grierson and Watkins had come to look for him. He -searched their faces at once and keenly, for he had a thought that the -line might be driven down the hill and leave him in Spanish hands. But -he saw that everything was secure, and he prepared no questions. - -"Nolan," said Grierson clumsily, "do you know me?" - -The man on the ground smiled softly. "Of course I know you, you -chowder-faced monkey. Why wouldn't I know you?" - -Watkins knelt beside him. "Where did they plug you, old boy?" - -Nolan was somewhat dubious. "It ain't much. I don't think but it's -somewheres there." He laid a finger on the pit of his stomach. They -lifted his shirt, and then privately they exchanged a glance of horror. - -"Does it hurt, Jimmie?" said Grierson, hoarsely. - -"No," said Nolan, "it don't hurt any, but I feel sort of -dead-to-the-world and numb all over. I don't think it's very bad." - -"Oh, it's all right," said Watkins. - -"What I need is a drink," said Nolan, grinning at them. "I'm -chilly--lying on this damp ground." - -"It ain't very damp, Jimmie," said Grierson. - -"Well, it is damp," said Nolan, with sudden irritability. "I can feel -it. I'm wet, I tell you--wet through--just from lying here." - -They answered hastily. "Yes, that's so, Jimmie. It _is_ damp. That's -so." - -"Just put your hand under my back and see how wet the ground is," he -said. - -"No," they answered. "That's all right, Jimmie. We know it's wet." - -"Well, put your hand under and see," he cried, stubbornly. - -"Oh, never mind, Jimmie." - -"No," he said, in a temper. "See for yourself." Grierson seemed to be -afraid of Nolan's agitation, and so he slipped a hand under the -prostrate man, and presently withdrew it covered with blood. "Yes," he -said, hiding his hand carefully from Nolan's eyes, "you were right, -Jimmie." - -"Of course I was," said Nolan, contentedly closing his eyes. "This -hillside holds water like a swamp." After a moment he said, "Guess I -ought to know. I'm flat here on it, and you fellers are standing up." - -He did not know he was dying. He thought he was holding an argument on -the condition of the turf. - - -VI - -"Cover his face," said Grierson, in a low and husky voice afterwards. - -"What'll I cover it with?" said Watkins. - -They looked at themselves. They stood in their shirts, trousers, -leggings, shoes; they had nothing. - -"Oh," said Grierson, "here's his hat." He brought it and laid it on the -face of the dead man. They stood for a time. It was apparent that they -thought it essential and decent to say or do something. Finally Watkins -said in a broken voice, "Aw, it's a dam shame." They moved slowly off -toward the firing line. - - * * * * * - -In the blue gloom of evening, in one of the fever-tents, the two rows -of still figures became hideous, charnel. The languid movement of a -hand was surrounded with spectral mystery, and the occasional painful -twisting of a body under a blanket was terrifying, as if dead men were -moving in their graves under the sod. A heavy odour of sickness and -medicine hung in the air. - -"What regiment are you in?" said a feeble voice. - -"Twenty-ninth Infantry," answered another voice. - -"Twenty-ninth! Why, the man on the other side of me is in the -Twenty-ninth." - -"He is?... Hey, there, partner, are you in the Twenty-ninth?" - -A third voice merely answered wearily. "Martin of C Company." - -"What? Jack, is that you?" - -"It's part of me.... Who are you?" - -"Grierson, you fat-head. I thought you were wounded." - -There was the noise of a man gulping a great drink of water, and at its -conclusion Martin said, "I am." - -"Well, what you doin' in the fever-place, then?" - -Martin replied with drowsy impatience. "Got the fever too." - -"Gee!" said Grierson. - -Thereafter there was silence in the fever-tent, save for the noise made -by a man over in a corner--a kind of man always found in an American -crowd--a heroic, implacable comedian and patriot, of a humour that has -bitterness and ferocity and love in it, and he was wringing from the -situation a grim meaning by singing the "Star-Spangled Banner" with all -the ardour which could be procured from his fever-stricken body. - -"Billie," called Martin in a low voice, "where's Jimmy Nolan?" - -"He's dead," said Grierson. - -A triangle of raw gold light shone on a side of the tent. Somewhere in -the valley an engine's bell was ringing, and it sounded of peace and -home as if it hung on a cow's neck. - -"And where's Ike Watkins?" - -"Well, he ain't dead, but he got shot through the lungs. They say he -ain't got much show." - -Through the clouded odours of sickness and medicine rang the dauntless -voice of the man in the corner. - - - - -THE LONE CHARGE OF WILLIAM B. PERKINS - - -He could not distinguish between a five-inch quick-firing gun and a -nickle-plated ice-pick, and so, naturally, he had been elected to fill -the position of war-correspondent. The responsible party was the editor -of the "Minnesota Herald." Perkins had no information of war, and no -particular rapidity of mind for acquiring it, but he had that rank and -fibrous quality of courage which springs from the thick soil of Western -America. - -It was morning in Guantanamo Bay. If the marines encamped on the hill -had had time to turn their gaze seaward, they might have seen a small -newspaper despatch-boat wending its way toward the entrance of the -harbour over the blue, sunlit waters of the Caribbean. In the stern of -this tug Perkins was seated upon some coal bags, while the breeze -gently ruffled his greasy pajamas. He was staring at a brown line of -entrenchments surmounted by a flag, which was Camp McCalla. In the -harbour were anchored two or three grim, grey cruisers and a transport. -As the tug steamed up the radiant channel, Perkins could see men moving -on shore near the charred ruins of a village. Perkins was deeply moved; -here already was more war than he had ever known in Minnesota. -Presently he, clothed in the essential garments of a war-correspondent, -was rowed to the sandy beach. Marines in yellow linen were handling an -ammunition supply. They paid no attention to the visitor, being morose -from the inconveniences of two days and nights of fighting. Perkins -toiled up the zigzag path to the top of the hill, and looked with eager -eyes at the trenches, the field-pieces, the funny little Colts, the -flag, the grim marines lying wearily on their arms. And still more, he -looked through the clear air over 1,000 yards of mysterious woods from -which emanated at inopportune times repeated flocks of Mauser bullets. - -Perkins was delighted. He was filled with admiration for these jaded -and smoky men who lay so quietly in the trenches waiting for a -resumption of guerilla enterprise. But he wished they would heed him. -He wanted to talk about it. Save for sharp inquiring glances, no one -acknowledged his existence. - -Finally he approached two young lieutenants, and in his innocent -Western way he asked them if they would like a drink. The effect on the -two young lieutenants was immediate and astonishing. With one voice -they answered, "Yes, we would." Perkins almost wept with joy at this -amiable response, and he exclaimed that he would immediately board the -tug and bring off a bottle of Scotch. This attracted the officers, and -in a burst of confidence one explained that there had not been a drop -in camp. Perkins lunged down the hill, and fled to his boat, where in -his exuberance he engaged in a preliminary altercation with some -whisky. Consequently he toiled again up the hill in the blasting sun -with his enthusiasm in no ways abated. The parched officers were very -gracious, and such was the state of mind of Perkins that he did not -note properly how serious and solemn was his engagement with the -whisky. And because of this fact, and because of his antecedents, there -happened the lone charge of William B. Perkins. - -Now, as Perkins went down the hill, something happened. A private in -those high trenches found that a cartridge was clogged in his rifle. It -then becomes necessary with most kinds of rifles to explode the -cartridge. The private took the rifle to his captain, and explained the -case. But it would not do in that camp to fire a rifle for mechanical -purposes and without warning, because the eloquent sound would bring -six hundred tired marines to tension and high expectancy. So the -captain turned, and in a loud voice announced to the camp that he found -it necessary to shoot into the air. The communication rang sharply from -voice to voice. Then the captain raised the weapon and fired. -Whereupon--and whereupon--a large line of guerillas lying in the bushes -decided swiftly that their presence and position were discovered, and -swiftly they volleyed. - -In a moment the woods and the hills were alive with the crack and -sputter of rifles. Men on the warships in the harbour heard the old -familiar flut-flut-fluttery-fluttery-flut-flut-flut from the -entrenchments. Incidentally the launch of the "Marblehead," commanded -by one of our headlong American ensigns, streaked for the strategic -woods like a galloping marine dragoon, peppering away with its -blunderbuss in the bow. - -Perkins had arrived at the foot of the hill, where began the arrangement -of 150 marines that protected the short line of communication between the -main body and the beach. These men had all swarmed into line behind -fortifications improvised from the boxes of provisions. And to them were -gathering naked men who had been bathing, naked men who arrayed themselves -speedily in cartridge belts and rifles. The woods and the hills went -flut-flut-flut-fluttery-fluttery-flut-fllllluttery-flut. Under the -boughs of a beautiful tree lay five wounded men thinking vividly. - -And now it befell Perkins to discover a Spaniard in the bush. The -distance was some five hundred yards. In a loud voice he announced his -perception. He also declared hoarsely, that if he only had a rifle, he -would go and possess himself of this particular enemy. Immediately an -amiable lad shot in the arm said: "Well, take mine." Perkins thus -acquired a rifle and a clip of five cartridges. - -"Come on!" he shouted. This part of the battalion was lying very tight, -not yet being engaged, but not knowing when the business would swirl -around to them. - -To Perkins they replied with a roar. "Come back here, you ---- fool. Do -you want to get shot by your own crowd? Come back, ---- ----!" As a -detail, it might be mentioned that the fire from a part of the hill -swept the journey upon which Perkins had started. - -Now behold the solitary Perkins adrift in the storm of fighting, even -as a champagne jacket of straw is lost in a great surf. He found it out -quickly. Four seconds elapsed before he discovered that he was an -almshouse idiot plunging through hot, crackling thickets on a June -morning in Cuba. Sss-s-swing-sing-ing-pop went the lightning-swift -metal grasshoppers over him and beside him. The beauties of rural -Minnesota illuminated his conscience with the gold of lazy corn, with -the sleeping green of meadows, with the cathedral gloom of pine -forests. Sshsh-swing-pop! Perkins decided that if he cared to extract -himself from a tangle of imbecility he must shoot. The entire situation -was that he must shoot. It was necessary that he should shoot. Nothing -would save him but shooting. It is a law that men thus decide when the -waters of battle close over their minds. So with a prayer that the -Americans would not hit him in the back nor the left side, and that the -Spaniards would not hit him in the front, he knelt like a supplicant -alone in the desert of chaparral, and emptied his magazine at his -Spaniard before he discovered that his Spaniard was a bit of dried palm -branch. - -Then Perkins flurried like a fish. His reason for being was a Spaniard -in the bush. When the Spaniard turned into a dried palm branch, he -could no longer furnish himself with one adequate reason. - -Then did he dream frantically of some anthracite hiding-place, some -profound dungeon of peace where blind mules live placidly chewing the -far-gathered hay. - -"Sss-swing-win-pop! Prut-prut-prrrut!" Then a field-gun spoke. -"_Boom_-ra-swow-ow-ow-ow-_pum_." Then a Colt automatic began to bark. -"Crack-crk-crk-crk-crk-crk" endlessly. Raked, enfiladed, flanked, -surrounded, and overwhelmed, what hope was there for William B. Perkins -of the "Minnesota Herald?" - -But war is a spirit. War provides for those that it loves. It provides -sometimes death and sometimes a singular and incredible safety. There -were few ways in which it was possible to preserve Perkins. One way was -by means of a steam-boiler. - -Perkins espied near him an old, rusty steam-boiler lying in the bushes. -War only knows how it was there, but there it was, a temple shining -resplendent with safety. With a moan of haste, Perkins flung himself -through that hole which expressed the absence of the steam-pipe. - -Then ensconced in his boiler, Perkins comfortably listened to the ring -of a fight which seemed to be in the air above him. Sometimes bullets -struck their strong, swift blow against the boiler's sides, but none -entered to interfere with Perkins's rest. - -Time passed. The fight, short anyhow, dwindled to prut ... prut ... -prut-prut ... prut. And when the silence came, Perkins might have been -seen cautiously protruding from the boiler. Presently he strolled back -toward the marine lines with his hat not able to fit his head for the -new bumps of wisdom that were on it. - -The marines, with an annoyed air, were settling down again when an -apparitional figure came from the bushes. There was great excitement. - -"It's that crazy man," they shouted, and as he drew near they gathered -tumultuously about him and demanded to know how he had accomplished it. - -Perkins made a gesture, the gesture of a man escaping from an -unintentional mud-bath, the gesture of a man coming out of battle, and -then he told them. - -The incredulity was immediate and general. "Yes, you did! What? In an -old boiler? An old boiler? Out in that brush? Well, we guess not." They -did not believe him until two days later, when a patrol happened to -find the rusty boiler, relic of some curious transaction in the ruin of -the Cuban sugar industry. The patrol then marvelled at the truthfulness -of war-correspondents until they were almost blind. - -Soon after his adventure Perkins boarded the tug, wearing a countenance -of poignant thoughtfulness. - - - - -THE CLAN OF NO-NAME - - Unwind my riddle. - Cruel as hawks the hours fly; - Wounded men seldom come home to die; - The hard waves see an arm flung high; - Scorn hits strong because of a lie; - Yet there exists a mystic tie. - Unwind my riddle. - - -She was out in the garden. Her mother came to her rapidly. "Margharita! -Margharita, Mister Smith is here! Come!" Her mother was fat and -commercially excited. Mister Smith was a matter of some importance to -all Tampa people, and since he was really in love with Margharita he -was distinctly of more importance to this particular household. - -Palm trees tossed their sprays over the fence toward the rutted sand of -the street. A little foolish fish-pond in the centre of the garden -emitted a sound of red-fins flipping, flipping. "No, mamma," said the -girl, "let Mr. Smith wait. I like the garden in the moonlight." - -Her mother threw herself into that state of virtuous astonishment which -is the weapon of her kind. "Margharita!" - -The girl evidently considered herself to be a privileged belle, for she -answered quite carelessly, "Oh, let him wait." - -The mother threw abroad her arms with a semblance of great high-minded -suffering and withdrew. Margharita walked alone in the moonlit garden. -Also an electric light threw its shivering gleam over part of her -parade. - -There was peace for a time. Then suddenly through the faint brown -palings was struck an envelope white and square. Margharita approached -this envelope with an indifferent stride. She hummed a silly air, she -bore herself casually, but there was something that made her grasp it -hard, a peculiar muscular exhibition, not discernible to indifferent -eyes. She did not clutch it, but she took it--simply took it in a way -that meant everything, and, to measure it by vision, it was a picture -of the most complete disregard. - -She stood straight for a moment; then she drew from her bosom a -photograph and thrust it through the palings. She walked rapidly into -the house. - - -II - -A man in garb of blue and white--something relating to what we call -bed-ticking--was seated in a curious little cupola on the top of a -Spanish blockhouse. The blockhouse sided a white military road that -curved away from the man's sight into a blur of trees. On all sides of -him were fields of tall grass, studded with palms and lined with fences -of barbed wire. The sun beat aslant through the trees and the man sped -his eyes deep into the dark tropical shadows that seemed velvet with -coolness. These tranquil vistas resembled painted scenery in a theatre, -and, moreover, a hot, heavy silence lay upon the land. - -The soldier in the watching place leaned an unclean Mauser rifle in a -corner, and, reaching down, took a glowing coal on a bit of palm bark -handed up to him by a comrade. The men below were mainly asleep. The -sergeant in command drowsed near the open door, the arm above his head, -showing his long keen-angled chevrons attached carelessly with -safety-pins. The sentry lit his cigarette and puffed languorously. - -Suddenly he heard from the air around him the querulous, deadly-swift -spit of rifle-bullets, and, an instant later, the poppety-pop of a -small volley sounded in his face, close, as if it were fired only ten -feet away. Involuntarily he threw back his head quickly as if he were -protecting his nose from a falling tile. He screamed an alarm and fell -into the blockhouse. In the gloom of it, men with their breaths coming -sharply between their teeth, were tumbling wildly for positions at the -loop-holes. The door had been slammed, but the sergeant lay just -within, propped up as when he drowsed, but now with blood flowing -steadily over the hand that he pressed flatly to his chest. His face -was in stark yellow agony; he chokingly repeated: "Fuego! Por Dios, -hombres!" - -The men's ill-conditioned weapons were jammed through the loop-holes -and they began to fire from all four sides of the blockhouse from the -simple data, apparently, that the enemy were in the vicinity. The fumes -of burnt powder grew stronger and stronger in the little square -fortress. The rattling of the magazine locks was incessant, and the -interior might have been that of a gloomy manufactory if it were not -for the sergeant down under the feet of the men, coughing out: "Por -Dios, hombres! Por Dios! Fuego!" - - -III - -A string of five Cubans, in linen that had turned earthy brown in -colour, slid through the woods at a pace that was neither a walk nor a -run. It was a kind of rack. In fact the whole manner of the men, as -they thus moved, bore a rather comic resemblance to the American pacing -horse. But they had come many miles since sun-up over mountainous and -half-marked paths, and were plainly still fresh. The men were all -practicos--guides. They made no sound in their swift travel, but moved -their half-shod feet with the skill of cats. The woods lay around them -in a deep silence, such as one might find at the bottom of a lake. - -Suddenly the leading practico raised his hand. The others pulled up -short and dropped the butts of their weapons calmly and noiselessly to -the ground. The leader whistled a low note and immediately another -practico appeared from the bushes. He moved close to the leader without -a word, and then they spoke in whispers. - -"There are twenty men and a sergeant in the blockhouse." - -"And the road?" - -"One company of cavalry passed to the east this morning at seven -o'clock. They were escorting four carts. An hour later, one horseman -rode swiftly to the westward. About noon, ten infantry soldiers with a -corporal were taken from the big fort and put in the first blockhouse, -to the east of the fort. There were already twelve men there. We saw a -Spanish column moving off toward Mariel." - -"No more?" - -"No more." - -"Good. But the cavalry?" - -"It is all right. They were going a long march." - -"The expedition is a half league behind. Go and tell the general." - -The scout disappeared. The five other men lifted their guns and resumed -their rapid and noiseless progress. A moment later no sound broke the -stillness save the thump of a mango, as it dropped lazily from its tree -to the grass. So strange had been the apparition of these men, their -dress had been so allied in colour to the soil, their passing had so -little disturbed the solemn rumination of the forest, and their going -had been so like a spectral dissolution, that a witness could have -wondered if he dreamed. - - -IV - -A small expedition had landed with arms from the United States, and had -now come out of the hills and to the edge of a wood. Before them was a -long-grassed rolling prairie marked with palms. A half-mile away was -the military road, and they could see the top of a blockhouse. The -insurgent scouts were moving somewhere off in the grass. The general -sat comfortably under a tree, while his staff of three young officers -stood about him chatting. Their linen clothing was notable from being -distinctly whiter than those of the men who, one hundred and fifty in -number, lay on the ground in a long brown fringe, ragged--indeed, bare -in many places--but singularly reposeful, unworried, veteran-like. - -The general, however, was thoughtful. He pulled continually at his -little thin moustache. As far as the heavily patrolled and guarded -military road was concerned, the insurgents had been in the habit of -dashing across it in small bodies whenever they pleased, but to safely -scoot over it with a valuable convoy of arms, was decidedly a more -important thing. So the general awaited the return of his practicos -with anxiety. The still pampas betrayed no sign of their existence. - -The general gave some orders and an officer counted off twenty men to -go with him, and delay any attempt of the troop of cavalry to return -from the eastward. It was not an easy task, but it was a familiar -task--checking the advance of a greatly superior force by a very hard -fire from concealment. A few rifles had often bayed a strong column for -sufficient length of time for all strategic purposes. The twenty men -pulled themselves together tranquilly. They looked quite indifferent. -Indeed, they had the supremely casual manner of old soldiers, hardened -to battle as a condition of existence. - -Thirty men were then told off, whose function it was to worry and rag -at the blockhouse, and check any advance from the westward. A hundred -men, carrying precious burdens--besides their own equipment--were to -pass in as much of a rush as possible between these two wings, cross -the road and skip for the hills, their retreat being covered by a -combination of the two firing parties. It was a trick that needed both -luck and neat arrangement. Spanish columns were for ever prowling -through this province in all directions and at all times. Insurgent -bands--the lightest of light infantry--were kept on the jump, even when -they were not incommoded by fifty boxes, each one large enough for the -coffin of a little man, and heavier than if the little man were in it; -and fifty small but formidable boxes of ammunition. - -The carriers stood to their boxes and the firing parties leaned on -their rifles. The general arose and strolled to and fro, his hands -behind him. Two of his staff were jesting at the third, a young man -with a face less bronzed, and with very new accoutrements. On the strap -of his cartouche were a gold star and a silver star, placed in a -horizontal line, denoting that he was a second lieutenant. He seemed -very happy; he laughed at all their jests, although his eye roved -continually over the sunny grass-lands, where was going to happen his -first fight. One of his stars was bright, like his hopes, the other was -pale, like death. - -Two practicos came racking out of the grass. They spoke rapidly to the -general; he turned and nodded to his officers. The two firing parties -filed out and diverged toward their positions. The general watched them -through his glasses. It was strange to note how soon they were dim to -the unaided eye. The little patches of brown in the green grass did not -look like men at all. - -Practicos continually ambled up to the general. Finally he turned and -made a sign to the bearers. The first twenty men in line picked up -their boxes, and this movement rapidly spread to the tail of the line. -The weighted procession moved painfully out upon the sunny prairie. The -general, marching at the head of it, glanced continually back as if he -were compelled to drag behind him some ponderous iron chain. Besides -the obvious mental worry, his face bore an expression of intense -physical strain, and he even bent his shoulders, unconsciously tugging -at the chain to hurry it through this enemy-crowded valley. - - -V - -The fight was opened by eight men who, snuggling in the grass, within -three hundred yards of the blockhouse, suddenly blazed away at the -bed-ticking figure in the cupola and at the open door where they could -see vague outlines. Then they laughed and yelled insulting language, -for they knew that as far as the Spaniards were concerned, the surprise -was as much as having a diamond bracelet turn to soap. It was this -volley that smote the sergeant and caused the man in the cupola to -scream and tumble from his perch. - -The eight men, as well as all other insurgents within fair range, had -chosen good positions for lying close, and for a time they let the -blockhouse rage, although the soldiers therein could occasionally hear, -above the clamour of their weapons, shrill and almost wolfish calls, -coming from men whose lips were laid against the ground. But it is not -in the nature of them of Spanish blood, and armed with rifles, to long -endure the sight of anything so tangible as an enemy's blockhouse -without shooting at it--other conditions being partly favourable. -Presently the steaming soldiers in the little fort could hear the sping -and shiver of bullets striking the wood that guarded their bodies. - -A perfectly white smoke floated up over each firing Cuban, the penalty -of the Remington rifle, but about the blockhouse there was only the -lightest gossamer of blue. The blockhouse stood always for some big, -clumsy and rather incompetent animal, while the insurgents, scattered -on two sides of it, were little enterprising creatures of another -species, too wise to come too near, but joyously raging at its easiest -flanks and drilling the lead into its sides in a way to make it fume, -and spit and rave like the tom-cat when the glad, free-band fox-hound -pups catch him in the lane. - -The men, outlying in the grass, chuckled deliriously at the fury of the -Spanish fire. They howled opprobrium to encourage the Spaniards to fire -more ill-used, incapable bullets. Whenever an insurgent was about to -fire, he ordinarily prefixed the affair with a speech. "Do you want -something to eat? Yes? All right." Bang! "Eat that." The more common -expressions of the incredibly foul Spanish tongue were trifles light as -air in this badinage, which was shrieked out from the grass during the -spin of bullets, and the dull rattle of the shooting. - -But at some time there came a series of sounds from the east that began -in a few disconnected pruts and ended as if an amateur was trying to -play the long roll upon a muffled drum. Those of the insurgents in the -blockhouse attacking party, who had neighbours in the grass, turned and -looked at them seriously. They knew what the new sound meant. It meant -that the twenty men who had gone to the eastward were now engaged. A -column of some kind was approaching from that direction, and they knew -by the clatter that it was a solemn occasion. - -In the first place, they were now on the wrong side of the road. They -were obliged to cross it to rejoin the main body, provided of course -that the main body succeeded itself in crossing it. To accomplish this, -the party at the blockhouse would have to move to the eastward, until -out of sight or good range of the maddened little fort. But judging -from the heaviness of the firing, the party of twenty who protected the -east were almost sure to be driven immediately back. Hence travel in -that direction would become exceedingly hazardous. Hence a man looked -seriously at his neighbour. It might easily be that in a moment they -were to become an isolated force and woefully on the wrong side of the -road. - -Any retreat to the westward was absurd, since primarily they would have -to widely circle the blockhouse, and more than that, they could hear, -even now in that direction, Spanish bugle calling to Spanish bugle, far -and near, until one would think that every man in Cuba was a trumpeter, -and had come forth to parade his talent. - - -VI - -The insurgent general stood in the middle of the road gnawing his lips. -Occasionally, he stamped a foot and beat his hands passionately -together. The carriers were streaming past him, patient, sweating -fellows, bowed under their burdens, but they could not move fast enough -for him when others of his men were engaged both to the east and to the -west, and he, too, knew from the sound that those to the east were in a -sore way. Moreover, he could hear that accursed bugling, bugling, -bugling in the west. - -He turned suddenly to the new lieutenant who stood behind him, pale and -quiet. "Did you ever think a hundred men were so many?" he cried, -incensed to the point of beating them. Then he said longingly: "Oh, for -a half an hour! Or even twenty minutes!" - -A practico racked violently up from the east. It is characteristic of -these men that, although they take a certain roadster gait and hold it -for ever, they cannot really run, sprint, race. "Captain Rodriguez is -attacked by two hundred men, señor, and the cavalry is behind them. He -wishes to know----" - -The general was furious; he pointed. "Go! Tell Rodriguez to hold his -place for twenty minutes, even if he leaves every man dead." - -The practico shambled hastily off. - -The last of the carriers were swarming across the road. The -rifle-drumming in the east was swelling out and out, evidently coming -slowly nearer. The general bit his nails. He wheeled suddenly upon the -young lieutenant. "Go to Bas at the blockhouse. Tell him to hold the -devil himself for ten minutes and then bring his men out of that -place." - -The long line of bearers was crawling like a dun worm toward the safety -of the foot-hills. High bullets sang a faint song over the aide as he -saluted. The bugles had in the west ceased, and that was more ominous -than bugling. It meant that the Spanish troops were about to march, or -perhaps that they had marched. - -The young lieutenant ran along the road until he came to the bend which -marked the range of sight from the blockhouse. He drew his machete, his -stunning new machete, and hacked feverishly at the barbed wire fence -which lined the north side of the road at that point. The first wire -was obdurate, because it was too high for his stroke, but two more cut -like candy, and he stepped over the remaining one, tearing his trousers -in passing on the lively serpentine ends of the severed wires. Once out -in the field and bullets seemed to know him and call for him and speak -their wish to kill him. But he ran on, because it was his duty, and -because he would be shamed before men if he did not do his duty, and -because he was desolate out there all alone in the fields with death. - -A man running in this manner from the rear was in immensely greater -danger than those who lay snug and close. But he did not know it. He -thought because he was five hundred--four hundred and fifty--four -hundred yards away from the enemy and the others were only three -hundred yards away that they were in far more peril. He ran to join -them because of his opinion. He did not care to do it, but he thought -that was what men of his kind would do in such a case. There was a -standard and he must follow it, obey it, because it was a monarch, the -Prince of Conduct. - -A bewildered and alarmed face raised itself from the grass and a voice -cried to him: "Drop, Manolo! Drop! Drop!" He recognised Bas and flung -himself to the earth beside him. - -"Why," he said panting, "what's the matter?" - -"Matter?" said Bas. "You are one of the most desperate and careless -officers I know. When I saw you coming I wouldn't have given a peseta -for your life." - -"Oh, no," said the young aide. Then he repeated his orders rapidly. But -he was hugely delighted. He knew Bas well; Bas was a pupil of Maceo; -Bas invariably led his men; he never was a mere spectator of their -battle; he was known for it throughout the western end of the island. -The new officer had early achieved a part of his ambition--to be called -a brave man by established brave men. - -"Well, if we get away from here quickly it will be better for us," said -Bas, bitterly. "I've lost six men killed, and more wounded. Rodriguez -can't hold his position there, and in a little time more than a -thousand men will come from the other direction." - -He hissed a low call, and later the young aide saw some of the men -sneaking off with the wounded, lugging them on their backs as porters -carry sacks. The fire from the blockhouse had become a-weary, and as -the insurgent fire also slackened, Bas and the young lieutenant lay in -the weeds listening to the approach of the eastern fight, which was -sliding toward them like a door to shut them off. - -Bas groaned. "I leave my dead. Look there." He swung his hand in a -gesture and the lieutenant looking saw a corpse. He was not stricken as -he expected; there was very little blood; it was a mere thing. - -"Time to travel," said Bas suddenly. His imperative hissing brought his -men near him; there were a few hurried questions and answers; then, -characteristically, the men turned in the grass, lifted their rifles, -and fired a last volley into the blockhouse, accompanying it with their -shrill cries. Scrambling low to the ground, they were off in a winding -line for safety. Breathing hard, the lieutenant stumbled his way -forward. Behind him he could hear the men calling each to each: "Segue! -Segue! Segue! Go on! Get out! Git!" Everybody understood that the peril -of crossing the road was compounding from minute to minute. - - -VII - -When they reached the gap through which the expedition had passed, they -fled out upon the road like scared wild-fowl tracking along a -sea-beach. A cloud of blue figures far up this dignified shaded avenue, -fired at once. The men already had begun to laugh as they shied one by -one across the road. "Segue! Segue!" The hard part for the nerves had -been the lack of information of the amount of danger. Now that they -could see it, they accounted it all the more lightly for their previous -anxiety. - -Over in the other field, Bas and the young lieutenant found Rodriguez, -his machete in one hand, his revolver in the other, smoky, dirty, -sweating. He shrugged his shoulders when he saw them and pointed -disconsolately to the brown thread of carriers moving toward the -foot-hills. His own men were crouched in line just in front of him -blazing like a prairie fire. - -Now began the fight of a scant rear-guard to hold back the pressing -Spaniards until the carriers could reach the top of the ridge, a mile -away. This ridge by the way was more steep than any roof; it conformed, -more, to the sides of a French war-ship. Trees grew vertically from it, -however, and a man burdened only with his rifle usually pulled himself -wheezingly up in a sort of ladder-climbing process, grabbing the slim -trunks above him. How the loaded carriers were to conquer it in a -hurry, no one knew. Rodriguez shrugged his shoulders as one who would -say with philosophy, smiles, tears, courage: "Isn't this a mess!" - -At an order, the men scattered back for four hundred yards with the -rapidity and mystery of a handful of pebbles flung in the night. They -left one behind who cried out, but it was now a game in which some were -sure to be left behind to cry out. - -The Spaniards deployed on the road and for twenty minutes remained -there pouring into the field such a fire from their magazines as was -hardly heard at Gettysburg. As a matter of truth the insurgents were at -this time doing very little shooting, being chary of ammunition. But it -is possible for the soldier to confuse himself with his own noise and -undoubtedly the Spanish troops thought throughout their din that they -were being fiercely engaged. Moreover, a firing-line--particularly at -night or when opposed to a hidden foe--is nothing less than an -emotional chord, a chord of a harp that sings because a puff of air -arrives or when a bit of down touches it. This is always true of new -troops or stupid troops and these troops were rather stupid troops. -But, the way in which they mowed the verdure in the distance was a -sight for a farmer. - -Presently the insurgents slunk back to another position where they -fired enough shots to stir again the Spaniards into an opinion that -they were in a heavy fight. But such a misconception could only endure -for a number of minutes. Presently it was plain that the Spaniards were -about to advance and, moreover, word was brought to Rodriguez that a -small band of guerillas were already making an attempt to worm around -the right flank. Rodriguez cursed despairingly; he sent both Bas and -the young lieutenant to that end of the line to hold the men to their -work as long as possible. - -In reality the men barely needed the presence of their officers. The -kind of fighting left practically everything to the discretion of the -individual and they arrived at concert of action mainly because of the -equality of experience, in the wisdoms of bushwhacking. - -The yells of the guerillas could plainly be heard and the insurgents -answered in kind. The young lieutenant found desperate work on the -right flank. The men were raving mad with it, babbling, tearful, almost -frothing at the mouth. Two terrible bloody creatures passed him, -creeping on all fours, and one in a whimper was calling upon God, his -mother, and a saint. The guerillas, as effectually concealed as the -insurgents, were driving their bullets low through the smoke at sight -of a flame, a movement of the grass or sight of a patch of dirty brown -coat. They were no column-o'-four soldiers; they were as slinky and -snaky and quick as so many Indians. They were, moreover, native Cubans -and because of their treachery to the one-star flag, they never by any -chance received quarter if they fell into the hands of the insurgents. -Nor, if the case was reversed, did they ever give quarter. It was life -and life, death and death; there was no middle ground, no compromise. -If a man's crowd was rapidly retreating and he was tumbled over by a -slight hit, he should curse the sacred graves that the wound was not -through the precise centre of his heart. The machete is a fine broad -blade but it is not so nice as a drilled hole in the chest; no man -wants his death-bed to be a shambles. The men fighting on the -insurgents' right knew that if they fell they were lost. - -On the extreme right, the young lieutenant found five men in a little -saucer-like hollow. Two were dead, one was wounded and staring blankly -at the sky and two were emptying hot rifles furiously. Some of the -guerillas had snaked into positions only a hundred yards away. - -The young man rolled in among the men in the saucer. He could hear the -barking of the guerillas and the screams of the two insurgents. The -rifles were popping and spitting in his face, it seemed, while the -whole land was alive with a noise of rolling and drumming. Men could -have gone drunken in all this flashing and flying and snarling and din, -but at this time he was very deliberate. He knew that he was thrusting -himself into a trap whose door, once closed, opened only when the black -hand knocked and every part of him seemed to be in panic-stricken -revolt. But something controlled him; something moved him inexorably in -one direction; he perfectly understood but he was only sad, sad with a -serene dignity, with the countenance of a mournful young prince. He was -of a kind--that seemed to be it--and the men of his kind, on peak or -plain, from the dark northern ice-fields to the hot wet jungles, -through all wine and want, through all lies and unfamiliar truth, dark -or light, the men of his kind were governed by their gods, and each man -knew the law and yet could not give tongue to it, but it was the law -and if the spirits of the men of his kind were all sitting in critical -judgment upon him even then in the sky, he could not have bettered his -conduct; he needs must obey the law and always with the law there is -only one way. But from peak and plain, from dark northern ice-fields -and hot wet jungles, through wine and want, through all lies and -unfamiliar truth, dark or light, he heard breathed to him the approval -and the benediction of his brethren. - -He stooped and gently took a dead man's rifle and some cartridges. The -battle was hurrying, hurrying, hurrying, but he was in no haste. His -glance caught the staring eye of the wounded soldier, and he smiled at -him quietly. The man--simple doomed peasant--was not of his kind, but -the law on fidelity was clear. - -He thrust a cartridge into the Remington and crept up beside the two -unhurt men. Even as he did so, three or four bullets cut so close to -him that all his flesh tingled. He fired carefully into the smoke. The -guerillas were certainly not now more than fifty yards away. - -He raised him coolly for his second shot, and almost instantly it was -as if some giant had struck him in the chest with a beam. It whirled -him in a great spasm back into the saucer. As he put his two hands to -his breast, he could hear the guerillas screeching exultantly, every -throat vomiting forth all the infamy of a language prolific in the -phrasing of infamy. - -One of the other men came rolling slowly down the slope, while his -rifle followed him, and, striking another rifle, clanged out. Almost -immediately the survivor howled and fled wildly. A whole volley missed -him and then one or more shots caught him as a bird is caught on the -wing. - -The young lieutenant's body seemed galvanised from head to foot. He -concluded that he was not hurt very badly, but when he tried to move he -found that he could not lift his hands from his breast. He had turned -to lead. He had had a plan of taking a photograph from his pocket and -looking at it. - -There was a stir in the grass at the edge of the saucer, and a man -appeared there, looking where lay the four insurgents. His negro face -was not an eminently ferocious one in its lines, but now it was lit -with an illimitable blood-greed. He and the young lieutenant exchanged -a singular glance; then he came stepping eagerly down. The young -lieutenant closed his eyes, for he did not want to see the flash of the -machete. - - -VIII - -The Spanish colonel was in a rage, and yet immensely proud; immensely -proud, and yet in a rage of disappointment. There had been a fight and -the insurgents had retreated leaving their dead, but still a valuable -expedition had broken through his lines and escaped to the mountains. -As a matter of truth, he was not sure whether to be wholly delighted or -wholly angry, for well he knew that the importance lay not so much in -the truthful account of the action as it did in the heroic prose of the -official report, and in the fight itself lay material for a purple -splendid poem. The insurgents had run away; no one could deny it; it -was plain even to whatever privates had fired with their eyes shut. -This was worth a loud blow and splutter. However, when all was said and -done, he could not help but reflect that if he had captured this -expedition, he would have been a brigadier-general, if not more. - -He was a short, heavy man with a beard, who walked in a manner common -to all elderly Spanish officers, and to many young ones; that is to -say, he walked as if his spine was a stick and a little longer than his -body; as if he suffered from some disease of the backbone, which -allowed him but scant use of his legs. He toddled along the road, -gesticulating disdainfully and muttering: "Ca! Ca! Ca!" - -He berated some soldiers for an immaterial thing, and as he approached -the men stepped precipitately back as if he were a fire-engine. They -were most of them young fellows, who displayed, when under orders, the -manner of so many faithful dogs. At present, they were black, -tongue-hanging, thirsty boys, bathed in the nervous weariness of the -after-battle time. - -Whatever he may truly have been in character, the colonel closely -resembled a gluttonous and libidinous old pig, filled from head to foot -with the pollution of a sinful life. "Ca!" he snarled, as he toddled. -"Ca! Ca!" The soldiers saluted as they backed to the side of the road. -The air was full of the odour of burnt rags. Over on the prairie -guerillas and regulars were rummaging the grass. A few unimportant -shots sounded from near the base of the hills. - -A guerilla, glad with plunder, came to a Spanish captain. He held in -his hand a photograph. "Mira, señor. I took this from the body of an -officer whom I killed machete to machete." - -The captain shot from the corner of his eye a cynical glance at the -guerilla, a glance which commented upon the last part of the statement. -"M-m-m," he said. He took the photograph and gazed with a slow faint -smile, the smile of a man who knows bloodshed and homes and love, at -the face of a girl. He turned the photograph presently, and on the back -of it was written: "One lesson in English I will give you--this: I love -you, Margharita." The photograph had been taken in Tampa. - -The officer was silent for a half-minute, while his face still wore the -slow faint smile. "Pobrecetto," he murmured finally, with a philosophic -sigh, which was brother to a shrug. Without deigning a word to the -guerilla he thrust the photograph in his pocket and walked away. - -High over the green earth, in the dizzy blue heights, some great birds -were slowly circling with down-turned beaks. - - -IX - -Margharita was in the gardens. The blue electric rays shone through the -plumes of the palm and shivered in feathery images on the walk. In the -little foolish fish-pond some stalwart fish was apparently bullying the -others, for often there sounded a frantic splashing. - -Her mother came to her rapidly. "Margharita! Mister Smith is here! -Come!" - -"Oh, is he?" cried the girl. She followed her mother to the house. She -swept into the little parlor with a grand air, the egotism of a savage. -Smith had heard the whirl of her skirts in the hall, and his heart, as -usual, thumped hard enough to make him gasp. Every time he called, he -would sit waiting with the dull fear in his breast that her mother -would enter and indifferently announce that she had gone up to heaven -or off to New York, with one of his dream-rivals, and he would never -see her again in this wide world. And he would conjure up tricks to -then escape from the house without any one observing his face break up -into furrows. It was part of his love to believe in the absolute -treachery of his adored one. So whenever he heard the whirl of her -skirts in the hall he felt that he had again leased happiness from a -dark fate. - -She was rosily beaming and all in white. "Why, Mister Smith," she -exclaimed, as if he was the last man in the world she expected to see. - -"Good-evenin'," he said, shaking hands nervously. He was always awkward -and unlike himself, at the beginning of one of these calls. It took him -some time to get into form. - -She posed her figure in operatic style on a chair before him, and -immediately galloped off a mile of questions, information of herself, -gossip and general outcries which left him no obligation, but to look -beamingly intelligent and from time to time say: "Yes?" His personal -joy, however, was to stare at her beauty. - -When she stopped and wandered as if uncertain which way to talk, there -was a minute of silence, which each of them had been educated to feel -was very incorrect; very incorrect indeed. Polite people always babbled -at each other like two brooks. - -He knew that the responsibility was upon him, and, although his mind -was mainly upon the form of the proposal of marriage which he intended -to make later, it was necessary that he should maintain his reputation -as a well-bred man by saying something at once. It flashed upon him to -ask: "Won't you please play?" But the time for the piano ruse was not -yet; it was too early. So he said the first thing that came into his -head: "Too bad about young Manolo Prat being killed over there in Cuba, -wasn't it?" - -"Wasn't it a pity?" she answered. - -"They say his mother is heart-broken," he continued. "They're afraid -she's goin' to die." - -"And wasn't it queer that we didn't hear about it for almost two -months?" - -"Well, it's no use tryin' to git quick news from there." - -Presently they advanced to matters more personal, and she used upon him -a series of star-like glances which rumpled him at once to squalid -slavery. He gloated upon her, afraid, afraid, yet more avaricious than -a thousand misers. She fully comprehended; she laughed and taunted him -with her eyes. She impressed upon him that she was like a -will-o'-the-wisp, beautiful beyond compare but impossible, almost -impossible, at least very difficult; then again, suddenly, -impossible--impossible--impossible. He was glum; he would never dare -propose to this radiance; it was like asking to be pope. - -A moment later, there chimed into the room something that he knew to be -a more tender note. The girl became dreamy as she looked at him; her -voice lowered to a delicious intimacy of tone. He leaned forward; he -was about to outpour his bully-ragged soul in fine words, -when--presto--she was the most casual person he had ever laid eyes -upon, and was asking him about the route of the proposed trolley line. - -But nothing short of a fire could stop him now. He grabbed her hand. -"Margharita," he murmured gutturally, "I want you to marry me." - -She glared at him in the most perfect lie of astonishment. "What do you -say?" - -He arose, and she thereupon arose also and fled back a step. He could -only stammer out her name. And thus they stood, defying the principles -of the dramatic art. - -"I love you," he said at last. - -"How--how do I know you really--truly love me?" she said, raising her -eyes timorously to his face and this timorous glance, this one timorous -glance, made him the superior person in an instant. He went forward as -confident as a grenadier, and, taking both her hands, kissed her. - -That night she took a stained photograph from her dressing-table and -holding it over the candle burned it to nothing, her red lips meanwhile -parted with the intentness of her occupation. On the back of the -photograph was written: "One lesson in English I will give you--this: I -love you." - -For the word is clear only to the kind who on peak or plain, from dark -northern ice-fields to the hot wet jungles, through all wine and want, -through lies and unfamiliar truth, dark or light, are governed by the -unknown gods, and though each man knows the law, no man may give tongue -to it. - - - - -GOD REST YE, MERRY GENTLEMEN - - -Little Nell, sometimes called the Blessed Damosel, was a war -correspondent for the _New York Eclipse_, and at sea on the despatch -boats he wore pajamas, and on shore he wore whatever fate allowed him, -which clothing was in the main unsuitable to the climate. He had been -cruising in the Caribbean on a small tug, awash always, habitable -never, wildly looking for Cervera's fleet; although what he was going -to do with four armoured cruisers and two destroyers in the event of -his really finding them had not been explained by the managing editor. -The cable instructions read:--"Take tug; go find Cervera's fleet." If -his unfortunate nine-knot craft should happen to find these great -twenty-knot ships, with their two spiteful and faster attendants, -Little Nell had wondered how he was going to lose them again. He had -marvelled, both publicly and in secret, on the uncompromising asininity -of managing editors at odd moments, but he had wasted little time. The -_Jefferson G. Johnson_ was already coaled, so he passed the word to his -skipper, bought some tinned meats, cigars, and beer, and soon the -_Johnson_ sailed on her mission, tooting her whistle in graceful -farewell to some friends of hers in the bay. - -So the _Johnson_ crawled giddily to one wave-height after another, and -fell, aslant, into one valley after another for a longer period than -was good for the hearts of the men, because the _Johnson_ was merely a -harbour-tug, with no architectural intention of parading the high-seas, -and the crew had never seen the decks all white water like a mere -sunken reef. As for the cook, he blasphemed hopelessly hour in and hour -out, meanwhile pursuing the equipment of his trade frantically from -side to side of the galley. Little Nell dealt with a great deal of -grumbling, but he knew it was not the real evil grumbling. It was -merely the unhappy words of men who wished expression of comradeship -for their wet, forlorn, half-starved lives, to which, they explained, -they were not accustomed, and for which, they explained, they were not -properly paid. Little Nell condoled and condoled without difficulty. He -laid words of gentle sympathy before them, and smothered his own misery -behind the face of a reporter of the _New York Eclipse_. But they -tossed themselves in their cockleshell even as far as Martinique; they -knew many races and many flags, but they did not find Cervera's fleet. -If they had found that elusive squadron this timid story would never -have been written; there would probably have been a lyric. The -_Johnson_ limped one morning into the Mole St. Nicholas, and there -Little Nell received this despatch:--"Can't understand your inaction. -What are you doing with the boat? Report immediately. Fleet transports -already left Tampa. Expected destination near Santiago. Proceed there -immediately. Place yourself under orders.--ROGERS, _Eclipse_." - -One day, steaming along the high, luminous blue coast of Santiago -province, they fetched into view the fleets, a knot of masts and -funnels, looking incredibly inshore, as if they were glued to the -mountains. Then mast left mast, and funnel left funnel, slowly, slowly, -and the shore remained still, but the fleets seemed to move out toward -the eager _Johnson_. At the speed of nine knots an hour the scene -separated into its parts. On an easily rolling sea, under a crystal -sky, black-hulled transports--erstwhile packets--lay waiting, while -grey cruisers and gunboats lay near shore, shelling the beach and some -woods. From their grey sides came thin red flashes, belches of white -smoke, and then over the waters sounded boom--boom--boom-boom. The crew -of the _Jefferson G. Johnson_ forgave Little Nell all the suffering of -a previous fortnight. - -To the westward, about the mouth of Santiago harbour, sat a row of -castellated grey battleships, their eyes turned another way, waiting. - -The _Johnson_ swung past a transport whose decks and rigging were -aswarm with black figures, as if a tribe of bees had alighted upon a -log. She swung past a cruiser indignant at being left out of the game, -her deck thick with white-clothed tars watching the play of their -luckier brethren. The cold blue, lifting seas tilted the big ships -easily, slowly, and heaved the little ones in the usual sinful way, as -if very little babes had surreptitiously mounted sixteen-hand trotting -hunters. The _Johnson_ leered and tumbled her way through a community -of ships. The bombardment ceased, and some of the troopships edged in -near the land. Soon boats black with men and towed by launches were -almost lost to view in the scintillant mystery of light which appeared -where the sea met the land. A disembarkation had begun. The _Johnson_ -sped on at her nine knots, and Little Nell chafed exceedingly, gloating -upon the shore through his glasses, anon glancing irritably over the -side to note the efforts of the excited tug. Then at last they were in -a sort of a cove, with troopships, newspaper boats, and cruisers on all -sides of them, and over the water came a great hum of human voices, -punctuated frequently by the clang of engine-room gongs as the steamers -manoeuvred to avoid jostling. - -In reality it was the great moment--the moment for which men, ships, -islands, and continents had been waiting for months; but somehow it did -not look it. It was very calm; a certain strip of high, green, rocky -shore was being rapidly populated from boat after boat; that was all. -Like many preconceived moments, it refused to be supreme. - -But nothing lessened Little Nell's frenzy. He knew that the army was -landing--he could see it; and little did he care if the great moment -did not look its part--it was his virtue as a correspondent to -recognise the great moment in any disguise. The _Johnson_ lowered a -boat for him, and he dropped into it swiftly, forgetting everything. -However, the mate, a bearded philanthropist, flung after him a -mackintosh and a bottle of whisky. Little Nell's face was turned toward -those other boats filled with men, all eyes upon the placid, gentle, -noiseless shore. Little Nell saw many soldiers seated stiffly beside -upright rifle barrels, their blue breasts crossed with white shelter -tent and blanket-rolls. Launches screeched; jack-tars pushed or pulled -with their boathooks; a beach was alive with working soldiers, some of -them stark naked. Little Nell's boat touched the shore amid a babble of -tongues, dominated at that time by a single stern voice, which was -repeating, "Fall in, B Company!" - -He took his mackintosh and his bottle of whisky and invaded Cuba. It -was a trifle bewildering. Companies of those same men in blue and brown -were being rapidly formed and marched off across a little open -space--near a pool--near some palm trees--near a house--into the hills. -At one side, a mulatto in dirty linen and an old straw hat was -hospitably using a machete to cut open some green cocoanuts for a group -of idle invaders. At the other side, up a bank, a blockhouse was -burning furiously; while near it some railway sheds were smouldering, -with a little Roger's engine standing amid the ruins, grey, almost -white, with ashes until it resembled a ghost. Little Nell dodged the -encrimsoned blockhouse, and proceeded where he saw a little village -street lined with flimsy wooden cottages. Some ragged Cuban cavalrymen -were tranquilly tending their horses in a shed which had not yet grown -cold of the Spanish occupation. Three American soldiers were trying to -explain to a Cuban that they wished to buy drinks. A native rode by, -clubbing his pony, as always. The sky was blue; the sea talked with a -gravelly accent at the feet of some rocks; upon its bosom the ships sat -quiet as gulls. There was no mention, directly, of invasion--invasion -for war--save in the roar of the flames at the blockhouse; but none -even heeded this conflagration, excepting to note that it threw out a -great heat. It was warm, very warm. It was really hard for Little Nell -to keep from thinking of his own affairs: his debts, other misfortunes, -loves, prospects of happiness. Nobody was in a flurry; the Cubans were -not tearfully grateful; the American troops were visibly glad of being -released from those ill transports, and the men often asked, with -interest, "Where's the Spaniards?" And yet it must have been a great -moment! It was a _great_ moment! - -It seemed made to prove that the emphatic time of history is not the -emphatic time of the common man, who throughout the change of nations -feels an itch on his shin, a pain in his head, hunger, thirst, a lack -of sleep; the influence of his memory of past firesides, glasses of -beer, girls, theatres, ideals, religions, parents, faces, hurts, joy. - -Little Nell was hailed from a comfortable veranda, and, looking up, saw -Walkley of the _Eclipse_, stretched in a yellow and green hammock, -smoking his pipe with an air of having always lived in that house, in -that village. "Oh, dear little Nell, how glad I am to see your angel -face again! There! don't try to hide it; I can see it. Did you bring a -corkscrew too? You're superseded as master of the slaves. Did you know -it? And by Rogers, too! Rogers is a Sadducee, a cadaver and a pelican, -appointed to the post of chief correspondent, no doubt, because of his -rare gift of incapacity. Never mind." - -"Where is he now?" asked Little Nell, taking seat on the steps. - -"He is down interfering with the landing of the troops," answered -Walkley, swinging a leg. "I hope you have the _Johnson_ well stocked -with food as well as with cigars, cigarettes and tobaccos, ales, wines -and liquors. We shall need them. There is already famine in the house -of Walkley. I have discovered that the system of transportation for our -gallant soldiery does not strike in me the admiration which I have -often felt when viewing the management of an ordinary bun-shop. A -hunger, stifling, jammed together amid odours, and everybody -irritable--ye gods, how irritable! And so I---- Look! look!" - -The _Jefferson G. Johnson_, well known to them at an incredible -distance, could be seen striding the broad sea, the smoke belching from -her funnel, headed for Jamaica. "The Army Lands in Cuba!" shrieked -Walkley. "Shafter's Army Lands near Santiago! Special type! Half the -front page! Oh, the Sadducee! The cadaver! The pelican!" - -Little Nell was dumb with astonishment and fear. Walkley, however, was -at least not dumb. "That's the pelican! That's Mr. Rogers making his -first impression upon the situation. He has engraved himself upon us. -We are tattooed with him. There will be a fight to-morrow, sure, and we -will cover it even as you found Cervera's fleet. No food, no horses, no -money. I am transport lame; you are sea-weak. We will never see our -salaries again. Whereby Rogers is a fool." - -"Anybody else here?" asked Little Nell wearily. - -"Only young Point." Point was an artist on the _Eclipse_. "But he has -nothing. Pity there wasn't an almshouse in this God-forsaken country. -Here comes Point now." A sad-faced man came along carrying much -luggage. "Hello, Point! lithographer _and_ genius, have you food? Food. -Well, then, you had better return yourself to Tampa by wire. You are no -good here. Only one more little mouth to feed." - -Point seated himself near Little Nell. "I haven't had anything to eat -since daybreak," he said gloomily, "and I don't care much, for I am -simply dog-tired." - -"Don' tell _me_ you are dog-tired, my talented friend," cried Walkley -from his hammock. "Think of me. And now what's to be done?" - -They stared for a time disconsolately at where, over the rim of the -sea, trailed black smoke from the _Johnson_. From the landing-place -below and to the right came the howls of a man who was superintending -the disembarkation of some mules. The burning blockhouse still rendered -its hollow roar. Suddenly the men-crowded landing set up its cheer, and -the steamers all whistled long and raucously. Tiny black figures were -raising an American flag over a blockhouse on the top of a great hill. - -"That's mighty fine Sunday stuff," said Little Nell. "Well, I'll go and -get the order in which the regiments landed, and who was first ashore, -and all that. Then I'll go and try to find General Lawton's -headquarters. His division has got the advance, I think." - -"And, lo! I will write a burning description of the raising of the -flag," said Walkley. "While the brilliant Point buskies for food--and -makes damn sure he gets it," he added fiercely. - -Little Nell thereupon wandered over the face of the earth, threading -out the story of the landing of the regiments. He only found about -fifty men who had been the first American soldier to set foot on Cuba, -and of these he took the most probable. The army was going forward in -detail, as soon as the pieces were landed. There was a house something -like a crude country tavern--the soldiers in it were looking over their -rifles and talking. There was a well of water quite hot--more palm -trees--an inscrutable background. - -When he arrived again at Walkley's mansion he found the verandah -crowded with correspondents in khaki, duck, dungaree and flannel. They -wore riding-breeches, but that was mainly forethought. They could see -now that fate intended them to walk. Some were writing copy, while -Walkley discoursed from his hammock. Rhodes--doomed to be shot in -action some days later--was trying to borrow a canteen from men who had -one, and from men who had none. Young Point, wan, utterly worn out, was -asleep on the floor. Walkley pointed to him. "That is how he appears -after his foraging journey, during which he ran all Cuba through a -sieve. Oh, yes; a can of corn and a half-bottle of lime juice." - -"Say, does anybody know, the name of the commander of the 26th -Infantry?" - -"Who commands the first brigade of Kent's Division?" - -"What was the name of the chap that raised the flag?" - -"What time is it?" - -And a woeful man was wandering here and there with a cold pipe, saying -plaintively, "Who's got a match? Anybody here got a match?" - -Little Nell's left boot hurt him at the heel, and so he removed it, -taking great care and whistling through his teeth. The heated dust was -upon them all, making everybody feel that bathing was unknown and -shattering their tempers. Young Point developed a snore which brought -grim sarcasm from all quarters. Always below, hummed the traffic of the -landing-place. - -When night came Little Nell thought best not to go to bed until late, -because he recognised the mackintosh as but a feeble comfort. The -evening was a glory. A breeze came from the sea, fanning spurts of -flame out of the ashes and charred remains of the sheds, while overhead -lay a splendid summer-night sky, aflash with great tranquil stars. In -the streets of the village were two or three fires, frequently and -suddenly reddening with their glare the figures of low-voiced men who -moved here and there. The lights of the transports blinked on the -murmuring plain in front of the village; and far to the westward Little -Nell could sometimes note a subtle indication of a playing -search-light, which alone marked the presence of the invisible -battleships, half-mooned about the entrance of Santiago Harbour, -waiting--waiting--waiting. - -When Little Nell returned to the veranda he stumbled along a man-strewn -place, until he came to the spot where he left his mackintosh; but he -found it gone. His curses mingled then with those of the men upon whose -bodies he had trodden. Two English correspondents, lying awake to smoke -a last pipe, reared and looked at him lazily. "What's wrong, old chap?" -murmured one. "Eh? Lost it, eh? Well, look here; come here and take a -bit of my blanket. It's a jolly big one. Oh, no trouble at all, man. -There you are. Got enough? Comfy? Good-night." - -A sleepy voice arose in the darkness. "If this hammock breaks, I shall -hit at least ten of those Indians down there. Never mind. This is war." - -The men slept. Once the sound of three or four shots rang across the -windy night, and one head uprose swiftly from the verandah, two eyes -looked dazedly at nothing, and the head as swiftly sank. Again a sleepy -voice was heard. "Usual thing! Nervous sentries!" The men slept. Before -dawn a pulseless, penetrating chill came into the air, and the -correspondents awakened, shivering, into a blue world. Some of the -fires still smouldered. Walkley and Little Nell kicked vigorously into -Point's framework. "Come on, brilliance! Wake up, talent! Don't be -sodgering. It's too cold to sleep, but it's not too cold to hustle." -Point sat up dolefully. Upon his face was a childish expression. "Where -are we going to get breakfast?" he asked, sulking. - -"There's no breakfast for you, you hound! Get up and hustle." -Accordingly they hustled. With exceeding difficulty they learned that -nothing emotional had happened during the night, save the killing -of two Cubans who were so secure in ignorance that they could not -understand the challenge of two American sentries. Then Walkley ran a -gamut of commanding officers, and Little Nell pumped privates for their -impressions of Cuba. When his indignation at the absence of breakfast -allowed him, Point made sketches. At the full break of day the -_Adolphus_, and _Eclipse_ despatch boat, sent a boat ashore with Tailor -and Shackles in it, and Walkley departed tearlessly for Jamaica, soon -after he had bestowed upon his friends much tinned goods and blankets. - -"Well, we've got our stuff off," said Little Nell. "Now Point and I -must breakfast." - -Shackles, for some reason, carried a great hunting-knife, and with it -Little Nell opened a tin of beans. - -"Fall to," he said amiably to Point. - -There were some hard biscuits. Afterwards they--the four of -them--marched off on the route of the troops. They were well loaded -with luggage, particularly young Point, who had somehow made a great -gathering of unnecessary things. Hills covered with verdure soon -enclosed them. They heard that the army had advanced some nine miles -with no fighting. Evidences of the rapid advance were here and -there--coats, gauntlets, blanket rolls on the ground. Mule-trains came -herding back along the narrow trail to the sound of a little tinkling -bell. Cubans were appropriating the coats and blanket-rolls. - -The four correspondents hurried onward. The surety of impending battle -weighed upon them always, but there was a score of minor things more -intimate. Little Nell's left heel had chafed until it must have been -quite raw, and every moment he wished to take seat by the roadside and -console himself from pain. Shackles and Point disliked each other -extremely, and often they foolishly quarrelled over something, or -nothing. The blanket-rolls and packages for the hand oppressed -everybody. It was like being burned out of a boarding-house, and having -to carry one's trunk eight miles to the nearest neighbour. Moreover, -Point, since he had stupidly overloaded, with great wisdom placed -various cameras and other trifles in the hands of his three -less-burdened and more sensible friends. This made them fume and gnash, -but in complete silence, since he was hideously youthful and innocent -and unaware. They all wished to rebel, but none of them saw their way -clear, because--they did not understand. But somehow it seemed a -barbarous project--no one wanted to say anything--cursed him privately -for a little ass, but--said nothing. For instance, Little Nell wished -to remark, "Point, you are not a thoroughbred in a half of a way. You -are an inconsiderate, thoughtless little swine." But, in truth, he -said, "Point, when you started out you looked like a Christmas-tree. If -we keep on robbing you of your bundles there soon won't be anything -left for the children." Point asked dubiously, "What do you mean?" -Little Nell merely laughed with deceptive good-nature. - -They were always very thirsty. There was always a howl for the -half-bottle of lime juice. Five or six drops from it were simply -heavenly in the warm water from the canteens. Point seemed to try to -keep the lime juice in his possession, in order that he might get more -benefit of it. Before the war was ended the others found themselves -declaring vehemently that they loathed Point, and yet when men asked -them the reason they grew quite inarticulate. The reasons seemed then -so small, so childish, as the reasons of a lot of women. And yet at the -time his offences loomed enormous. - -The surety of impending battle still weighed upon them. Then it came -that Shackles turned seriously ill. Suddenly he dropped his own and -much of Point's traps upon the trail, wriggled out of his blanket-roll, -flung it away, and took seat heavily at the roadside. They saw with -surprise that his face was pale as death, and yet streaming with sweat. - -"Boys," he said in his ordinary voice, "I'm clean played out. I can't -go another step. You fellows go on, and leave me to come as soon as I -am able." - -"Oh, no, that wouldn't do at all," said Little Nell and Tailor -together. - -Point moved over to a soft place, and dropped amid whatever traps he -was himself carrying. - -"Don't know whether it's ancestral or merely from the--sun--but I've -got a stroke," said Shackles, and gently slumped over to a prostrate -position before either Little Nell or Tailor could reach him. - -Thereafter Shackles was parental; it was Little Nell and Tailor who -were really suffering from a stroke, either ancestral or from the sun. - -"Put my blanket-roll under my head, Nell, me son," he said gently. -"There now! That is very nice. It is delicious. Why, I'm all right, -only--only tired." He closed his eyes, and something like an easy -slumber came over him. Once he opened his eyes. "Don't trouble about -me," he remarked. - -But the two fussed about him, nervous, worried, discussing this plan -and that plan. It was Point who first made a business-like statement. -Seated carelessly and indifferently upon his soft place, he finally -blurted out: - -"Say! Look here! Some of us have got to go on. We can't all stay here. -Some of us have got to go on." - -It was quite true; the _Eclipse_ could take no account of strokes. -In the end Point and Tailor went on, leaving Little Nell to bring on -Shackles as soon as possible. The latter two spent many hours in the -grass by the roadside. They made numerous abrupt acquaintances with -passing staff officers, privates, muleteers, many stopping to inquire -the wherefore of the death-faced figure on the ground. Favours were -done often and often, by peer and peasant--small things, of no -consequence, and yet warming. - -It was dark when Shackles and Little Nell had come slowly to where they -could hear the murmur of the army's bivouac. - -"Shack," gasped Little Nell to the man leaning forlornly upon him, "I -guess we'd better bunk down here where we stand." - -"All right, old boy. Anything you say," replied Shackles, in the bass -and hollow voice which arrives with such condition. - -They crawled into some bushes, and distributed their belongings upon -the ground. Little Nell spread out the blankets, and generally played -housemaid. Then they lay down, supperless, being too weary to eat. The -men slept. - -At dawn Little Nell awakened and looked wildly for Shackles, whose -empty blanket was pressed flat like a wet newspaper on the ground. But -at nearly the same moment Shackles appeared, elate. - -"Come on," he cried; "I've rustled an invitation for breakfast." - -Little Nell came on with celerity. - -"Where? Who?" he said. - -"Oh! some officers," replied Shackles airily. If he had been ill the -previous day, he showed it now only in some curious kind of deference -he paid to Little Nell. - -Shackles conducted his comrade, and soon they arrived at where a -captain and his one subaltern arose courteously from where they were -squatting near a fire of little sticks. They wore the wide white -trouser-stripes of infantry officers, and upon the shoulders of their -blue campaign shirts were the little marks of their rank; but otherwise -there was little beyond their manners to render them different from the -men who were busy with breakfast near them. The captain was old, -grizzled--a common type of captain in the tiny American army--overjoyed -at the active service, confident of his business, and yet breathing out -in some way a note of pathos. The war was come too late. Age was -grappling him, and honours were only for his widow and his -children--merely a better life insurance policy. He had spent his life -policing Indians with much labour, cold and heat, but with no glory for -him nor his fellows. All he now could do was to die at the head of his -men. If he had youthfully dreamed of a general's stars, they were now -impossible to him, and he knew it. He was too old to leap so far; his -sole honour was a new invitation to face death. And yet, with his -ambitions lying half-strangled, he was going to take his men into any -sort of holocaust, because his traditions were of gentlemen and -soldiers, and because--he loved it for itself--the thing itself--the -whirl, the unknown. If he had been degraded at that moment to be a -pot-wrestler, no power could have starved him from going through the -campaign as a spectator. Why, the army! It was in each drop of his -blood. - -The lieutenant was very young. Perhaps he had been hurried out of West -Point at the last moment, upon a shortage of officers appearing. To -him, all was opportunity. He was, in fact, in great luck. Instead of -going off in 1898 to grill for an indefinite period on some -God-forgotten heap of red-hot sand in New Mexico, he was here in Cuba, -on real business, with his regiment. When the big engagement came he -was sure to emerge from it either horizontally or at the head of a -company, and what more could a boy ask? He was a very modest lad, and -talked nothing of his frame of mind, but an expression of blissful -contentment was ever upon his face. He really accounted himself the -most fortunate boy of his time; and he felt almost certain that he -would do well. It was necessary to do well. He would do well. - -And yet in many ways these two were alike; the grizzled captain with -his gently mournful countenance--"Too late"--and the elate young second -lieutenant, his commission hardly dry. Here again it was the influence -of the army. After all they were both children of the army. - -It is possible to spring into the future here and chronicle what -happened later. The captain, after thirty-five years of waiting for his -chance, took his Mauser bullet through the brain at the foot of San -Juan Hill in the very beginning of the battle, and the boy arrived on -the crest panting, sweating, but unscratched, and not sure whether he -commanded one company or a whole battalion. Thus fate dealt to the -hosts of Shackles and Little Nell. - -The breakfast was of canned tomatoes stewed with hard bread, more hard -bread, and coffee. It was very good fare, almost royal. Shackles and -Little Nell were absurdly grateful as they felt the hot bitter coffee -tingle in them. But they departed joyfully before the sun was fairly -up, and passed into Siboney. They never saw the captain again. - -The beach at Siboney was furious with traffic, even as had been the -beach at Daqueri. Launches shouted, jack-tars prodded with their -boathooks, and load of men followed load of men. Straight, parade-like, -on the shore stood a trumpeter playing familiar calls to the -troop-horses who swam towards him eagerly through the salt seas. -Crowding closely into the cove were transports of all sizes and ages. -To the left and to the right of the little landing-beach green hills -shot upward like the wings in a theatre. They were scarred here and -there with blockhouses and rifle-pits. Up one hill a regiment was -crawling, seemingly inch by inch. Shackles and Little Nell walked among -palms and scrubby bushes, near pools, over spaces of sand holding -little monuments of biscuit-boxes, ammunition-boxes, and supplies of -all kinds. Some regiment was just collecting itself from the ships, and -the men made great patches of blue on the brown sand. - -Shackles asked a question of a man accidentally: "Where's that regiment -going to?" He pointed to the force that was crawling up the hill. The -man grinned, and said, "They're going to look for a fight!" - -"Looking for a fight!" said Shackles and Little Nell together. They -stared into each other's eyes. Then they set off for the foot of the -hill. The hill was long and toilsome. Below them spread wider and wider -a vista of ships quiet on a grey sea; a busy, black disembarkation-place; -tall, still, green hills; a village of well separated cottages; palms; -a bit of road; soldiers marching. They passed vacant Spanish trenches; -little twelve-foot blockhouses. Soon they were on a fine upland near -the sea. The path, under ordinary conditions, must have been a -beautiful wooded way. It wound in the shade of thickets of fine trees, -then through rank growths of bushes with revealed and fantastic roots, -then through a grassy space which had all the beauty of a neglected -orchard. But always from under their feet scuttled noisy land-crabs, -demons to the nerves, which in some way possessed a semblance of -moon-like faces upon their blue or red bodies, and these faces were -turned with expressions of deepest horror upon Shackles and Little -Nell as they sped to overtake the pugnacious regiment. The route -was paved with coats, hats, tent and blanket rolls, ration-tins, -haversacks--everything but ammunition belts, rifles and canteens. - -They heard a dull noise of voices in front of them--men talking too -loud for the etiquette of the forest--and presently they came upon two -or three soldiers lying by the roadside, flame-faced, utterly spent -from the hurried march in the heat. One man came limping back along the -path. He looked to them anxiously for sympathy and comprehension. "Hurt -m' knee. I swear I couldn't keep up with th' boys. I had to leave 'm. -Wasn't that tough luck?" His collar rolled away from a red, muscular -neck, and his bare forearms were better than stanchions. Yet he was -almost babyishly tearful in his attempt to make the two correspondents -feel that he had not turned back because he was afraid. They gave him -scant courtesy, tinctured with one drop of sympathetic yet cynical -understanding. Soon they overtook the hospital squad; men addressing -chaste language to some pack-mules; a talkative sergeant; two amiable, -cool-eyed young surgeons. Soon they were amid the rear troops of the -dismounted volunteer cavalry regiment which was moving to attack. The -men strode easily along, arguing one to another on ulterior matters. If -they were going into battle, they either did not know it or they -concealed it well. They were more like men going into a bar at one -o'clock in the morning. Their laughter rang through the Cuban woods. -And in the meantime, soft, mellow, sweet, sang the voice of the Cuban -wood-dove, the Spanish guerilla calling to his mate--forest music; on -the flanks, deep back on both flanks, the adorable wood-dove, singing -only of love. Some of the advancing Americans said it was beautiful. It -_was_ beautiful. The Spanish guerilla calling to his mate. What could -be more beautiful? - -Shackles and Little Nell rushed precariously through waist-high bushes -until they reached the centre of the single-filed regiment. The firing -then broke out in front. All the woods set up a hot sputtering; the -bullets sped along the path and across it from both sides. The thickets -presented nothing but dense masses of light green foliage, out of which -these swift steel things were born supernaturally. - -It was a volunteer regiment going into its first action, against an -enemy of unknown force, in a country where the vegetation was thicker -than fur on a cat. There might have been a dreadful mess; but in -military matters the only way to deal with a situation of this kind is -to take it frankly by the throat and squeeze it to death. Shackles and -Little Nell felt the thrill of the orders. "Come ahead, men! Keep right -ahead, men! Come on!" The volunteer cavalry regiment, with all the -willingness in the world, went ahead into the angle of V-shaped Spanish -formation. - -It seemed that every leaf had turned into a soda-bottle and was popping -its cork. Some of the explosions seemed to be against the men's very -faces, others against the backs of their necks. "Now, men! Keep goin' -ahead. Keep on goin'." The forward troops were already engaged. They, -at least, had something at which to shoot. "Now, captain, if you're -ready." "Stop that swearing there." "Got a match?" "Steady, now, men." - -A gate appeared in a barbed-wire fence. Within were billowy fields of -long grass, dotted with palms and luxuriant mango trees. It was -Elysian--a place for lovers, fair as Eden in its radiance of sun, under -its blue sky. One might have expected to see white-robed figures -walking slowly in the shadows. A dead man, with a bloody face, lay -twisted in a curious contortion at the waist. Someone was shot in the -leg, his pins knocked cleanly from under him. - -"Keep goin', men." The air roared, and the ground fled reelingly under -their feet. Light, shadow, trees, grass. Bullets spat from every side. -Once they were in a thicket, and the men, blanched and bewildered, -turned one way, and then another, not knowing which way to turn. "Keep -goin', men." Soon they were in the sunlight again. They could see the -long scant line, which was being drained man by man--one might say drop -by drop. The musketry rolled forth in great full measure from the -magazine carbines. "Keep goin', men." "Christ, I'm shot!" "They're -flankin' us, sir." "We're bein' fired into by our own crowd, sir." -"Keep goin', men." A low ridge before them was a bottling establishment -blowing up in detail. From the right--it seemed at that time to be the -far right--they could hear steady, crashing volleys--the United States -regulars in action. - -Then suddenly--to use a phrase of the street--the whole bottom of the -thing fell out. It was suddenly and mysteriously ended. The Spaniards -had run away, and some of the regulars were chasing them. It was a -victory. - -When the wounded men dropped in the tall grass they quite disappeared, -as if they had sunk in water. Little Nell and Shackles were walking -along through the fields, disputing. - -"Well, damn it, man!" cried Shackles, "we _must_ get a list of the -killed and wounded." - -"That is not nearly so important," quoth little Nell, academically, "as -to get the first account to New York of the first action of the army in -Cuba." - -They came upon Tailor, lying with a bared torso and a small red hole -through his left lung. He was calm, but evidently out of temper. "Good -God, Tailor!" they cried, dropping to their knees like two pagans; "are -you hurt, old boy?" - -"Hurt?" he said gently. "No, 'tis not so deep as a well nor so wide as -a church-door, but 'tis enough, d'you see? You understand, do you? -Idiots!" - -Then he became very official. "Shackles, feel and see what's under my -leg. It's a small stone, or a burr, or something. Don't be clumsy now! -Be careful! Be careful!" Then he said, angrily, "Oh, you didn't find it -at all. Damn it!" - -In reality there was nothing there, and so Shackles could not have -removed it. "Sorry, old boy," he said, meekly. - -"Well, you may observe that I can't stay here more than a year," said -Tailor, with some oratory, "and the hospital people have their own work -in hand. It behoves you, Nell, to fly to Siboney, arrest a despatch -boat, get a cot and some other things, and some minions to carry me. If -I get once down to the base I'm all right, but if I stay here I'm dead. -Meantime Shackles can stay here and try to look as if he liked it." - -There was no disobeying the man. Lying there with a little red hole in -his left lung, he dominated them through his helplessness, and through -their fear that if they angered him he would move and--bleed. - -"Well?" said Little Nell. - -"Yes," said Shackles, nodding. - -Little Nell departed. - -"That blanket you lent me," Tailor called after him, "is back there -somewhere with Point." - -Little Nell noted that many of the men who were wandering among the -wounded seemed so spent with the toil and excitement of their first -action that they could hardly drag one leg after the other. He found -himself suddenly in the same condition, His face, his neck, even his -mouth, felt dry as sun-baked bricks, and his legs were foreign to him. -But he swung desperately into his five-mile task. On the way he passed -many things: bleeding men carried by comrades; others making their way -grimly, with encrimsoned arms; then the little settlement of the -hospital squad; men on the ground everywhere, many in the path; one -young captain dying, with great gasps, his body pale blue, and -glistening, like the inside of a rabbit's skin. But the voice of the -Cuban wood-dove, soft, mellow, sweet, singing only of love, was no -longer heard from the wealth of foliage. - -Presently the hurrying correspondent met another regiment coming to -assist--a line of a thousand men in single file through the jungle. -"Well, how is it going, old man?" "How is it coming on?" "Are we doin' -'em?" Then, after an interval, came other regiments, moving out. He -had to take to the bush to let these long lines pass him, and he was -delayed, and had to flounder amid brambles. But at last, like a -successful pilgrim, he arrived at the brow of the great hill -overlooking Siboney. His practised eye scanned the fine broad brow of -the sea with its clustering ships, but he saw thereon no _Eclipse_ -despatch boats. He zigzagged heavily down the hill, and arrived -finally amid the dust and outcries of the base. He seemed to ask a -thousand men if they had seen an _Eclipse_ boat on the water, or an -_Eclipse_ correspondent on the shore. They all answered, "No." - -He was like a poverty-stricken and unknown suppliant at a foreign -Court. Even his plea got only ill-hearings. He had expected the news of -the serious wounding of Tailor to appal the other correspondents, but -they took it quite calmly. It was as if their sense of an impending -great battle between two large armies had quite got them out of focus -for these minor tragedies. Tailor was hurt--yes? They looked at Little -Nell, dazed. How curious that Tailor should be almost the first--how -_very_ curious--yes. But, as far as arousing them to any enthusiasm of -active pity, it seemed impossible. He was lying up there in the grass, -was he? Too bad, too bad, too bad! - -Little Nell went alone and lay down in the sand with his back against a -rock. Tailor was prostrate up there in the grass. Never mind. Nothing -was to be done. The whole situation was too colossal. Then into his -zone came Walkley the invincible. - -"Walkley!" yelled Little Nell. Walkley came quickly, and Little Nell -lay weakly against his rock and talked. In thirty seconds Walkley -understood everything, had hurled a drink of whisky into Little Nell, -had admonished him to lie quiet, and had gone to organise and -manipulate. When he returned he was a trifle dubious and backward. -Behind him was a singular squad of volunteers from the _Adolphus_, -carrying among them a wire-woven bed. - -"Look here, Nell!" said Walkley, in bashful accents; "I've collected a -battalion here which is willing to go bring Tailor; but--they -say--you--can't you show them where he is?" - -"Yes," said Little Nell, arising. - - * * * * * - -When the party arrived at Siboney, and deposited Tailor in the best -place, Walkley had found a house and stocked it with canned soups. -Therein Shackles and Little Nell revelled for a time, and then rolled -on the floor in their blankets. Little Nell tossed a great deal. "Oh, -I'm so tired. Good God, I'm tired. I'm--tired." - -In the morning a voice aroused them. It was a swollen, important, -circus voice saying, "Where is Mr. Nell? I wish to see him -immediately." - -"Here I am, Rogers," cried Little Nell. - -"Oh, Nell," said Rogers, "here's a despatch to me which I thought you -had better read." - -Little Nell took the despatch. It was: "Tell Nell can't understand his -inaction; tell him come home first steamer from Port Antonio, Jamaica." - - - - -THE REVENGE OF THE ADOLPHUS - - -I - -"Stand by." - -Shackles had come down from the bridge of the _Adolphus_ and flung -this command at three fellow-correspondents who in the galley were -busy with pencils trying to write something exciting and interesting -from four days quiet cruising. They looked up casually. "What for?" -They did not intend to arouse for nothing. Ever since Shackles had -heard the men of the navy directing each other to stand by for this -thing and that thing, he had used the two words as his pet phrase and -was continually telling his friends to stand by. Sometimes its -portentous and emphatic reiteration became highly exasperating and men -were apt to retort sharply. "Well, I _am_ standing by, ain't I?" On -this occasion they detected that he was serious. "Well, what for?" -they repeated. In his answer Shackles was reproachful as well as -impressive. "Stand by? Stand by for a Spanish gunboat. A Spanish -gunboat in chase! Stand by for _two_ Spanish gunboats--_both_ of them -in chase!" - -The others looked at him for a brief space and were almost certain that -they saw truth written upon his countenance. Whereupon they tumbled out -of the galley and galloped up to the bridge. The cook with a mere -inkling of tragedy was now out on deck bawling, "What's the matter? -What's the matter? What's the matter?" Aft, the grimy head of a stoker -was thrust suddenly up through the deck, so to speak. The eyes flashed -in a quick look astern and then the head vanished. The correspondents -were scrambling on the bridge. "Where's my glasses, damn it? Here--let -me take a look. Are they Spaniards, Captain? Are you sure?" - -The skipper of the _Adolphus_ was at the wheel. The pilot-house was so -arranged that he could not see astern without hanging forth from one -of the side windows, but apparently he had made early investigation. -He did not reply at once. At sea, he never replied at once to -questions. At the very first, Shackles had discovered the merits of -this deliberate manner and had taken delight in it. He invariably -detailed his talk with the captain to the other correspondents. "Look -here. I've just been to see the skipper. I said 'I would like to put -into Cape Haytien.' Then he took a little think. Finally he said: 'All -right.' Then I said: 'I suppose we'll need to take on more coal -there?' He took another little think. I said: 'Ever ran into that port -before?' He took another little think. Finally he said: 'Yes.' I said -'Have a cigar?' He took another little think. See? There's where I -fooled 'im----" - -While the correspondents spun the hurried questions at him, the -captain of the _Adolphus_ stood with his brown hands on the wheel and -his cold glance aligned straight over the bow of his ship. - -"Are they Spanish gunboats, Captain? Are they, Captain?" - -After a profound pause, he said: "Yes." The four correspondents hastily -and in perfect time presented their backs to him and fastened their -gaze on the pursuing foe. They saw a dull grey curve of sea going to -the feet of the high green and blue coast-line of north-eastern Cuba, -and on this sea were two miniature ships with clouds of iron-coloured -smoke pouring from their funnels. - -One of the correspondents strolled elaborately to the pilot-house. -"Aw--Captain," he drawled, "do you think they can catch us?" - -The captain's glance was still aligned over the bow of his ship. -Ultimately he answered: "I don't know." - -From the top of the little _Adolphus'_ stack, thick dark smoke swept -level for a few yards and then went rolling to leaward in great hot -obscuring clouds. From time to time the grimy head was thrust through -the deck, the eyes took the quick look astern and then the head -vanished. The cook was trying to get somebody to listen to him. "Well, -you know, damn it all, it won't be no fun to be ketched by them -Spaniards. Be-Gawd, it won't. Look here, what do you think they'll do -to us, hey? Say, I don't like this, you know. I'm damned if I do." The -sea, cut by the hurried bow of the _Adolphus_, flung its waters astern -in the formation of a wide angle and the lines of the angle ruffled -and hissed as they fled, while the thumping screw tormented the water -at the stern. The frame of the steamer underwent regular convulsions -as in the strenuous sobbing of a child. - -The mate was standing near the pilot-house. Without looking at him, the -captain spoke his name. "Ed!" - -"Yes, sir," cried the mate with alacrity. - -The captain reflected for a moment. Then he said: "Are they gainin' on -us?" - -The mate took another anxious survey of the race. "No--o--yes, I think -they are--a little." - -After a pause the captain said: "Tell the chief to shake her up more." - -The mate, glad of an occupation in these tense minutes, flew down to -the engine-room door. "Skipper says shake 'er up more!" he bawled. The -head of the chief engineer appeared, a grizzly head now wet with oil -and sweat. "What?" he shouted angrily. It was as if he had been -propelling the ship with his own arms. Now he was told that his best -was not good enough. "What? shake 'er up more? Why she can't carry -another pound, I tell you! Not another ounce! We----" Suddenly he ran -forward and climbed to the bridge. "Captain," he cried in the loud -harsh voice of one who lived usually amid the thunder of machinery, -"she can't do it, sir! Be-Gawd, she can't! She's turning over now -faster than she ever did in her life and we'll all blow to hell----" - -The low-toned, impassive voice of the captain suddenly checked the -chief's clamour. "I'll blow her up," he said, "but I won't git ketched -if I kin help it." Even then the listening correspondents found a -second in which to marvel that the captain had actually explained his -point of view to another human being. - -The engineer stood blank. Then suddenly he cried: "All right, sir!" He -threw a hurried look of despair at the correspondents, the deck of the -_Adolphus_, the pursuing enemy, Cuba, the sky and the sea; he vanished -in the direction of his post. - -A correspondent was suddenly regifted with the power of prolonged -speech. "Well, you see, the game is up, damn it. See? We can't get out -of it. The skipper will blow up the whole bunch before he'll let his -ship be taken, and the Spaniards are gaining. Well, that's what comes -from going to war in an eight-knot tub." He bitterly accused himself, -the others, and the dark, sightless, indifferent world. - -This certainty of coming evil affected each one differently. One was -made garrulous; one kept absent-mindedly snapping his fingers and -gazing at the sea; another stepped nervously to and fro, looking -everywhere as if for employment for his mind. As for Shackles he was -silent and smiling, but it was a new smile that caused the lines about -his mouth to betray quivering weakness. And each man looked at the -others to discover their degree of fear and did his best to conceal his -own, holding his crackling nerves with all his strength. - -As the _Adolphus_ rushed on, the sun suddenly emerged from behind grey -clouds and its rays dealt titanic blows so that in a few minutes the -sea was a glowing blue plain with the golden shine dancing at the tips -of the waves. The coast of Cuba glowed with light. The pursuers -displayed detail after detail in the new atmosphere. The voice of the -cook was heard in high vexation. "Am I to git dinner as usual? How do -I know? Nobody tells me what to do? Am I to git dinner as usual?" - -The mate answered ferociously. "Of course you are! What do you s'pose? -Ain't you the cook, you damn fool?" - -The cook retorted in a mutinous scream. "Well, how would I know? If -this ship is goin' to blow up----" - - -II - -The captain called from the pilot-house. "Mr. Shackles! Oh, Mr. -Shackles!" The correspondent moved hastily to a window. "What is it, -Captain?" The skipper of the _Adolphus_ raised a battered finger and -pointed over the bows. "See 'er?" he asked, laconic but quietly -jubilant. Another steamer was smoking at full speed over the sun-lit -seas. A great billow of pure white was on her bows. "Great Scott!" -cried Shackles. "Another Spaniard?" - -"No," said the captain, "that there is a United States cruiser!" - -"What?" Shackles was dumfounded into muscular paralysis. "No! Are you -_sure_?" - -The captain nodded. "Sure, take the glass. See her ensign? Two funnels, -two masts with fighting tops. She ought to be the _Chancellorville_." - -Shackles choked. "Well, I'm blowed!" - -"Ed!" said the captain. - -"Yessir!" - -"Tell the chief there is no hurry." - -Shackles suddenly bethought him of his companions. He dashed to them -and was full of quick scorn of their gloomy faces. "Hi, brace up there! -Are you blind? Can't you see her?" - -"See what?" - -"Why, the _Chancellorville_, you blind mice!" roared Shackles. "See -'er? See 'er? See 'er?" - -The others sprang, saw, and collapsed. Shackles was a madman for the -purpose of distributing the news. "Cook!" he shrieked. "Don't you see -'er, cook? Good Gawd, man, don't you see 'er?" He ran to the lower deck -and howled his information everywhere. Suddenly the whole ship smiled. -Men clapped each other on the shoulder and joyously shouted. The -captain thrust his head from the pilot-house to look back at the -Spanish ships. Then he looked at the American cruiser. "Now, we'll -see," he said grimly and vindictively to the mate. "Guess somebody else -will do some running," the mate chuckled. - -The two gunboats were still headed hard for the _Adolphus_ and she -kept on her way. The American cruiser was coming swiftly. "It's the -_Chancellorville_!" cried Shackles. "I know her! We'll see a fight -at sea, my boys! A fight at sea!" The enthusiastic correspondents -pranced in Indian revels. - -The _Chancellorville_--2000 tons--18.6 knots--10 five-inch guns--came -on tempestuously, sheering the water high with her sharp bow. From her -funnels the smoke raced away in driven sheets. She loomed with -extraordinary rapidity like a ship bulging and growing out of the sea. -She swept by the _Adolphus_ so close that one could have thrown a -walnut on board. She was a glistening grey apparition with a blood-red -water-line, with brown gun-muzzles and white-clothed motionless -jack-tars; and in her rush she was silent, deadly silent. Probably -there entered the mind of every man on board the _Adolphus_ a feeling -of almost idolatry for this living thing, stern but, to their thought, -incomparably beautiful. They would have cheered but that each man -seemed to feel that a cheer would be too puny a tribute. - -It was at first as if she did not see the _Adolphus_. She was going to -pass without heeding this little vagabond of the high-seas. But -suddenly a megaphone gaped over the rail of her bridge and a voice was -heard measuredly, calmly intoning. "Hello--there! Keep--well--to-- -the--north'ard--and--out of my--way--and I'll--go--in--and--see-- -what--those--people--want----" Then nothing was heard but the swirl of -water. In a moment the _Adolphus_ was looking at a high grey stern. On -the quarter-deck, sailors were poised about the breach of the -after-pivot-gun. - -The correspondents were revelling. "Captain," yelled Shackles, "we -can't miss this! We must see it!" But the skipper had already flung -over the wheel. "Sure," he answered almost at once. "We can't miss it." - -The cook was arrogantly, grossly triumphant. His voice rang along the -deck. "There, now! How will the Spinachers like that? Now, it's our -turn! We've been doin' the runnin' away but now we'll do the chasin'!" -Apparently feeling some twinge of nerves from the former strain, he -suddenly demanded: "Say, who's got any whisky? I'm near dead for a -drink." - -When the _Adolphus_ came about, she laid her course for a position to -the northward of a coming battle, but the situation suddenly became -complicated. When the Spanish ships discovered the identity of the ship -that was steaming toward them, they did not hesitate over their plan of -action. With one accord they turned and ran for port. Laughter arose -from the _Adolphus_. The captain broke his orders, and, instead of -keeping to the northward, he headed in the wake of the impetuous -_Chancellorville_. The correspondents crowded on the bow. - -The Spaniards when their broadsides became visible were seen to be -ships of no importance, mere little gunboats for work in the shallows -back of the reefs, and it was certainly discreet to refuse encounter -with the five-inch guns of the _Chancellorville_. But the joyful -_Adolphus_ took no account of this discretion. The pursuit of the -Spaniards had been so ferocious that the quick change to heels-overhead -flight filled that corner of the mind which is devoted to the spirit of -revenge. It was this that moved Shackles to yell taunts futilely at the -far-away ships. "Well, how do you like it, eh? How do you like it?" The -_Adolphus_ was drinking compensation for her previous agony. - -The mountains of the shore now shadowed high into the sky and the -square white houses of a town could be seen near a vague cleft which -seemed to mark the entrance to a port. The gunboats were now near to -it. - -Suddenly white smoke streamed from the bow of the _Chancellorville_ and -developed swiftly into a great bulb which drifted in fragments down the -wind. Presently the deep-throated boom of the gun came to the ears on -board the _Adolphus_. The shot kicked up a high jet of water into the -air astern of the last gunboat. The black smoke from the funnels of the -cruiser made her look like a collier on fire, and in her desperation -she tried many more long shots, but presently the _Adolphus_, murmuring -disappointment, saw the _Chancellorville_ sheer from the chase. - -In time they came up with her and she was an indignant ship. Gloom -and wrath was on the forecastle and wrath and gloom was on the -quarter-deck. A sad voice from the bridge said: "Just missed 'em." -Shackles gained permission to board the cruiser, and in the cabin, he -talked to Lieutenant-Commander Surrey, tall, bald-headed and angry. -"Shoals," said the captain of the _Chancellorville_. "I can't go any -nearer and those gunboats could steam along a stone sidewalk if only it -was wet." Then his bright eyes became brighter. "I tell you what! The -_Chicken_, the _Holy Moses_ and the _Mongolian_ are on station off -Nuevitas. If you will do me a favour--why, to-morrow I will give those -people a game!" - - -III - -The _Chancellorville_ lay all night watching off the port of the two -gunboats and, soon after daylight, the lookout descried three smokes to -the westward and they were later made out to be the _Chicken_, the -_Holy Moses_ and the _Adolphus_, the latter tagging hurriedly after the -United States vessels. - -The _Chicken_ had been a harbour tug but she was now the U.S.S. -_Chicken_, by your leave. She carried a six-pounder forward and a -six-pounder aft and her main point was her conspicuous vulnerability. -The _Holy Moses_ had been the private yacht of a Philadelphia -millionaire. She carried six six-pounders and her main point was the -chaste beauty of the officer's quarters. - -On the bridge of the _Chancellorville_, Lieutenant-Commander Surrey -surveyed his squadron with considerable satisfaction. Presently he -signalled to the lieutenant who commanded the _Holy Moses_ and to the -boatswain who commanded the _Chicken_ to come aboard the flag-ship. -This was all very well for the captain of the yacht, but it was not so -easy for the captain of the tug-boat who had two heavy lifeboats swung -fifteen feet above the water. He had been accustomed to talking with -senior officers from his own pilot house through the intercession of -the blessed megaphone. However he got a lifeboat overside and was -pulled to the _Chancellorville_ by three men--which cut his crew almost -into halves. - -In the cabin of the _Chancellorville_, Surrey disclosed to his two -captains his desires concerning the Spanish gunboats and they were glad -for being ordered down from the Nuevitas station where life was very -dull. He also announced that there was a shore battery containing, he -believed, four field guns--three-point-twos. His draught--he spoke of -it as _his_ draught--would enable him to go in close enough to engage -the battery at moderate range, but he pointed out that the main parts -of the attempt to destroy the Spanish gunboats must be left to the -_Holy Moses_ and the _Chicken_. His business, he thought, could only be -to keep the air so singing about the ears of the battery that the men -at the guns would be unable to take an interest in the dash of the -smaller American craft into the bay. - -The officers spoke in their turns. The captain of the _Chicken_ -announced that he saw no difficulties. The squadron would follow the -senior officer in line ahead, the _S. O._ would engage the batteries as -soon as possible, she would turn to starboard when the depth of water -forced her to do so and the _Holy Moses_ and the _Chicken_ would run -past her into the bay and fight the Spanish ships wherever they were -to be found. The captain of the _Holy Moses_ after some moments of -dignified thought said that he had no suggestions to make that would -better this plan. - -Surrey pressed an electric bell; a marine orderly appeared; he was sent -with a message. The message brought the navigating officer of the -_Chancellorville_ to the cabin and the four men nosed over a chart. - -In the end Surrey declared that he had made up his mind and the juniors -remained in expectant silence for three minutes while he stared at the -bulkhead. Then he said that the plan of the _Chicken's_ captain seemed -to him correct in the main. He would make one change. It was that he -should first steam in and engage the battery and the other vessels -should remain in their present positions until he signalled them to run -into the bay. If the squadron steamed ahead in line, the battery could, -if it chose, divide its fire between the cruiser and the gunboats -constituting the more important attack. He had no doubt, he said, that -he could soon silence the battery by tumbling the earth-works on to the -guns and driving away the men even if he did not succeed in hitting the -pieces. Of course he had no doubt of being able to silence the battery -in twenty minutes. Then he would signal for the _Holy Moses_ and the -_Chicken_ to make their rush, and of course he would support them with -his fire as much as conditions enabled him. He arose then indicating -that the conference was at an end. In the few moments more that all -four men remained in the cabin, the talk changed its character -completely. It was now unofficial, and the sharp badinage concealed -furtive affections, Academy friendships, the feelings of old-time -ship-mates, hiding everything under a veil of jokes. "Well, good luck -to you, old boy! Don't get that valuable packet of yours sunk under -you. Think how it would weaken the navy. Would you mind buying me three -pairs of pajamas in the town yonder? If your engines get disabled, tote -her under your arm. You can do it. Good-bye, old man, don't forget to -come out all right----" - -When the captains of the _Chicken_ and the _Chicken_ emerged from the -cabin, they strode the deck with a new step. They were proud men. The -marine on duty above their boats looked at them curiously and with awe. -He detected something which meant action, conflict, The boats' crews -saw it also. As they pulled their steady stroke, they studied -fleetingly the face of the officer in the stern sheets. In both cases -they perceived a glad man and yet a man filled with a profound -consideration of the future. - - -IV - -A bird-like whistle stirred the decks of the _Chancellorville_. It was -followed by the hoarse bellowing of the boatswain's mate. As the cruiser -turned her bow toward the shore, she happened to steam near the _Adolphus_. -The usual calm voice hailed the despatch boat. "Keep--that--gauze -under-shirt of yours--well--out of the--line of fire." - -"Ay, ay, sir!" - -The cruiser then moved slowly toward the shore, watched by every eye in -the smaller American vessels. She was deliberate and steady, and this -was reasonable even to the impatience of the other craft because the -wooded shore was likely to suddenly develop new factors. Slowly she -swung to starboard; smoke belched over her and the roar of a gun came -along the water. - -The battery was indicated by a long thin streak of yellow earth. The -first shot went high, ploughing the chaparral on the hillside. The -_Chancellorville_ wore an air for a moment of being deep in meditation. -She flung another shell, which landed squarely on the earth-work, -making a great dun cloud. Before the smoke had settled, there was a -crimson flash from the battery. To the watchers at sea, it was smaller -than a needle. The shot made a geyser of crystal water, four hundred -yards from the _Chancellorville_. - -The cruiser, having made up her mind, suddenly went at the battery, -hammer and tongs. She moved to and fro casually, but the thunder of her -guns was gruff and angry. Sometimes she was quite hidden in her own -smoke, but with exceeding regularity the earth of the battery spurted -into the air. The Spanish shells, for the most part, went high and wide -of the cruiser, jetting the water far away. - -Once a Spanish gunner took a festive side-show chance at the waiting -group of the three nondescripts. It went like a flash over the -_Adolphus_, singing a wistful metallic note. Whereupon the _Adolphus_ -broke hurriedly for the open sea, and men on the _Holy Moses_ and the -_Chicken_ laughed hoarsely and cruelly. The correspondents had been -standing excitedly on top of the pilot-house, but at the passing of the -shell, they promptly eliminated themselves by dropping with a thud to -the deck below. The cook again was giving tongue. "Oh, say, this won't -do! I'm damned if it will! We ain't no armoured cruiser, you know. If -one of them shells hits us--well, we finish right there. 'Tain't like -as if it was our _business_, foolin' 'round within the range of them -guns. There's no sense in it. Them other fellows don't seem to mind it, -but it's their _business_. If it's your _business_, you go ahead and do -it, but if it ain't, you--look at that, would you!" - -The _Chancellorville_ had sent up a spread of flags, and the _Holy -Moses_ and the _Chicken_ were steaming in. - - -V - -They, on the _Chancellorville_, sometimes could see into the bay, -and they perceived the enemy's gunboats moving out as if to give -battle. Surrey feared that this impulse would not endure or that -it was some mere pretence for the edification of the town's people -and the garrison, so he hastily signalled the _Holy Moses_ and the -_Chicken_ to go in. Thankful for small favours, they came on like -charging bantams. The battery had ceased firing. As the two auxiliaries -passed under the stern of the cruiser, the megaphone hailed them. -"You--will--see--the--en--em--y--soon--as--you--round--the--point. -A--fine--chance. Good--luck." - -As a matter of fact, the Spanish gunboats had not been informed of the -presence of the _Holy Moses_ and the _Chicken_ off the bar, and they -were just blustering down the bay over the protective shoals to make it -appear that they scorned the _Chancellorville_. But suddenly, from -around the point, there burst into view a steam yacht, closely followed -by a harbour tug. The gunboats took one swift look at this horrible -sight and fled screaming. - -Lieutenant Reigate, commanding the _Holy Moses_, had under his feet a -craft that was capable of some speed, although before a solemn -tribunal, one would have to admit that she conscientiously belied -almost everything that the contractors had said of her, originally. -Boatswain Pent, commanding the _Chicken_, was in possession of an -utterly different kind. The _Holy Moses_ was an antelope; the _Chicken_ -was a man who could carry a piano on his back. In this race Pent had -the mortification of seeing his vessel outstripped badly. - -The entrance of the two American craft had had a curious effect upon -the shores of the bay. Apparently everyone had slept in the assurance -that the _Chancellorville_ could not cross the bar, and that the -_Chancellorville_ was the only hostile ship. Consequently, the -appearance of the _Holy Moses_ and the _Chicken_, created a curious and -complete emotion. Reigate, on the bridge of the _Holy Moses_, laughed -when he heard the bugles shrilling and saw through his glasses the wee -figures of men running hither and thither on the shore. It was the -panic of the china when the bull entered the shop. The whole bay was -bright with sun. Every detail of the shore was plain. From a brown hut -abeam of the _Holy Moses_, some little men ran out waving their arms -and turning their tiny faces to look at the enemy. Directly ahead, some -four miles, appeared the scattered white houses of a town with a wharf, -and some schooners in front of it. The gunboats were making for the -town. There was a stone fort on the hill overshadowing, but Reigate -conjectured that there was no artillery in it. - -There was a sense of something intimate and impudent in the minds of -the Americans. It was like climbing over a wall and fighting a man in -his own garden. It was not that they could be in any wise shaken in -their resolve; it was simply that the overwhelmingly Spanish aspect of -things made them feel like gruff intruders. Like many of the emotions -of war-time, this emotion had nothing at all to do with war. - -Reigate's only commissioned subordinate called up from the bow gun. -"May I open fire, sir? I think I can fetch that last one." - -"Yes." Immediately the six-pounder crashed, and in the air was the -spinning-wire noise of the flying shot. It struck so close to the last -gunboat that it appeared that the spray went aboard. The swift-handed -men at the gun spoke of it. "Gave 'm a bath that time anyhow. First one -they've ever had. Dry 'em off this time, Jim." The young ensign said: -"Steady." And so the _Holy Moses_ raced in, firing, until the whole -town, fort, waterfront, and shipping were as plain as if they had been -done on paper by a mechanical draftsman. The gunboats were trying to -hide in the bosom of the town. One was frantically tying up to the -wharf and the other was anchoring within a hundred yards of the shore. -The Spanish infantry, of course, had dug trenches along the beach, and -suddenly the air over the _Holy Moses_ sung with bullets. The -shore-line thrummed with musketry. Also some antique shells screamed. - - -VI - -The _Chicken_ was doing her best. Pent's posture at the wheel seemed to -indicate that her best was about thirty-four knots. In his eagerness he -was braced as if he alone was taking in a 10,000 ton battleship through -Hell Gate. - -But the _Chicken_ was not too far in the rear and Pent could see -clearly that he was to have no minor part to play. Some of the antique -shells had struck the _Holy Moses_ and he could see the escaped steam -shooting up from her. She lay close inshore and was lashing out with -four six-pounders as if this was the last opportunity she would have to -fire them. She had made the Spanish gunboats very sick. A solitary gun -on the one moored to the wharf was from time to time firing wildly; -otherwise the gunboats were silent. But the beach in front of the town -was a line of fire. The _Chicken_ headed for the _Holy Moses_ and, as -soon as possible, the six-pounder in her bow began to crack at the -gunboat moored to the wharf. - -In the meantime, the _Chancellorville_ prowled off the bar, listening -to the firing, anxious, acutely anxious, and feeling her impotency in -every inch of her smart steel frame. And in the meantime, the -_Adolphus_ squatted on the waves and brazenly waited for news. One -could thoughtfully count the seconds and reckon that, in this second -and that second, a man had died--if one chose. But no one did it. -Undoubtedly, the spirit was that the flag should come away with honour, -honour complete, perfect, leaving no loose unfinished end over which -the Spaniards could erect a monument of satisfaction, glorification. -The distant guns boomed to the ears of the silent blue-jackets at their -stations on the cruiser. - -The _Chicken_ steamed up to the _Holy Moses_ and took into her nostrils -the odour of steam, gunpowder and burnt things. Rifle bullets simply -steamed over them both. In the merest flash of time, Pent took into his -remembrance the body of a dead quartermaster on the bridge of his -consort. The two megaphones uplifted together, but Pent's eager voice -cried out first. "Are you injured, sir?" - -"No, not completely. My engines can get me out after--after we have -sunk those gunboats." The voice had been utterly conventional but it -changed to sharpness. "Go in and sink that gunboat at anchor." - -As the _Chicken_ rounded the _Holy Moses_ and started inshore, a man -called to him from the depths of finished disgust. "They're takin' to -their boats, sir." Pent looked and saw the men of the anchored gunboat -lower their boats and pull like mad for shore. - -The _Chicken_, assisted by the _Holy Moses_, began a methodical -killing of the anchored gunboat. The Spanish infantry on shore fired -frenziedly at the _Chicken_. Pent, giving the wheel to a waiting sailor, -stepped out to a point where he could see the men at the guns. One -bullet spanged past him and into the pilot-house. He ducked his head -into the window. "That hit you, Murry?" he inquired with interest. - -"No, sir," cheerfully responded the man at the wheel. - -Pent became very busy superintending the fire of his absurd battery. -The anchored gunboat simply would not sink. It evinced that unnatural -stubbornness which is sometimes displayed by inanimate objects. The -gunboat at the wharf had sunk as if she had been scuttled but this -riddled thing at anchor would not even take fire. Pent began to grow -flurried--privately. He could not stay there for ever. Why didn't the -damned gunboat admit its destruction. Why---- - -He was at the forward gun when one of his engine room force came to him -and, after saluting, said serenely: "The men at the after-gun are all -down, sir." - -It was one of those curious lifts which an enlisted man, without in any -way knowing it, can give his officer. The impudent tranquillity of the -man at once set Pent to rights and the stoker departed admiring the -extraordinary coolness of his captain. - -The next few moments contained little but heat, an odour, applied -mechanics and an expectation of death. Pent developed a fervid and -amazed appreciation of the men, his men, men he knew very well, but -strange men. What explained them? He was doing his best because he was -captain of the _Chicken_ and he lived or died by the _Chicken_. But -what could move these men to watch his eye in bright anticipation of -his orders and then obey them with enthusiastic rapidity? What caused -them to speak of the action as some kind of a joke--particularly when -they knew he could overhear them? What manner of men? And he anointed -them secretly with his fullest affection. - -Perhaps Pent did not think all this during the battle. Perhaps he -thought it so soon after the battle that his full mind became confused -as to the time. At any rate, it stands as an expression of his feeling. - -The enemy had gotten a field-gun down to the shore and with it they -began to throw three-inch shells at the _Chicken_. In this war it was -usual that the down-trodden Spaniards in their ignorance should use -smokeless powder while the Americans, by the power of the consistent -everlasting three-ply, wire-woven, double back-action imbecility of a -hay-seed government, used powder which on sea and on land cried their -position to heaven, and, accordingly, good men got killed without -reason. At first, Pent could not locate the field-gun at all, but as -soon as he found it, he ran aft with one man and brought the after -six-pounder again into action. He paid little heed to the old gun crew. -One was lying on his face apparently dead; another was prone with a -wound in the chest, while the third sat with his back to the deck-house -holding a smitten arm. This last one called out huskily, "Give'm hell, -sir." - -The minutes of the battle were either days, years, or they were flashes -of a second. Once Pent looking up was astonished to see three shell -holes in the _Chicken's_ funnel--made surreptitiously, so to speak.... -"If we don't silence that field-gun, she'll sink us, boys." ... The -eyes of the man sitting with his back against the deck-house were -looking from out his ghastly face at the new gun-crew. He spoke with -the supreme laziness of a wounded man. "Give'm hell." ... Pent felt a -sudden twist of his shoulder. He was wounded--slightly.... The anchored -gunboat was in flames. - - -VII - -Pent took his little blood-stained tow-boat out to the _Holy Moses_. -The yacht was already under way for the bay entrance. As they were -passing out of range the Spaniards heroically redoubled their -fire--which is their custom. Pent, moving busily about the decks, -stopped suddenly at the door of the engine-room. His face was set and -his eyes were steely. He spoke to one of the engineers. "During the -action I saw you firing at the enemy with a rifle. I told you once to -stop, and then I saw you at it again. Pegging away with a rifle is no -part of your business. I want you to understand that you are in -trouble." The humbled man did not raise his eyes from the deck. -Presently the _Holy Moses_ displayed an anxiety for the _Chicken's_ -health. - -"One killed and four wounded, sir." - -"Have you enough men left to work your ship?" - -After deliberation, Pent answered: "No, sir." - -"Shall I send you assistance?" - -"No, sir. I can get to sea all right." - -As they neared the point they were edified by the sudden appearance of -a serio-comic ally. The _Chancellorville_ at last had been unable to -stand the strain, and had sent in her launch with an ensign, five -seamen and a number of marksmen marines. She swept hot-foot around the -point, bent on terrible slaughter; the one-pounder of her bow presented -a formidable appearance. The _Holy Moses_ and the _Chicken_ laughed -until they brought indignation to the brow of the young ensign. But he -forgot it when with some of his men he boarded the _Chicken_ to do what -was possible for the wounded. The nearest surgeon was aboard the -_Chancellorville_. There was absolute silence on board the cruiser as -the _Holy Moses_ steamed up to report. The blue-jackets listened with -all their ears. The commander of the yacht spoke slowly into his -megaphone: "We have--destroyed--the two--gun-boats--sir." There was a -burst of confused cheering on the forecastle of the _Chancellorville_, -but an officer's cry quelled it. - -"Very--good. Will--you--come aboard?" - -Two correspondents were already on the deck of the cruiser. Before the -last of the wounded were hoisted aboard the cruiser the _Adolphus_ was -on her way to Key West. When she arrived at that port of desolation -Shackles fled to file the telegrams and the other correspondents fled -to the hotel for clothes, good clothes, clean clothes; and food, good -food, much food; and drink, much drink, any kind of drink. - -Days afterward, when the officers of the noble squadron received the -newspapers containing an account of their performance, they looked at -each other somewhat dejectedly: "Heroic assault--grand daring of -Boatswain Pent--superb accuracy of the _Holy Moses'_ fire--gallant -tars of the _Chicken_--their names should be remembered as long as -America stands--terrible losses of the enemy----" - -When the Secretary of the Navy ultimately read the report of Commander -Surrey, S.O.P., he had to prick himself with a dagger in order to -remember that anything at all out of the ordinary had occurred. - - - - -THE SERGEANT'S PRIVATE MADHOUSE - - -The moonlight was almost steady blue flame and all this radiance was -lavished out upon a still lifeless wilderness of stunted trees and -cactus plants. The shadows lay upon the ground, pools of black and -sharply outlined, resembling substances, fabrics, and not shadows at -all. From afar came the sound of the sea coughing among the hollows in -the coral rock. - -The land was very empty; one could easily imagine that Cuba was a -simple vast solitude; one could wonder at the moon taking all the -trouble of this splendid illumination. There was no wind; nothing -seemed to live. - -But in a particular large group of shadows lay an outpost of some forty -United States marines. If it had been possible to approach them from -any direction without encountering one of their sentries, one could -have gone stumbling among sleeping men and men who sat waiting, their -blankets tented over their heads; one would have been in among them -before one's mind could have decided whether they were men or devils. -If a marine moved, he took the care and the time of one who walks -across a death-chamber. The lieutenant in command reached for his watch -and the nickel chain gave forth the faintest tinkling sound. He could -see the glistening five or six pairs of eyes that slowly turned to -regard him. His sergeant lay near him and he bent his face down to -whisper. "Who's on post behind the big cactus plant?" - -"Dryden," rejoined the sergeant just over his breath. - -After a pause the lieutenant murmured: "He's got too many nerves. I -shouldn't have put him there." The sergeant asked if he should crawl -down and look into affairs at Dryden's post. The young officer nodded -assent and the sergeant, softly cocking his rifle, went away on his -hands and knees. The lieutenant with his back to a dwarf tree, sat -watching the sergeant's progress for the few moments that he could see -him moving from one shadow to another. Afterward, the officer waited to -hear Dryden's quick but low-voiced challenge, but time passed and no -sound came from the direction of the post behind the cactus bush. - -The sergeant, as he came nearer and nearer to this cactus bush--a -number of peculiarly dignified columns throwing shadows of inky -darkness--had slowed his pace, for he did not wish to trifle with the -feelings of the sentry, and he was expecting the stern hail and was -ready with the immediate answer which turns away wrath. He was not made -anxious by the fact that he could not yet see Dryden, for he knew that -the man would be hidden in a way practised by sentry marines since the -time when two men had been killed by a disease of excessive confidence -on picket. Indeed, as the sergeant went still nearer, he became more -and more angry. Dryden was evidently a most proper sentry. - -Finally he arrived at a point where he could see Dryden seated in the -shadow, staring into the bushes ahead of him, his rifle ready on his -knee. The sergeant in his rage longed for the peaceful precincts of the -Washington Marine Barracks where there would have been no situation to -prevent the most complete non-commissioned oratory. He felt indecent in -his capacity of a man able to creep up to the back of a G Company -member on guard duty. Never mind; in the morning back at camp---- - -But, suddenly, he felt afraid. There was something wrong with Dryden. -He remembered old tales of comrades creeping out to find a picket -seated against a tree perhaps, upright enough but stone dead. The -sergeant paused and gave the inscrutable back of the sentry a long -stare. Dubious he again moved forward. At three paces, he hissed like a -little snake. Dryden did not show a sign of hearing. At last, the -sergeant was in a position from which he was able to reach out and -touch Dryden on the arm. Whereupon was turned to him the face of a man -livid with mad fright. The sergeant grabbed him by the wrist and with -discreet fury shook him. "Here! Pull yourself together!" - -Dryden paid no heed but turned his wild face from the newcomer to the -ground in front. "Don't you see 'em, sergeant? Don't you see 'em?" - -"Where?" whispered the sergeant. - -"Ahead, and a little on the right flank. A reg'lar skirmish line. Don't -you see 'em?" - -"Naw," whispered the sergeant. Dryden began to shake. He began moving -one hand from his head to his knee and from his knee to his head -rapidly, in a way that is without explanation. "I don't dare fire," he -wept. "If I do they'll see me, and oh, how they'll pepper me!" - -The sergeant lying on his belly, understood one thing. Dryden had gone -mad. Dryden was the March Hare. The old man gulped down his uproarious -emotions as well as he was able and used the most simple device. "Go," -he said, "and tell the lieutenant while I cover your post for you." - -"No! They'd see me! They'd see me! And then they'd pepper me! O, how -they'd pepper me!" - -The sergeant was face to face with the biggest situation of his life. -In the first place he knew that at night a large or small force of -Spanish guerillas was never more than easy rifle range from any marine -outpost, both sides maintaining a secrecy as absolute as possible in -regard to their real position and strength. Everything was on a -watch-spring foundation. A loud word might be paid for by a -night-attack which would involve five hundred men who needed their -earned sleep, not to speak of some of them who would need their lives. -The slip of a foot and the rolling of a pint of gravel might go from -consequence to consequence until various crews went to general quarters -on their ships in the harbour, their batteries booming as the swift -search-light flashes tore through the foliage. Men would get -killed--notably the sergeant and Dryden--and outposts would be cut off -and the whole night would be one pitiless turmoil. And so Sergeant -George H. Peasley began to run his private madhouse behind the -cactus-bush. - -"Dryden," said the sergeant, "you do as I tell you and go tell the -lieutenant." - -"I don't dare move," shivered the man. "They'll see me if I move. -They'll see me. They're almost up now. Let's hide----" - -"Well, then you stay here a moment and I'll go and----" - -Dryden turned upon him a look so tigerish that the old man felt his -hair move. "Don't you stir," he hissed. "You want to give me away. You -want them to see me. Don't you stir." The sergeant decided not to stir. - -He became aware of the slow wheeling of eternity, its majestic -incomprehensibility of movement. Seconds, minutes, were quaint little -things, tangible as toys, and there were billions of them, all alike. -"Dryden," he whispered at the end of a century in which, curiously, he -had never joined the marine corps at all but had taken to another walk -of life and prospered greatly in it. "Dryden, this is all foolishness." -He thought of the expedient of smashing the man over the head with his -rifle, but Dryden was so supernaturally alert that there surely would -issue some small scuffle and there could be not even the fraction of a -scuffle. The sergeant relapsed into the contemplation of another -century. - -His patient had one fine virtue. He was in such terror of the phantom -skirmish line that his voice never went above a whisper, whereas his -delusion might have expressed itself in hyena yells and shots from his -rifle. The sergeant, shuddering, had visions of how it might have -been--the mad private leaping into the air and howling and shooting at -his friends and making them the centre of the enemy's eager attention. -This, to his mind, would have been conventional conduct for a maniac. -The trembling victim of an idea was somewhat puzzling. The sergeant -decided that from time to time he would reason with his patient. "Look -here, Dryden, you don't see any real Spaniards. You've been drinking -or--something. Now----" - -But Dryden only glared him into silence. Dryden was inspired with such -a profound contempt of him that it was become hatred. "Don't you stir!" -And it was clear that if the sergeant did stir, the mad private would -introduce calamity. "Now," said Peasley to himself, "if those guerillas -_should_ take a crack at us to-night, they'd find a lunatic asylum -right in the front and it would be astonishing." - -The silence of the night was broken by the quick low voice of a sentry -to the left some distance. The breathless stillness brought an effect -to the words as if they had been spoken in one's ear. - -"_Halt--who's there--halt or I'll fire!_" Bang! - -At the moment of sudden attack particularly at night, it is improbable -that a man registers much detail of either thought or action. He may -afterward say: "I was here." He may say: "I was there." "I did this." -"I did that." But there remains a great incoherency because of the -tumultuous thought which seethes through the head. "Is this defeat?" At -night in a wilderness and against skilful foes half-seen, one does not -trouble to ask if it is also Death. Defeat is Death, then, save for the -miraculous. But the exaggerating magnifying first thought subsides in -the ordered mind of the soldier and he knows, soon, what he is doing -and how much of it. The sergeant's immediate impulse had been to -squeeze close to the ground and listen--listen--above all else, listen. -But the next moment he grabbed his private asylum by the scruff of its -neck, jerked it to its feet and started to retreat upon the main -outpost. - -To the left, rifle-flashes were bursting from the shadows. To the rear, -the lieutenant was giving some hoarse order or admonition. Through the -air swept some Spanish bullets, very high, as if they had been fired at -a man in a tree. The private asylum came on so hastily that the -sergeant found he could remove his grip, and soon they were in the -midst of the men of the outpost. Here there was no occasion for -enlightening the lieutenant. In the first place such surprises required -statement, question and answer. It is impossible to get a grossly -original and fantastic idea through a man's head in less than one -minute of rapid talk, and the sergeant knew the lieutenant could not -spare the minute. He himself had no minutes to devote to anything but -the business of the outpost. And the madman disappeared from his pen -and he forgot about him. - -It was a long night and the little fight was as long as the night. It -was a heart-breaking work. The forty marines lay in an irregular oval. -From all sides, the Mauser bullets sang low and hard. Their occupation -was to prevent a rush, and to this end they potted carefully at the -flash of a Mauser--save when they got excited for a moment, in which -case their magazines rattled like a great Waterbury watch. Then they -settled again to a systematic potting. - -The enemy were not of the regular Spanish forces. They were of a corps -of guerillas, native-born Cubans, who preferred the flag of Spain. They -were all men who knew the craft of the woods and were all recruited -from the district. They fought more like red Indians than any people -but the red Indians themselves. Each seemed to possess an -individuality, a fighting individuality, which is only found in the -highest order of irregular soldiers. Personally they were as distinct -as possible, but through equality of knowledge and experience, they -arrived at concert of action. So long as they operated in the -wilderness, they were formidable troops. It mattered little whether it -was daylight or dark; they were mainly invisible. They had schooled -from the Cubans insurgent to Spain. As the Cubans fought the Spanish -troops, so would these particular Spanish troops fight the Americans. -It was wisdom. - -The marines thoroughly understood the game. They must lie close and -fight until daylight when the guerillas promptly would go away. They -had withstood other nights of this kind, and now their principal -emotion was probably a sort of frantic annoyance. - -Back at the main camp, whenever the roaring volleys lulled, the men in -the trenches could hear their comrades of the outpost, and the -guerillas pattering away interminably. The moonlight faded and left an -equal darkness upon the wilderness. A man could barely see the comrade -at his side. Sometimes guerillas crept so close that the flame from -their rifles seemed to scorch the faces of the marines, and the reports -sounded as if from two or three inches of their very noses. If a pause -came, one could hear the guerillas gabbling to each other in a kind of -drunken delirium. The lieutenant was praying that the ammunition would -last. Everybody was praying for daybreak. - -A black hour came finally, when the men were not fit to have their -troubles increased. The enemy made a wild attack on one portion of the -oval, which was held by about fifteen men. The remainder of the force -was busy enough, and the fifteen were naturally left to their devices. -Amid the whirl of it, a loud voice suddenly broke out in -song: - - "When shepherds guard their flocks by night, - All seated on the ground, - An angel of the Lord came down - And glory shone around." - -"Who the hell is that?" demanded the lieutenant from a throat full of -smoke. There was almost a full stop of the firing. The Americans were -somewhat puzzled. Practical ones muttered that the fool should have a -bayonet-hilt shoved down his throat. Others felt a thrill at the -strangeness of the thing. Perhaps it was a sign! - - "The minstrel boy to the war has gone, - In the ranks of death you'll find him, - His father's sword he has girded on - And his wild harp slung behind him." - -This croak was as lugubrious as a coffin. "Who is it? Who is it?" -snapped the lieutenant. "Stop him, somebody." - -"It's Dryden, sir," said old Sergeant Peasley, as he felt around in the -darkness for his madhouse. "I can't find him--yet." - - "Please, O, please, O, do not let me fall; - You're--gurgh--ugh----" - -The sergeant had pounced upon him. - -This singing had had an effect upon the Spaniards. At first they had -fired frenziedly at the voice, but they soon ceased, perhaps from sheer -amazement. Both sides took a spell of meditation. - -The sergeant was having some difficulty with his charge. "Here, you, -grab 'im. Take 'im by the throat. Be quiet, you devil." - -One of the fifteen men, who had been hard-pressed, called out, "We've -only got about one clip a-piece, Lieutenant. If they come again----" - -The lieutenant crawled to and fro among his men, taking clips of -cartridges from those who had many. He came upon the sergeant and his -madhouse. He felt Dryden's belt and found it simply stuffed with -ammunition. He examined Dryden's rifle and found in it a full clip. The -madhouse had not fired a shot. The lieutenant distributed these -valuable prizes among the fifteen men. As the men gratefully took them, -one said: "If they had come again hard enough, they would have had us, -sir,--maybe." - -But the Spaniards did not come again. At the first indication of -daybreak, they fired their customary good-bye volley. The marines lay -tight while the slow dawn crept over the land. Finally the lieutenant -arose among them, and he was a bewildered man, but very angry. "Now -where is that idiot, Sergeant?" - -"Here he is, sir," said the old man cheerfully. He was seated on the -ground beside the recumbent Dryden who, with an innocent smile on his -face, was sound asleep. - -"Wake him up," said the lieutenant briefly. - -The sergeant shook the sleeper. "Here, Minstrel Boy, turn out. The -lieutenant wants you." - -Dryden climbed to his feet and saluted the officer with a dazed and -childish air. "Yes, sir." - -The lieutenant was obviously having difficulty in governing his -feelings, but he managed to say with calmness, "You seem to be fond of -singing, Dryden? Sergeant, see if he has any whisky on him." - -"Sir?" said the madhouse stupefied. "Singing--fond of singing?" - -Here the sergeant interposed gently, and he and the lieutenant held -palaver apart from the others. The marines, hitching more comfortably -their almost empty belts, spoke with grins of the madhouse. "Well, the -Minstrel Boy made 'em clear out. They couldn't stand it. But--I -wouldn't want to be in his boots. He'll see fireworks when the old man -interviews him on the uses of grand opera in modern warfare. How do you -think he managed to smuggle a bottle along without us finding it out?" - -When the weary outpost was relieved and marched back to camp, the men -could not rest until they had told a tale of the voice in the -wilderness. In the meantime the sergeant took Dryden aboard a ship, and -to those who took charge of the man, he defined him as "the most useful ----- ---- crazy man in the service of the United States." - - - - -VIRTUE IN WAR - - -I - -Gates had left the regular army in 1890, those parts of him which had -not been frozen having been well fried. He took with him nothing but an -oaken constitution and a knowledge of the plains and the best wishes of -his fellow-officers. The Standard Oil Company differs from the United -States Government in that it understands the value of the loyal and -intelligent services of good men and is almost certain to reward them -at the expense of incapable men. This curious practice emanates from no -beneficent emotion of the Standard Oil Company, on whose feelings you -could not make a scar with a hammer and chisel. It is simply that the -Standard Oil Company knows more than the United States Government and -makes use of virtue whenever virtue is to its advantage. In 1890 Gates -really felt in his bones that, if he lived a rigorously correct life -and several score of his class-mates and intimate friends died off, he -would get command of a troop of horse by the time he was unfitted by -age to be an active cavalry leader. He left the service of the United -States and entered the service of the Standard Oil Company. In the -course of time he knew that, if he lived a rigorously correct life, his -position and income would develop strictly in parallel with the worth -of his wisdom and experience, and he would not have to walk on the -corpses of his friends. - -But he was not happier. Part of his heart was in a barracks, and it was -not enough to discourse of the old regiment over the port and cigars to -ears which were polite enough to betray a languid ignorance. Finally -came the year 1898, and Gates dropped the Standard Oil Company as if it -were hot. He hit the steel trail to Washington and there fought the -first serious action of the war. Like most Americans, he had a native -State, and one morning he found himself major in a volunteer infantry -regiment whose voice had a peculiar sharp twang to it which he could -remember from childhood. The colonel welcomed the West Pointer with -loud cries of joy; the lieutenant-colonel looked at him with the pebbly -eye of distrust; and the senior major, having had up to this time the -best battalion in the regiment, strongly disapproved of him. There were -only two majors, so the lieutenant-colonel commanded the first -battalion, which gave him an occupation. Lieutenant-colonels under the -new rules do not always have occupations. Gates got the third -battalion--four companies commanded by intelligent officers who could -gauge the opinions of their men at two thousand yards and govern -themselves accordingly. The battalion was immensely interested in the -new major. It thought it ought to develop views about him. It thought -it was its blankety-blank business to find out immediately if it liked -him personally. In the company streets the talk was nothing else. Among -the non-commissioned officers there were eleven old soldiers of the -regular army, and they knew--and cared--that Gates had held commission -in the "Sixteenth Cavalry"--as _Harper's Weekly_ says. Over this fact -they rejoiced and were glad, and they stood by to jump lively when he -took command. He would know his work and he would know _their_ work, -and then in battle there would be killed only what men were absolutely -necessary and the sick list would be comparatively free of fools. - -The commander of the second battalion had been called by an Atlanta -paper, "Major Rickets C. Carmony, the commander of the second battalion -of the 307th ----, is when at home one of the biggest wholesale -hardware dealers in his State. Last evening he had ice-cream, at his -own expense, served out at the regular mess of the battalion, and after -dinner the men gathered about his tent where three hearty cheers for -the popular major were given." Carmony had bought twelve copies of this -newspaper and mailed them home to his friends. - -In Gates's battalion there were more kicks than ice-cream, and there -was no ice-cream at all. Indignation ran high at the rapid manner in -which he proceeded to make soldiers of them. Some of his officers -hinted finally that the men wouldn't stand it. They were saying that -they had enlisted to fight for their country--yes, but they weren't -going to be bullied day in and day out by a perfect stranger. They were -patriots, they were, and just as good men as ever stepped--just as good -as Gates or anybody like him. But, gradually, despite itself, the -battalion progressed. The men were not altogether conscious of it. They -evolved rather blindly. Presently there were fights with Carmony's -crowd as to which was the better battalion at drills, and at last there -was no argument. It was generally admitted that Gates commanded the -crack battalion. The men, believing that the beginning and the end of -all soldiering was in these drills of precision, were somewhat -reconciled to their major when they began to understand more of what he -was trying to do for them, but they were still fiery untamed patriots -of lofty pride and they resented his manner toward them. It was abrupt -and sharp. - -The time came when everybody knew that the Fifth Army Corps was the -corps designated for the first active service in Cuba. The officers and -men of the 307th observed with despair that their regiment was not in -the Fifth Army Corps. The colonel was a strategist. He understood -everything in a flash. Without a moment's hesitation he obtained leave -and mounted the night express for Washington. There he drove Senators -and Congressmen in span, tandem and four-in-hand. With the telegraph he -stirred so deeply the governor, the people and the newspapers of his -State that whenever on a quiet night the President put his head out of -the White House he could hear the distant vast commonwealth humming -with indignation. And as it is well known that the Chief Executive -listens to the voice of the people, the 307th was transferred to the -Fifth Army Corps. It was sent at once to Tampa, where it was brigaded -with two dusty regiments of regulars, who looked at it calmly, and said -nothing. The brigade commander happened to be no less a person than -Gates's old colonel in the "Sixteenth Cavalry"--as HARPER'S WEEKLY -says--and Gates was cheered. The old man's rather solemn look -brightened when he saw Gates in the 307th. There was a great deal of -battering and pounding and banging for the 307th at Tampa, but the men -stood it more in wonder than in anger. The two regular regiments -carried them along when they could, and when they couldn't waited -impatiently for them to come up. Undoubtedly the regulars wished the -volunteers were in garrison at Sitka, but they said practically -nothing. They minded their own regiments. The colonel was an invaluable -man in a telegraph office. When came the scramble for transports the -colonel retired to a telegraph office and talked so ably to Washington -that the authorities pushed a number of corps aside and made way for -the 307th, as if on it depended everything. The regiment got one of the -best transports, and after a series of delays and some starts, and an -equal number of returns, they finally sailed for Cuba. - - -II - -Now Gates had a singular adventure on the second morning after his -arrival at Atlanta to take his post as a major in the 307th. - -He was in his tent, writing, when suddenly the flap was flung away and -a tall young private stepped inside. - -"Well, Maje," said the newcomer, genially, "how goes it?" - -The major's head flashed up, but he spoke without heat. - -"Come to attention and salute." - -"Huh!" said the private. - -"Come to attention and salute." - -The private looked at him in resentful amazement, and then inquired: - -"Ye ain't mad, are ye? Ain't nothin' to get huffy about, is there?" - -"I---- Come to attention and salute." - -"Well," drawled the private, as he stared, "seein' as ye are so darn -perticular, I don't care if I do--if it'll make yer meals set on yer -stomick any better." - -Drawing a long breath and grinning ironically, he lazily pulled his -heels together and saluted with a flourish. - -"There," he said, with a return to his earlier genial manner. "How's -that suit ye, Maje?" - -There was a silence which to an impartial observer would have seemed -pregnant with dynamite and bloody death. Then the major cleared his -throat and coldly said: - -"And now, what is your business?" - -"Who--me?" asked the private. "Oh, I just sorter dropped in." With a -deeper meaning he added: "Sorter dropped in in a friendly way, thinkin' -ye was mebbe a different kind of a feller from what ye be." - -The inference was clearly marked. - -It was now Gates's turn to stare, and stare he unfeignedly did. - -"Go back to your quarters," he said at length. - -The volunteer became very angry. - -"Oh, ye needn't be so up-in-th'-air, need ye? Don't know's I'm dead -anxious to inflict my company on yer since I've had a good look at ye. -There may be men in this here battalion what's had just as much -edjewcation as you have, and I'm damned if they ain't got better -_manners_. Good-mornin'," he said, with dignity; and, passing out of -the tent, he flung the flap back in place with an air of slamming it as -if it had been a door. He made his way back to his company street, -striding high. He was furious. He met a large crowd of his comrades. - -"What's the matter, Lige?" asked one, who noted his temper. - -"Oh, nothin'," answered Lige, with terrible feeling. "Nothin'. I jest -been lookin' over the new major--that's all." - -"What's he like?" asked another. - -"Like?" cried Lige. "He's like nothin'. He ain't out'n the same kittle -as us. No. Gawd made him all by himself--sep'rate. He's a speshul -produc', he is, an' he won't have no truck with jest common--_men_, -like you be." - -He made a venomous gesture which included them all. - -"Did he set on ye?" asked a soldier. - -"Set on me? No," replied Lige, with contempt "I set on _him_. I sized -'im up in a minute. 'Oh, I don't know,' I says, as I was comin' out; -'guess you ain't the only man in the world,' I says." - -For a time Lige Wigram was quite a hero. He endlessly repeated the tale -of his adventure, and men admired him for so soon taking the conceit -out of the new officer. Lige was proud to think of himself as a plain -and simple patriot who had refused to endure any high-soaring nonsense. - -But he came to believe that he had not disturbed the singular composure -of the major, and this concreted his hatred. He hated Gates, not as a -soldier sometimes hates an officer, a hatred half of fear. Lige hated -as man to man. And he was enraged to see that so far from gaining any -hatred in return, he seemed incapable of making Gates have any thought -of him save as a unit in a body of three hundred men. Lige might just -as well have gone and grimaced at the obelisk in Central Park. - -When the battalion became the best in the regiment he had no part in -the pride of the companies. He was sorry when men began to speak well -of Gates. He was really a very consistent hater. - - -III - -The transport occupied by the 307th was commanded by some sort of a -Scandinavian, who was afraid of the shadows of his own topmasts. He -would have run his steamer away from a floating Gainsborough hat, and, -in fact, he ran her away from less on some occasions. The officers, -wishing to arrive with the other transports, sometimes remonstrated, -and to them he talked of his owners. Every officer in the convoying -warships loathed him, for in case any hostile vessel should appear they -did not see how they were going to protect this rabbit, who would -probably manage during a fight to be in about a hundred places on the -broad, broad sea, and all of them offensive to the navy's plan. When he -was not talking of his owners he was remarking to the officers of the -regiment that a steamer really was not like a valise, and that he was -unable to take his ship under his arm and climb trees with it. He -further said that "them naval fellows" were not near so smart as they -thought they were. - -From an indigo sea arose the lonely shore of Cuba. Ultimately, the -fleet was near Santiago, and most of the transports were bidden to wait -a minute while the leaders found out their minds. The skipper, to whom -the 307th were prisoners, waited for thirty hours half way between -Jamaica and Cuba. He explained that the Spanish fleet might emerge from -Santiago Harbour at any time, and he did not propose to be caught. His -owners---- Whereupon the colonel arose as one having nine hundred men at -his back, and he passed up to the bridge and he spake with the captain. -He explained indirectly that each individual of his nine hundred men -had decided to be the first American soldier to land for this campaign, -and that in order to accomplish the marvel it was necessary for the -transport to be nearer than forty-five miles from the Cuban coast. If -the skipper would only land the regiment the colonel would consent to -his then taking his interesting old ship and going to h---- with it. -And the skipper spake with the colonel. He pointed out that as far as -he officially was concerned, the United States Government did not -exist. He was responsible solely to his owners. The colonel pondered -these sayings. He perceived that the skipper meant that he was running -his ship as he deemed best, in consideration of the capital invested by -his owners, and that he was not at all concerned with the feelings of a -certain American military expedition to Cuba. He was a free son of the -sea--he was a sovereign citizen of the republic of the waves. He was -like Lige. - -However, the skipper ultimately incurred the danger of taking his -ship under the terrible guns of the _New York_, _Iowa_, _Oregon_, -_Massachusetts_, _Indiana_, _Brooklyn_, _Texas_ and a score of cruisers -and gunboats. It was a brave act for the captain of a United States -transport, and he was visibly nervous until he could again get to sea, -where he offered praises that the accursed 307th was no longer sitting -on his head. For almost a week he rambled at his cheerful will over the -adjacent high seas, having in his hold a great quantity of military -stores as successfully secreted as if they had been buried in a copper -box in the cornerstone of a new public building in Boston. He had had -his master's certificate for twenty-one years, and those people -couldn't tell a marlin-spike from the starboard side of the ship. - -The 307th was landed in Cuba, but to their disgust they found that -about ten thousand regulars were ahead of them. They got immediate -orders to move out from the base on the road to Santiago. Gates was -interested to note that the only delay was caused by the fact that many -men of the other battalions strayed off sight-seeing. In time the long -regiment wound slowly among hills that shut them from sight of the sea. - -For the men to admire, there were palm-trees, little brown huts, -passive, uninterested Cuban soldiers much worn from carrying American -rations inside and outside. The weather was not oppressively warm, and -the journey was said to be only about seven miles. There were no -rumours save that there had been one short fight and the army had -advanced to within sight of Santiago. Having a peculiar faculty for the -derision of the romantic, the 307th began to laugh. Actually there was -not _anything_ in the world which turned out to be as books describe -it. Here they had landed from the transport expecting to be at once -flung into line of battle and sent on some kind of furious charge, and -now they were trudging along a quiet trail lined with somnolent trees -and grass. The whole business so far struck them as being a highly -tedious burlesque. - -After a time they came to where the camps of regular regiments marked -the sides of the road--little villages of tents no higher than a man's -waist. The colonel found his brigade commander and the 307th was sent -off into a field of long grass, where the men grew suddenly solemn with -the importance of getting their supper. - -In the early evening some regulars told one of Gates's companies that -at daybreak this division would move to an attack upon something. - -"How d'you know?" said the company, deeply awed. - -"Heard it." - -"Well, what are we to attack?" - -"Dunno." - -The 307th was not at all afraid, but each man began to imagine the -morrow. The regulars seemed to have as much interest in the morrow as -they did in the last Christmas. It was none of their affair, -apparently. - -"Look here," said Lige Wigram, to a man in the 17th Regular Infantry, -"whereabouts are we goin' ter-morrow an' who do we run up against--do -ye know?" - -The 17th soldier replied, truculently: "If I ketch th' ---- ---- ---- -what stole my terbaccer, I'll whirl in an' break every ---- ---- bone -in his body." - -Gates's friends in the regular regiments asked him numerous questions -as to the reliability of his organisation. Would the 307th stand the -racket? They were certainly not contemptuous; they simply did not seem -to consider it important whether the 307th would or whether it would -not. - -"Well," said Gates, "they won't run the length of a tent-peg if they -can gain any idea of what they're fighting; they won't bunch if they've -about six acres of open ground to move in; they won't get rattled at -all if they see you fellows taking it easy, and they'll fight like the -devil as long as they thoroughly, completely, absolutely, -satisfactorily, exhaustively understand what the business is. They're -lawyers. All excepting my battalion." - - -IV - -Lige awakened into a world obscured by blue fog. Somebody was gently -shaking him. "Git up; we're going to move." The regiment was buckling -up itself. From the trail came the loud creak of a light battery moving -ahead. The tones of all men were low; the faces of the officers were -composed, serious. The regiment found itself moving along behind the -battery before it had time to ask itself more than a hundred questions. -The trail wound through a dense tall jungle, dark, heavy with dew. - -The battle broke with a snap--far ahead. Presently Lige heard from the -air above him a faint low note as if somebody were blowing softly in -the mouth of a bottle. It was a stray bullet which had wandered a mile -to tell him that war was before him. He nearly broke his neck looking -upward. "Did ye hear that?" But the men were fretting to get out of -this gloomy jungle. They wanted to see something. The faint -rup-rup-rrrrup-rup on in the front told them that the fight had begun; -death was abroad, and so the mystery of this wilderness excited them. -This wilderness was portentously still and dark. - -They passed the battery aligned on a hill above the trail, and they had -not gone far when the gruff guns began to roar and they could hear the -rocket-like swish of the flying shells. Presently everybody must have -called out for the assistance of the 307th. Aides and couriers came -flying back to them. - -"Is this the 307th? Hurry up your men, please, Colonel. You're needed -more every minute." - -Oh, they were, were they? Then the regulars were not going to do _all_ -the fighting? The old 307th was bitterly proud or proudly bitter. They -left their blanket rolls under the guard of God and pushed on, which -is one of the reasons why the Cubans of that part of the country -were, later, so well equipped. There began to appear fields, hot, -golden-green in the sun. On some palm-dotted knolls before them they -could see little lines of black dots--the American advance. A few men -fell, struck down by other men who, perhaps half a mile away, were -aiming at somebody else. The loss was wholly in Carmony's battalion, -which immediately bunched and backed away, coming with a shock against -Gates's advance company. This shock sent a tremor through all of -Gates's battalion until men in the very last files cried out nervously, -"Well, what in hell is up now?" There came an order to deploy and -advance. An occasional hoarse yell from the regulars could be heard. -The deploying made Gates's heart bleed for the colonel. The old man -stood there directing the movement, straight, fearless, sombrely -defiant of--everything. Carmony's four companies were like four herds. -And all the time the bullets from no living man knows where kept -pecking at them and pecking at them. Gates, the excellent Gates, the -highly educated and strictly military Gates, grew rankly insubordinate. -He knew that the regiment was suffering from nothing but the deadly -range and oversweep of the modern rifle, of which many proud and -confident nations know nothing save that they have killed savages with -it, which is the least of all informations. - -Gates rushed upon Carmony. - -"---- ---- it, man, if you can't get your people to deploy, for ---- -sake give me a chance! I'm stuck in the woods!" - -Carmony gave nothing, but Gates took all he could get and his battalion -deployed and advanced like men. The old colonel almost burst into -tears, and he cast one quick glance of gratitude at Gates, which the -younger officer wore on his heart like a secret decoration. - -There was a wild scramble up hill, down dale, through thorny thickets. -Death smote them with a kind of slow rhythm, leisurely taking a man now -here, now there, but the cat-spit sound of the bullets was always. A -large number of the men of Carmony's battalion came on with Gates. They -were willing to do anything, anything. They had no real fault, unless -it was that early conclusion that any brave high-minded youth was -necessarily a good soldier immediately, from the beginning. In them had -been born a swift feeling that the unpopular Gates knew everything, and -they followed the trained soldier. - -If they followed him, he certainly took them into it. As they swung -heavily up one steep hill, like so many wind-blown horses, they came -suddenly out into the real advance. Little blue groups of men were -making frantic rushes forward and then flopping down on their bellies -to fire volleys while other groups made rushes. Ahead they could see a -heavy house-like fort which was inadequate to explain from whence came -the myriad bullets. The remainder of the scene was landscape. Pale men, -yellow men, blue men came out of this landscape quiet and sad-eyed with -wounds. Often they were grimly facetious. There is nothing in the -American regulars so amazing as his conduct when he is wounded--his -apologetic limp, his deprecatory arm-sling, his embarrassed and ashamed -shot-hole through the lungs. The men of the 307th looked at calm -creatures who had divers punctures and they were made better. These men -told them that it was only necessary to keep a-going. They of the 307th -lay on their bellies, red, sweating and panting, and heeded the voice -of the elder brother. - -Gates walked back of his line, very white of face, but hard and stern -past anything his men knew of him. After they had violently adjured him -to lie down and he had given weak backs a cold, stiff touch, the 307th -charged by rushes. The hatless colonel made frenzied speech, but the -man of the time was Gates. The men seemed to feel that this was his -business. Some of the regular officers said afterward that the advance -of the 307th was very respectable indeed. They were rather surprised, -they said. At least five of the crack regiments of the regular army -were in this division, and the 307th could win no more than a feeling -of kindly appreciation. - -Yes, it was very good, very good indeed, but did you notice what was -being done at the same moment by the 12th, the 17th, the 7th, the 8th, -the 25th, the---- - -Gates felt that his charge was being a success. He was carrying out a -successful function. Two captains fell bang on the grass and a -lieutenant slumped quietly down with a death wound. Many men sprawled -suddenly. Gates was keeping his men almost even with the regulars, who -were charging on his flanks. Suddenly he thought that he must have come -close to the fort and that a Spaniard had tumbled a great stone block -down upon his leg. Twelve hands reached out to help him, but he cried: - -"No--d---- your souls--go on--go on!" - -He closed his eyes for a moment, and it really was only for a moment. -When he opened them he found himself alone with Lige Wigram, who lay on -the ground near him. - -"Maje," said Lige, "yer a good man. I've been a-follerin' ye all day -an' I want to say yer a good man." - -The major turned a coldly scornful eye upon the private. - -"Where are you wounded? Can you walk? Well, if you can, go to the rear -and leave me alone. I'm bleeding to death, and you bother me." - -Lige, despite the pain in his wounded shoulder, grew indignant. - -"Well," he mumbled, "you and me have been on th' outs fer a long time, -an' I only wanted to tell ye that what I seen of ye t'day has made me -feel mighty different." - -"Go to the rear--if you can walk," said the major. - -"Now, Maje, look here. A little thing like that----" - -"Go to the rear." - -Lige gulped with sobs. - -"Maje, I know I didn't understand ye at first, but ruther'n let a -little thing like that come between us, I'd--I'd----" - -"Go to the rear." - -In this reiteration Lige discovered a resemblance to that first old -offensive phrase, "Come to attention and salute." He pondered over the -resemblance and he saw that nothing had changed. The man bleeding to -death was the same man to whom he had once paid a friendly visit with -unfriendly results. He thought now that he perceived a certain hopeless -gulf, a gulf which is real or unreal, according to circumstances. -Sometimes all men are equal; occasionally they are not. If Gates had -ever criticised Lige's manipulation of a hay fork on the farm at home, -Lige would have furiously disdained his hate or blame. He saw now that -he must not openly approve the major's conduct in war. The major's -pride was in his business, and his, Lige's congratulations, were beyond -all enduring. - -The place where they were lying suddenly fell under a new heavy rain of -bullets. They sputtered about the men, making the noise of large -grasshoppers. - -"Major!" cried Lige. "Major Gates! It won't do for ye to be left here, -sir. Ye'll be killed." - -"But you can't help it, lad. You take care of yourself." - -"I'm damned if I do," said the private, vehemently. "If I can't git -_you_ out, I'll stay and wait." - -The officer gazed at his man with that same icy, contemptuous gaze. - -"I'm--I'm a dead man anyhow. You go to the rear, do you hear?" - -"No." - -The dying major drew his revolver, cocked it and aimed it unsteadily at -Lige's head. - -"Will you obey orders?" - -"No." - -"One?" - -"No." - -"Two?" - -"No." - -Gates weakly dropped his revolver. - -"Go to the devil, then. You're no soldier, but----" He tried to add -something, "But----" - -He heaved a long moan. "But--you--you--oh, I'm so-o-o tired." - - -V - -After the battle, three correspondents happened to meet on the trail. -They were hot, dusty, weary, hungry and thirsty, and they repaired to -the shade of a mango tree and sprawled luxuriously. Among them they -mustered twoscore friends who on that day had gone to the far shore of -the hereafter, but their senses were no longer resonant. Shackles was -babbling plaintively about mint-juleps, and the others were bidding him -to have done. - -"By-the-way," said one, at last, "it's too bad about poor old Gates of -the 307th. He bled to death. His men were crazy. They were blubbering -and cursing around there like wild people. It seems that when they got -back there to look for him they found him just about gone, and another -wounded man was trying to stop the flow with his hat! His hat, mind -you. Poor old Gatesie!" - -"Oh, no, Shackles!" said the third man of the party. "Oh, no, you're -wrong. The best mint-juleps in the world are made right in New York, -Philadelphia or Boston. That Kentucky idea is only a tradition." - -A wounded man approached them. He had been shot through the shoulder -and his shirt had been diagonally cut away, leaving much bare skin. -Over the bullet's point of entry there was a kind of a white spider, -shaped from pieces of adhesive plaster. Over the point of departure -there was a bloody bulb of cotton strapped to the flesh by other pieces -of adhesive plaster. His eyes were dreamy, wistful, sad. "Say, gents, -have any of ye got a bottle?" he asked. - -A correspondent raised himself suddenly and looked with bright eyes at -the soldier. - -"Well, you have got a nerve," he said grinning. "Have we got a bottle, -eh! Who in h---- do you think we are? If we had a bottle of good -licker, do you suppose we could let the whole army drink out of it? You -have too much faith in the generosity of men, my friend!" - -The soldier stared, ox-like, and finally said, "Huh?" - -"I say," continued the correspondent, somewhat more loudly, "that if we -had had a bottle we would have probably finished it ourselves by this -time." - -"But," said the other, dazed, "I _meant_ an empty bottle. I didn't mean -no _full_ bottle." - -The correspondent was humorously irascible. - -"An empty bottle! You must be crazy! Who ever heard of a man looking -for an empty bottle? It isn't sense! I've seen a million men looking -for full bottles, but you're the first man I ever saw who insisted on -the bottle's being empty. What in the world do you want it for?" - -"Well, ye see, mister," explained Lige, slowly, "our major he was -killed this mornin' an' we're jes' goin' to bury him, an' I thought I'd -jest take a look 'round an' see if I couldn't borry an empty bottle, -an' then I'd take an' write his name an' reg'ment on a paper an' put it -in th' bottle an' bury it with him, so's when they come fer to dig him -up sometime an' take him home, there sure wouldn't be no mistake." - -"Oh!" - - - - -MARINES SIGNALLING UNDER FIRE AT GUANTANAMO - - -They were four Guantanamo marines, officially known for the time as -signalmen, and it was their duty to lie in the trenches of Camp -McCalla, that faced the water, and, by day, signal the _Marblehead_ -with a flag and, by night, signal the _Marblehead_ with lanterns. It -was my good fortune--at that time I considered it my bad fortune, -indeed--to be with them on two of the nights when a wild storm of -fighting was pealing about the hill; and, of all the actions of the -war, none were so hard on the nerves, none strained courage so near the -panic point, as those swift nights in Camp McCalla. With a thousand -rifles rattling; with the field-guns booming in your ears; with the -diabolic Colt automatics clacking; with the roar of the _Marblehead_ -coming from the bay, and, last, with Mauser bullets sneering always in -the air a few inches over one's head, and with this enduring from dusk -to dawn, it is extremely doubtful if any one who was there will be able -to forget it easily. The noise; the impenetrable darkness; the -knowledge from the sound of the bullets that the enemy was on three -sides of the camp; the infrequent bloody stumbling and death of some -man with whom, perhaps, one had messed two hours previous; the -weariness of the body, and the more terrible weariness of the mind, at -the endlessness of the thing, made it wonderful that at least some of -the men did not come out of it with their nerves hopelessly in shreds. - -But, as this interesting ceremony proceeded in the darkness, it was -necessary for the signal squad to coolly take and send messages. -Captain McCalla always participated in the defence of the camp by -raking the woods on two of its sides with the guns of the _Marblehead_. -Moreover, he was the senior officer present, and he wanted to know what -was happening. All night long the crews of the ships in the bay would -stare sleeplessly into the blackness toward the roaring hill. - -The signal squad had an old cracker-box placed on top of the trench. -When not signalling they hid the lanterns in this-box; but as soon as -an order to send a message was received, it became necessary for one of -the men to stand up and expose the lights. And then--oh, my eye--how -the guerillas hidden in the gulf of night would turn loose at those -yellow gleams! - -Signalling in this way is done by letting one lantern remain -stationary--on top of the cracker-box, in this case--and moving the -other over to the left and right and so on in the regular gestures of -the wig-wagging code. It is a very simple system of night -communication, but one can see that it presents rare possibilities when -used in front of an enemy who, a few hundred yards away, is overjoyed -at sighting so definite a mark. - -How, in the name of wonders, those four men at Camp McCalla were not -riddled from head to foot and sent home more as repositories of Spanish -ammunition than as marines is beyond all comprehension. To make a -confession--when one of these men stood up to wave his lantern, I, -lying in the trench, invariably rolled a little to the right or left, -in order that, when he was shot, he would not fall on me. But the squad -came off scathless, despite the best efforts of the most formidable -corps in the Spanish army--the Escuadra de Guantanamo. That it was the -most formidable corps in the Spanish army of occupation has been told -me by many Spanish officers and also by General Menocal and other -insurgent officers. General Menocal was Garcia's chief-of-staff when -the latter was operating busily in Santiago province. The regiment was -composed solely of _practicos_, or guides, who knew every shrub and -tree on the ground over which they moved. - -Whenever the adjutant, Lieutenant Draper, came plunging along through -the darkness with an order--such as: "Ask the _Marblehead_ to please -shell the woods to the left"--my heart would come into my mouth, for I -knew then that one of my pals was going to stand up behind the lanterns -and have all Spain shoot at him. - -The answer was always upon the instant: - -"Yes, sir." Then the bullets began to snap, snap, snap, at his head -while all the woods began to crackle like burning straw. I could lie -near and watch the face of the signalman, illumed as it was by the -yellow shine of lantern light, and the absence of excitement, fright, -or any emotion at all on his countenance, was something to astonish all -theories out of one's mind. The face was in every instance merely that -of a man intent upon his business, the business of wig-wagging into the -gulf of night where a light on the _Marblehead_ was seen to move -slowly. - -These times on the hill resembled, in some days, those terrible scenes -on the stage--scenes of intense gloom, blinding lightning, with a -cloaked devil or assassin or other appropriate character muttering -deeply amid the awful roll of the thunder-drums. It was theatric beyond -words: one felt like a leaf in this booming chaos, this prolonged -tragedy of the night. Amid it all one could see from time to time the -yellow light on the face of a preoccupied signalman. - -Possibly no man who was there ever before understood the true eloquence -of the breaking of the day. We would lie staring into the east, fairly -ravenous for the dawn. Utterly worn to rags, with our nerves standing -on end like so many bristles, we lay and watched the east--the -unspeakably obdurate and slow east. It was a wonder that the eyes of -some of us did not turn to glass balls from the fixity of our gaze. - -Then there would come into the sky a patch of faint blue light. It was -like a piece of moonshine. Some would say it was the beginning of -daybreak; others would declare it was nothing of the kind. Men would -get very disgusted with each other in these low-toned arguments held in -the trenches. For my part, this development in the eastern sky -destroyed many of my ideas and theories concerning the dawning of the -day; but then I had never before had occasion to give it such solemn -attention. - -This patch widened and whitened in about the speed of a man's -accomplishment if he should be in the way of painting Madison Square -Garden with a camel's hair brush. The guerillas always set out to whoop -it up about this time, because they knew the occasion was approaching -when it would be expedient for them to elope. I, at least, always grew -furious with this wretched sunrise. I thought I could have walked -around the world in the time required for the old thing to get up above -the horizon. - -One midnight, when an important message was to be sent to the -_Marblehead_, Colonel Huntington came himself to the signal place with -Adjutant Draper and Captain McCauley, the quartermaster. When the man -stood up to signal, the colonel stood beside him. At sight of the -lights, the Spaniards performed as usual. They drove enough bullets -into that immediate vicinity to kill all the marines in the corps. - -Lieutenant Draper was agitated for his chief. "Colonel, won't you step -down, sir?" - -"Why, I guess not," said the grey old veteran in his slow, sad, -always-gentle way. "I am in no more danger than the man." - -"But, sir----" began the adjutant. - -"Oh, it's all right, Draper." - -So the colonel and the private stood side to side and took the heavy -fire without either moving a muscle. - -Day was always obliged to come at last, punctuated by a final exchange -of scattering shots. And the light shone on the marines, the dumb guns, -the flag. Grimy yellow face looked into grimy yellow face, and grinned -with weary satisfaction. Coffee! - -Usually it was impossible for many of the men to sleep at once. It -always took me, for instance, some hours to get my nerves combed down. -But then it was great joy to lie in the trench with the four signalmen, -and understand thoroughly that that night was fully over at last, and -that, although the future might have in store other bad nights, that -one could never escape from the prison-house which we call the past. - - * * * * * - -At the wild little fight at Cusco there were some splendid exhibitions -of wig-wagging under fire. Action began when an advanced detachment of -marines under Lieutenant Lucas with the Cuban guides had reached the -summit of a ridge overlooking a small valley where there was a house, a -well, and a thicket of some kind of shrub with great broad, oily -leaves. This thicket, which was perhaps an acre in extent, contained -the guerillas. The valley was open to the sea. The distance from the -top of the ridge to the thicket was barely two hundred yards. - -The _Dolphin_ had sailed up the coast in line with the marine advance, -ready with her guns to assist in any action. Captain Elliott, who -commanded the two hundred marines in this fight, suddenly called out -for a signalman. He wanted a man to tell the _Dolphin_ to open fire on -the house and the thicket. It was a blazing, bitter hot day on top of -the ridge with its shrivelled chaparral and its straight, tall cactus -plants. The sky was bare and blue, and hurt like brass. In two minutes -the prostrate marines were red and sweating like so many hull-buried -stokers in the tropics. - -Captain Elliott called out: - -"Where's a signalman? Who's a signalman here?" - -A red-headed "mick"--I think his name was Clancy--at any rate, it will -do to call him Clancy--twisted his head from where he lay on his -stomach pumping his Lee, and, saluting, said that he was a signalman. - -There was no regulation flag with the expedition, so Clancy was obliged -to tie his blue polka-dot neckerchief on the end of his rifle. It did -not make a very good flag. At first Clancy moved a ways down the safe -side of the ridge and wigwagged there very busily. But what with the -flag being so poor for the purpose, and the background of ridge being -so dark, those on the _Dolphin_ did not see it. So Clancy had to return -to the top of the ridge and outline himself and his flag against the -sky. - -The usual thing happened. As soon as the Spaniards caught sight of this -silhouette, they let go like mad at it. To make things more comfortable -for Clancy, the situation demanded that he face the sea and turn his -back to the Spanish bullets. This was a hard game, mark you--to stand -with the small of your back to volley firing. Clancy thought so. -Everybody thought so. We all cleared out of his neighbourhood. If he -wanted sole possession of any particular spot on that hill, he could -have it for all we would interfere with him. - -It cannot be denied that Clancy was in a hurry. I watched him. He was -so occupied with the bullets that snarled close to his ears that he was -obliged to repeat the letters of his message softly to himself. It -seemed an intolerable time before the _Dolphin_ answered the little -signal. Meanwhile, we gazed at him, marvelling every second that he had -not yet pitched headlong. He swore at times. - -Finally the _Dolphin_ replied to his frantic gesticulation, and he -delivered his message. As his part of the transaction was quite -finished--whoop!--he dropped like a brick into the firing line and -began to shoot; began to get "hunky" with all those people who had been -plugging at him. The blue polka-dot neckerchief still fluttered from -the barrel of his rifle. I am quite certain that he let it remain there -until the end of the fight. - -The shells of the _Dolphin_ began to plough up the thicket, kicking the -bushes, stones, and soil into the air as if somebody was blasting -there. - -Meanwhile, this force of two hundred marines and fifty Cubans and the -force of--probably--six companies of Spanish guerillas were making such -an awful din that the distant Camp McCalla was all alive with -excitement. Colonel Huntington sent out strong parties to critical -points on the road to facilitate, if necessary, a safe retreat, and -also sent forty men under Lieutenant Magill to come up on the left -flank of the two companies in action under Captain Elliott. Lieutenant -Magill and his men had crowned a hill which covered entirely the flank -of the fighting companies, but when the _Dolphin_ opened fire, it -happened that Magill was in the line of the shots. It became necessary -to stop the _Dolphin_ at once. Captain Elliott was not near Clancy at -this time, and he called hurriedly for another signalman. - -Sergeant Quick arose, and announced that he was a signalman. He -produced from somewhere a blue polka-dot neckerchief as large as a -quilt. He tied it on a long, crooked stick. Then he went to the top of -the ridge, and turning his back to the Spanish fire, began to signal to -the _Dolphin_. Again we gave a man sole possession of a particular part -of the ridge. We didn't want it. He could have it and welcome. If the -young sergeant had had the smallpox, the cholera, and the yellow fever, -we could not have slid out with more celerity. - -As men have said often, it seemed as if there was in this war a God of -Battles who held His mighty hand before the Americans. As I looked at -Sergeant Quick wig-wagging there against the sky, I would not have -given a tin tobacco-tag for his life. Escape for him seemed impossible. -It seemed absurd to hope that he would not be hit; I only hoped that he -would be hit just a little, in the arm, the shoulder, or the leg. - -I watched his face, and it was as grave and serene as that of a man -writing in his own library. He was the very embodiment of tranquillity -in occupation. He stood there amid the animal-like babble of the -Cubans, the crack of rifles, and the whistling snarl of the bullets, -and wig-wagged whatever he had to wig-wag without heeding anything but -his business. There was not a single trace of nervousness or haste. - -To say the least, a fight at close range is absorbing as a spectacle. -No man wants to take his eyes from it until that time comes when he -makes up his mind to run away. To deliberately stand up and turn your -back to a battle is in itself hard work. To deliberately stand up and -turn your back to a battle and hear immediate evidences of the -boundless enthusiasm with which a large company of the enemy shoot at -you from an adjacent thicket is, to my mind at least, a very great -feat. One need not dwell upon the detail of keeping the mind carefully -upon a slow spelling of an important code message. - -I saw Quick betray only one sign of emotion. As he swung his clumsy -flag to and fro, an end of it once caught on a cactus pillar, and he -looked sharply over his shoulder to see what had it. He gave the flag -an impatient jerk. He looked annoyed. - - - - -THIS MAJESTIC LIE - - -In the twilight, a great crowd was streaming up the Prado in Havana. -The people had been down to the shore to laugh and twiddle their -fingers at the American blockading fleet--mere colourless shapes on the -edge of the sea. Gorgeous challenges had been issued to the far-away -ships by little children and women while the men laughed. Havana was -happy, for it was known that the illustrious sailor Don Patricio de -Montojo had with his fleet met the decaying ships of one Dewey and -smitten them into stuffing for a baby's pillow. Of course the American -sailors were drunk at the time, but the American sailors were always -drunk. Newsboys galloped among the crowd crying _La Lucha_ and _La -Marina_. The papers said: "This is as we foretold. How could it be -otherwise when the cowardly Yankees met our brave sailors?" But the -tongues of the exuberant people ran more at large. One man said in a -loud voice: "How unfortunate it is that we still have to buy meat in -Havana when so much pork is floating in Manila Bay!" Amid the -consequent laughter, another man retorted: "Oh, never mind! That pork -in Manila is rotten. It always was rotten." Still another man said: -"But, little friend, it would make good manure for our fields if only -we had it." And still another man said: "Ah, wait until our soldiers -get with the wives of the Americans and there will be many little -Yankees to serve hot on our tables. The men of the _Maine_ simply -made our appetites good. Never mind the pork in Manila. There will be -plenty." Women laughed; children laughed because their mothers laughed; -everybody laughed. And--a word with you--these people were cackling and -chuckling and insulting their own dead, their own dead men of Spain, -for if the poor green corpses floated then in Manila Bay they were not -American corpses. - -The newsboys came charging with an extra. The inhabitants of -Philadelphia had fled to the forests because of a Spanish bombardment -and also Boston was besieged by the Apaches who had totally invested -the town. The Apache artillery had proven singularly effective and an -American garrison had been unable to face it. In Chicago millionaires -were giving away their palaces for two or three loaves of bread. These -despatches were from Madrid and every word was truth, but they added -little to the enthusiasm because the crowd--God help mankind--was -greatly occupied with visions of Yankee pork floating in Manila Bay. -This will be thought to be embittered writing. Very well; the writer -admits its untruthfulness in one particular. It is untruthful in that -it fails to reproduce one-hundredth part of the grossness and indecency -of popular expression in Havana up to the time when the people knew -they were beaten. - -There were no lights on the Prado or in other streets because of a -military order. In the slow-moving crowd, there was a young man and an -old woman. Suddenly the young man laughed a strange metallic laugh and -spoke in English, not cautiously. "That's damned hard to listen to." - -The woman spoke quickly. "Hush, you little idiot. Do you want to be -walkin' across that grass-plot in Cabanas with your arms tied behind -you?" Then she murmured sadly: "Johnnie, I wonder if that's true--what -they say about Manila?" - -"I don't know," said Johnnie, "but I think they're lying." - -As they crossed the Plaza, they could see that the Café Tacon was -crowded with Spanish officers in blue and white pajama uniforms. Wine -and brandy was being wildly consumed in honour of the victory at -Manila. "Let's hear what they say," said Johnnie to his companion, and -they moved across the street and in under the _portales_. The owner of -the Café Tacon was standing on a table making a speech amid cheers. He -was advocating the crucifixion of such Americans as fell into Spanish -hands and--it was all very sweet and white and tender, but above all, -it was chivalrous, because it is well known that the Spaniards are a -chivalrous people. It has been remarked both by the English newspapers -and by the bulls that are bred for the red death. And secretly the -corpses in Manila Bay mocked this jubilee; the mocking, mocking corpses -in Manila Bay. - -To be blunt, Johnnie was an American spy. Once he had been the manager -of a sugar plantation in Pinar del Rio, and during the insurrection it -had been his distinguished function to pay tribute of money, food and -forage alike to Spanish columns and insurgent bands. He was performing -this straddle with benefit to his crops and with mildew to his -conscience when Spain and the United States agreed to skirmish, both in -the name of honour. It then became a military necessity that he should -change his base. Whatever of the province that was still alive was -sorry to see him go for he had been a very dexterous man and food and -wine had been in his house even when a man with a mango could gain the -envy of an entire Spanish battalion. Without doubt he had been a mere -trimmer, but it was because of his crop and he always wrote the word -thus: C R O P. In those days a man of peace and commerce was in a -position parallel to the watchmaker who essayed a task in the midst of -a drunken brawl with oaths, bottles and bullets flying about his intent -bowed head. So many of them--or all of them--were trimmers, and to any -armed force they fervently said: "God assist you." And behold, the -trimmers dwelt safely in a tumultuous land and without effort save that -their little machines for trimming ran night and day. So many a -plantation became covered with a maze of lies as if thick-webbing -spiders had run from stalk to stalk in the cane. So sometimes a planter -incurred an equal hatred from both sides and when in trouble there was -no camp to which he could flee save, straight in air, the camp of the -heavenly host. - -If Johnnie had not had a crop, he would have been plainly on the side -of the insurgents, but his crop staked him down to the soil at a point -where the Spaniards could always be sure of finding him--him or his -crop--it is the same thing. But when war came between Spain and the -United States he could no longer be the cleverest trimmer in Pinar del -Rio. And he retreated upon Key West losing much of his baggage train, -not because of panic but because of wisdom. In Key West, he was no -longer the manager of a big Cuban plantation; he was a little tan-faced -refugee without much money. Mainly he listened; there was nought else -to do. In the first place he was a young man of extremely slow speech -and in the Key West Hotel tongues ran like pin-wheels. If he had -projected his methodic way of thought and speech upon this hurricane, -he would have been as effective as the man who tries to smoke against -the gale. This truth did not impress him. Really, he was impressed with -the fact that although he knew much of Cuba, he could not talk so -rapidly and wisely of it as many war-correspondents who had not yet -seen the island. Usually he brooded in silence over a bottle of beer -and the loss of his crop. He received no sympathy, although there was a -plentitude of tender souls. War's first step is to make expectation so -high that all present things are fogged and darkened in a tense wonder -of the future. None cared about the collapse of Johnnie's plantation -when all were thinking of the probable collapse of cities and fleets. - -In the meantime, battle-ships, monitors, cruisers, gunboats and torpedo -craft arrived, departed, arrived, departed. Rumours sang about the ears -of warships hurriedly coaling. Rumours sang about the ears of warships -leisurely coming to anchor. This happened and that happened and if the -news arrived at Key West as a mouse, it was often enough cabled north -as an elephant. The correspondents at Key West were perfectly capable -of adjusting their perspective, but many of the editors in the United -States were like deaf men at whom one has to roar. A few quiet words of -information was not enough for them; one had to bawl into their ears a -whirlwind tale of heroism, blood, death, victory--or defeat--at any -rate, a tragedy. The papers should have sent playwrights to the first -part of the war. Play-wrights are allowed to lower the curtain from -time to time and say to the crowd: "Mark, ye, now! Three or four months -are supposed to elapse. But the poor devils at Key West were obliged to -keep the curtain up all the time." "This isn't a continuous performance." -"Yes, it is; it's _got_ to be a continuous performance. The welfare of -the paper demands it. The people want news." Very well: continuous -performance. It is strange how men of sense can go aslant at the -bidding of other men of sense and combine to contribute to a general -mess of exaggeration and bombast. But we did; and in the midst of the -furor I remember the still figure of Johnnie, the planter, the -ex-trimmer. He looked dazed. - -This was in May. - -We all liked him. From time to time some of us heard in his words the -vibrant of a thoughtful experience. But it could not be well heard; it -was only like the sound of a bell from under the floor. We were too -busy with our own clatter. He was taciturn and competent while we -solved the war in a babble of tongues. Soon we went about our peaceful -paths saying ironically one to another: "War is hell." Meanwhile, -managing editors fought us tooth and nail and we all were sent boxes of -medals inscribed: "Incompetency." We became furious with ourselves. Why -couldn't we send hair-raising despatches? Why couldn't we inflame the -wires? All this we did. If a first-class armoured cruiser which had -once been a tow-boat fired a six-pounder shot from her forward -thirteen-inch gun turret, the world heard of it, you bet. We were not -idle men. We had come to report the war and we did it. Our good names -and our salaries depended upon it and we were urged by our -managing-editors to remember that the American people were a collection -of super-nervous idiots who would immediately have convulsions if we -did not throw them some news--any news. It was not true, at all. The -American people were anxious for things decisive to happen; they were -not anxious to be lulled to satisfaction with a drug. But we lulled -them. We told them this and we told them that, and I warrant you our -screaming sounded like the noise of a lot of sea-birds settling for the -night among the black crags. - -In the meantime, Johnnie stared and meditated. In his unhurried, -unstartled manner he was singularly like another man who was flying the -pennant as commander-in-chief of the North Atlantic Squadron. Johnnie -was a refugee; the admiral was an admiral. And yet they were much akin, -these two. Their brother was the Strategy Board--the only capable -political institution of the war. At Key West the naval officers spoke -of their business and were devoted to it and were bound to succeed in -it, but when the flag-ship was in port the only two people who were -independent and sane were the admiral and Johnnie. The rest of us were -lulling the public with drugs. - -There was much discussion of the new batteries at Havana. Johnnie was a -typical American. In Europe a typical American is a man with a hard -eye, chin-whiskers and a habit of speaking through his nose. Johnnie -was a young man of great energy, ready to accomplish a colossal thing -for the basic reason that he was ignorant of its magnitude. In fact he -attacked all obstacles in life in a spirit of contempt, seeing them -smaller than they were until he had actually surmounted them--when he -was likely to be immensely pleased with himself. Somewhere in him there -was a sentimental tenderness, but it was like a light seen afar at -night; it came, went, appeared again in a new place, flickered, flared, -went out, left you in a void and angry. And if his sentimental -tenderness was a light, the darkness in which it puzzled you was his -irony of soul. This irony was directed first at himself; then at you; -then at the nation and the flag; then at God. It was a midnight in -which you searched for the little elusive, ashamed spark of tender -sentiment. Sometimes, you thought this was all pretext, the manner and -the way of fear of the wit of others; sometimes you thought he was a -hardened savage; usually you did not think but waited in the cheerful -certainty that in time the little flare of light would appear in the -gloom. - -Johnnie decided that he would go and spy upon the fortifications of -Havana. If any one wished to know of those batteries it was the admiral -of the squadron, but the admiral of the squadron knew much. I feel sure -that he knew the size and position of every gun. To be sure, new guns -might be mounted at any time, but they would not be big guns, and -doubtless he lacked in his cabin less information than would be worth a -man's life. Still, Johnnie decided to be a spy. He would go and look. -We of the newspapers pinned him fast to the tail of our kite and he was -taken to see the admiral. I judge that the admiral did not display much -interest in the plan. But at any rate it seems that he touched Johnnie -smartly enough with a brush to make him, officially, a spy. Then -Johnnie bowed and left the cabin. There was no other machinery. If -Johnnie was to end his life and leave a little book about it, no one -cared--least of all, Johnnie and the admiral. When he came aboard the -tug, he displayed his usual stalwart and rather selfish zest for fried -eggs. It was all some kind of an ordinary matter. It was done every -day. It was the business of packing pork, sewing shoes, binding hay. It -was commonplace. No one could adjust it, get it in proportion, -until--afterwards. On a dark night, they heaved him into a small boat -and rowed him to the beach. - -And one day he appeared at the door of a little lodging-house in Havana -kept by Martha Clancy, born in Ireland, bred in New York, fifteen years -married to a Spanish captain, and now a widow, keeping Cuban lodgers -who had no money with which to pay her. She opened the door only a -little way and looked down over her spectacles at him. - -"Good-mornin' Martha," he said. - -She looked a moment in silence. Then she made an indescribable gesture -of weariness. "Come in," she said. He stepped inside. "And in God's -name couldn't you keep your neck out of this rope? And so you had to -come here, did you--to Havana? Upon my soul, Johnnie, my son, you are -the biggest fool on two legs." - -He moved past her into the court-yard and took his old chair at the -table--between the winding stairway and the door--near the orange tree. -"Why am I?" he demanded stoutly. She made no reply until she had taken -seat in her rocking-chair and puffed several times upon a cigarette. -Then through the smoke she said meditatively: "Everybody knows ye are a -damned little mambi." Sometimes she spoke with an Irish accent. - -He laughed. "I'm no more of a mambi than _you_ are, anyhow." - -"I'm no mambi. But your name is poison to half the Spaniards in Havana. -That you know. And if you were once safe in Cayo Hueso, 'tis nobody but -a born fool who would come blunderin' into Havana again. Have ye had -your dinner?" - -"What have you got?" he asked before committing himself. - -She arose and spoke without confidence as she moved toward the -cupboard. "There's some codfish salad." - -"_What?_" said he. - -"Codfish salad." - -"_Codfish what?_" - -"Codfish salad. Ain't it good enough for ye? Maybe this is -Delmonico's--no? Maybe ye never heard that the Yankees have us -blockaded, hey? Maybe ye think food can be picked in the streets here -now, hey? I'll tell ye one thing, my son, if you stay here long you'll -see the want of it and so you had best not throw it over your -shoulder." - -The spy settled determinedly in his chair and delivered himself his -final decision. "That may all be true, but I'm _damned_ if I eat -codfish salad." - -Old Martha was a picture of quaint despair. "You'll not?" - -"No!" - -"Then," she sighed piously, "may the Lord have mercy on ye, Johnnie, -for you'll never do here. 'Tis not the time for you. You're due after -the blockade. Will you do me the favour of translating why you won't -eat codfish salad, you skinny little insurrecto?" - -"Cod-fish salad!" he said with a deep sneer. "Who ever heard of it!" - -Outside, on the jumbled pavement of the street, an occasional two-wheel -cart passed with deafening thunder, making one think of the overturning -of houses. Down from the pale sky over the patio came a heavy odour of -Havana itself, a smell of old straw. The wild cries of vendors could be -heard at intervals. - -"You'll not?" - -"No." - -"And why not?" - -"Cod-fish salad? Not by a blame sight!" - -"Well--all right then. You are more of a pig-headed young imbecile than -even I thought from seeing you come into Havana here where half the -town knows you and the poorest Spaniard would give a gold piece to see -you go into Cabanas and forget to come out. Did I tell you, my son -Alfred is sick? Yes, poor little fellow, he lies up in the room you -used to have. The fever. And did you see Woodham in Key West? Heaven -save us, what quick time he made in getting out. I hear Figtree and -Button are working in the cable office over there--no? And when is the -war going to end? Are the Yankees going to try to take Havana? It will -be a hard job, Johnnie? The Spaniards say it is impossible. Everybody -is laughing at the Yankees. I hate to go into the street and hear them. -Is General Lee going to lead the army? What's become of Springer? I see -you've got a new pair of shoes." - -In the evening there was a sudden loud knock at the outer door. Martha -looked at Johnnie and Johnnie looked at Martha. He was still sitting in -the patio, smoking. She took the lamp and set it on a table in the -little parlour. This parlour connected the street-door with the patio, -and so Johnnie would be protected from the sight of the people who -knocked by the broad illuminated tract. Martha moved in pensive fashion -upon the latch. "Who's there?" she asked casually. - -"The police." There it was, an old melodramatic incident from the -stage, from the romances. One could scarce believe it. It had all the -dignity of a classic resurrection. "The police!" One sneers at its -probability; it is too venerable. But so it happened. - -"Who?" said Martha. - -"The police!" - -"What do you want here?" - -"Open the door and we'll tell you." - -Martha drew back the ordinary huge bolts of a Havana house and opened -the door a trifle. "Tell me what you want and begone quickly," she -said, "for my little boy is ill of the fever----" - -She could see four or five dim figures, and now one of these suddenly -placed a foot well within the door so that she might not close it. "We -have come for Johnnie. We must search your house." - -"Johnnie? Johnnie? Who is Johnnie?" said Martha in her best manner. - -The police inspector grinned with the light upon his face. "Don't you -know Señor Johnnie from Pinar del Rio?" he asked. - -"Before the war--yes. But now--where is he--he must be in Key West?" - -"He is in your house." - -"He? In my house? Do me the favour to think that I have some -intelligence. Would I be likely to be harbouring a Yankee in these -times? You must think I have no more head than an Orden Publico. And -I'll not have you search my house, for there is no one here save my -son--who is maybe dying of the fever--and the doctor. The doctor is -with him because now is the crisis, and any one little thing may kill -or cure my boy, and you will do me the favour to consider what may -happen if I allow five or six heavy-footed policemen to go tramping all -over my house. You may think----" - -"Stop it," said the chief police officer at last. He was laughing and -weary and angry. - -Martha checked her flow of Spanish. "There!" she thought, "I've done my -best. He ought to fall in with it." But as the police entered she began -on them again. "You will search the house whether I like it or no. Very -well; but if anything happens to my boy? It is a nice way of conduct, -anyhow--coming into the house of a widow at night and talking much -about this Yankee and----" - -"For God's sake, señora, hold your tongue. We----" - -"Oh, yes, the señora can for God's sake very well hold her tongue, but -that wouldn't assist you men into the street where you belong. Take -care: if my sick boy suffers from this prowling! No, you'll find -nothing in that wardrobe. And do you think he would be under the table? -Don't overturn all that linen. Look you, when you go upstairs, tread -lightly." - -Leaving a man on guard at the street door and another in the patio, the -chief policeman and the remainder of his men ascended to the gallery -from which opened three sleeping-rooms. They were followed by Martha -abjuring them to make no noise. The first room was empty; the second -room was empty; as they approached the door of the third room, Martha -whispered supplications. "Now, in the name of God, don't disturb my -boy." The inspector motioned his men to pause and then he pushed open -the door. Only one weak candle was burning in the room and its yellow -light fell upon the bed whereon was stretched the figure of a little -curly-headed boy in a white nightey. He was asleep, but his face was -pink with fever and his lips were murmuring some half-coherent childish -nonsense. At the head of the bed stood the motionless figure of a man. -His back was to the door, but upon hearing a noise he held a solemn -hand. There was an odour of medicine. Out on the balcony, Martha -apparently was weeping. - -The inspector hesitated for a moment; then he noiselessly entered the -room and with his yellow cane prodded under the bed, in the cupboard -and behind the window-curtains. Nothing came of it. He shrugged his -shoulders and went out to the balcony. He was smiling sheepishly. -Evidently he knew that he had been beaten. "Very good, Señora," he -said. "You are clever; some day I shall be clever, too." He shook his -finger at her. He was threatening her but he affected to be playful. -"Then--beware! Beware!" - -Martha replied blandly, "My late husband, El Capitan Señor Don Patricio -de Castellon y Valladolid was a cavalier of Spain and if he was alive -to-night he would now be cutting the ears from the heads of you and -your miserable men who smell frightfully of cognac." - -"Por Dios!" muttered the inspector as followed by his band he made his -way down the spiral staircase. "It is a tongue! One vast tongue!" At -the street-door they made ironical bows; they departed; they were angry -men. - -Johnnie came down when he heard Martha bolting the door behind the -police. She brought back the lamp to the table in the patio and stood -beside it, thinking. Johnnie dropped into his old chair. The expression -on the spy's face was curious; it pictured glee, anxiety, -self-complacency; above all it pictured self-complacency. Martha said -nothing; she was still by the lamp, musing. - -The long silence was suddenly broken by a tremendous guffaw from -Johnnie. "Did you ever see sich a lot of fools!" He leaned his head far -back and roared victorious merriment. - -Martha was almost dancing in her apprehension. "Hush! Be quiet, you -little demon! Hush! Do me the favour to allow them to get to the corner -before you bellow like a walrus. Be quiet." - -The spy ceased his laughter and spoke in indignation. "Why?" he -demanded. "Ain't I got a right to laugh?" - -"Not with a noise like a cow fallin' into a cucumber-frame," she -answered sharply. "Do me the favour----" Then she seemed overwhelmed -with a sense of the general hopelessness of Johnnie's character. She -began to wag her head. "Oh, but you are the boy for gettin' yourself -into the tiger's cage without even so much as the thought of a -pocket-knife in your thick head. You would be a genius of the first -water if you only had a little sense. And now you're here, what are you -going to do?" - -He grinned at her. "I'm goin' to hold an inspection of the land and sea -defences of the city of Havana." - -Martha's spectacles dropped low on her nose and, looking over the rims -of them in grave meditation, she said: "If you can't put up with -codfish salad you had better make short work of your inspection of the -land and sea defences of the city of Havana. You are likely to starve -in the meantime. A man who is particular about his food has come to the -wrong town if he is in Havana now." - -"No, but----" asked Johnnie seriously. "Haven't you any bread?" - -"_Bread!_" - -"Well, coffee then? Coffee alone will do." - -"_Coffee!_" - -Johnnie arose deliberately and took his hat. Martha eyed him. "And -where do you think you are goin'?" she asked cuttingly. - -Still deliberate, Johnnie moved in the direction of the street-door. -"I'm goin' where I can get something to eat." - -Martha sank into a chair with a moan which was a finished -opinion--almost a definition--of Johnnie's behaviour in life. "And -where will you go?" she asked faintly. - -"Oh, I don't know," he rejoined. "Some café. Guess I'll go to the Café -Aguacate. They feed you well there. I remember----" - -"_You_ remember? _They_ remember! They know you as well as if you were -the sign over the door." - -"Oh, they won't give me away," said Johnnie with stalwart confidence. - -"Gi-give you away? Give you a-way?" stammered Martha. - -The spy made no answer but went to the door, unbarred it and passed -into the street. Martha caught her breath and ran after him and came -face to face with him as he turned to shut the door. "Johnnie, if ye -come back, bring a loaf of bread. I'm dyin' for one good honest bite in -a slice of bread." - -She heard his peculiar derisive laugh as she bolted the door. She -returned to her chair in the patio. "Well, there," she said with -affection, admiration and contempt. "There he goes! The most -hard-headed little ignoramus in twenty nations! What does he care? -Nothin'! And why is it? Pure bred-in-the-bone ignorance. Just because -he can't stand codfish salad he goes out to a café! A café where they -know him as if they had made him!... Well.... I won't see him again, -probably.... But if he comes back, I hope he brings some bread. I'm -near dead for it." - - -II - -Johnnie strolled carelessly through dark narrow streets. Near every -corner were two Orden Publicos--a kind of soldier-police--quiet in the -shadow of some doorway, their Remingtons ready, their eyes shining. -Johnnie walked past as if he owned them, and their eyes followed him -with a sort of a lazy mechanical suspicion which was militant in none -of its moods. - -Johnnie was suffering from a desire to be splendidly imprudent. He -wanted to make the situation gasp and thrill and tremble. From time to -time he tried to conceive the idea of his being caught, but to save his -eyes he could not imagine it. Such an event was impossible to his -peculiar breed of fatalism which could not have conceded death until he -had mouldered seven years. - -He arrived at the Café Aguacate and found it much changed. The thick -wooden shutters were up to keep light from shining into the street. -Inside, there were only a few Spanish officers. Johnnie walked to the -private rooms at the rear. He found an empty one and pressed the -electric button. When he had passed through the main part of the café -no one had noted him. The first to recognise him was the waiter who -answered the bell. This worthy man turned to stone before the presence -of Johnnie. - -"Buenos noche, Francisco," said the spy, enjoying himself. "I have -hunger. Bring me bread, butter, eggs and coffee." There was a silence; -the waiter did not move; Johnnie smiled casually at him. - -The man's throat moved; then like one suddenly re-endowed with life, he -bolted from the room. After a long time, he returned with the -proprietor of the place. In the wicked eye of the latter there gleamed -the light of a plan. He did not respond to Johnnie's genial greeting, -but at once proceeded to develop his position. "Johnnie," he said, -"bread is very dear in Havana. It is very dear." - -"Is it?" said Johnnie looking keenly at the speaker. He understood at -once that here was some sort of an attack upon him. - -"Yes," answered the proprietor of the Café Aguacate slowly and softly. -"It is very dear. I think to-night one small bit of bread will cost you -one centene--in advance." A centene approximates five dollars in gold. - -The spy's face did not change. He appeared to reflect. "And how much -for the butter?" he asked at last. - -The proprietor gestured. "There is no butter. Do you think we can have -everything with those Yankee pigs sitting out there on their ships?" - -"And how much for the coffee?" asked Johnnie musingly. - -Again the two men surveyed each other during a period of silence. Then -the proprietor said gently, "I think your coffee will cost you about -two centenes." - -"And the eggs?" - -"Eggs are very dear. I think eggs would cost you about three centenes -for each one." - -The new looked at the old; the North Atlantic looked at the -Mediterranean; the wooden nutmeg looked at the olive. Johnnie slowly -took six centenes from his pocket and laid them on the table. "That's -for bread, coffee, and one egg. I don't think I could eat more than one -egg to-night. I'm not so hungry as I was." - -The proprietor held a perpendicular finger and tapped the table with -it. "Oh, señor," he said politely, "I think you would like two eggs." - -Johnnie saw the finger. He understood it. "Ye-e-es," he drawled. "I -would like two eggs." He placed three more centenes on the table. - -"And a little thing for the waiter? I am sure his services will be -excellent, invaluable." - -"Ye-e-es, for the waiter." Another centene was laid on the table. - -The proprietor bowed and preceded the waiter out of the room. There was -a mirror on the wall and, springing to his feet, the spy thrust his -face close to the honest glass. "Well, I'm damned!" he ejaculated. "Is -this me or is this the Honourable D. Hayseed Whiskers of Kansas? Who am -I, anyhow? Five dollars in gold!... Say, these people are clever. They -know their business, they do. Bread, coffee and two eggs and not even -sure of getting it! Fifty dol---- ... Never mind; wait until the war is -over. Fifty dollars gold!" He sat for a long time; nothing happened. -"Eh," he said at last, "that's the game." As the front door of the café -closed upon him, he heard the proprietor and one of the waiters burst -into derisive laughter. - -Martha was waiting for him. "And here ye are, safe back," she said with -delight as she let him enter. "And did ye bring the bread? Did ye bring -the bread?" - -But she saw that he was raging like a lunatic. His face was red and -swollen with temper; his eyes shot forth gleams. Presently he stood -before her in the patio where the light fell on him. "Don't speak to -me," he choked out waving his arms. "Don't speak to me! _Damn_ your -bread! I went to the Café Aguacate! Oh, yes, I went there! Of course, -I did! And do you know what they did to me? No! Oh, they didn't do -anything to me at all! Not a thing! Fifty dollars! Ten gold pieces!" - -"May the saints guard us," cried Martha. "And what was that for?" - -"Because they wanted them more than I did," snarled Johnnie. "Don't you -see the game. I go into the Café Aguacate. The owner of the place says -to himself, 'Hello! Here's that Yankee what they call Johnnie. He's got -no right here in Havana. Guess I'll peach on him to the police. They'll -put him in Cabanas as a spy.' Then he does a little more thinking, and -finally he says, 'No; I guess I won't peach on him just this minute. -First, I'll take a small flyer myself.' So in he comes and looks me -right in the eye and says, 'Excuse me but it will be a centene for the -bread, a centene for the coffee, and eggs are at three centenes each. -Besides there will be a small matter of another gold-piece for the -waiter.' I think this over. I think it over hard.... He's clever -anyhow.... When this cruel war is over, I'll be after him.... I'm a -nice secret agent of the United States government, I am. I come here to -be too clever for all the Spanish police, and the first thing I do is -get buncoed by a rotten, little thimble-rigger in a café. Oh, yes, I'm -all right." - -"May the saints guard us!" cried Martha again. "I'm old enough to be -your mother, or maybe, your grandmother, and I've seen a lot; but it's -many a year since I laid eyes on such a ign'rant and wrong-headed -little, red Indian as ye are! Why didn't ye take my advice and stay -here in the house with decency and comfort. But he must be all for -doing everything high and mighty. The Café Aguacate, if ye please. No -plain food for his highness. He turns up his nose at cod-fish sal----" - -"Thunder and lightnin', are you going to ram that thing down my throat -every two minutes, are you?" And in truth she could see that one more -reference to that illustrious viand would break the back of Johnnie's -gentle disposition as one breaks a twig on the knee. She shifted with -Celtic ease. "Did ye bring the bread?" she asked. - -He gazed at her for a moment and suddenly laughed. "I forgot to -mention," he informed her impressively, "that they did not take the -trouble to give me either the bread, the coffee or the eggs." - -"The powers!" cried Martha. - -"But it's all right. I stopped at a shop." From his pockets, he brought -a small loaf, some kind of German sausage and a flask of Jamaica rum. -"About all I could get. And they didn't want to sell them either. They -expect presently they can exchange a box of sardines for a grand -piano." - -"'We are not blockaded by the Yankee warships; we are blockaded by our -grocers,'" said Martha, quoting the epidemic Havana saying. But she did -not delay long from the little loaf. She cut a slice from it and sat -eagerly munching. Johnnie seemed more interested in the Jamaica rum. He -looked up from his second glass, however, because he heard a peculiar -sound. The old woman was weeping. "Hey, what's this?" he demanded in -distress, but with the manner of a man who thinks gruffness is the only -thing that will make people feel better and cease. "What's this anyhow? -What are you cryin' for?" - -"It's the bread," sobbed Martha. "It's the--the br-e-a-ddd." - -"Huh? What's the matter with it?" - -"It's so good, so g-good." The rain of tears did not prevent her from -continuing her unusual report. "Oh, it's so good! This is the first in -weeks. I didn't know bread could be so l-like heaven." - -"Here," said Johnnie seriously. "Take a little mouthful of this rum. It -will do you good." - -"No; I only want the bub-bub-bread." - -"Well, take the bread, too.... There you are. Now you feel better.... -By Jove, when I think of that Café Aguacate man! Fifty dollars gold! -And then not to get anything either. Say, after the war, I'm going -there, and I'm just going to raze that place to the ground. You see! -I'll make him think he can charge ME fifteen dollars for an egg.... -And then not give me the egg." - - -III - -Johnnie's subsequent activity in Havana could truthfully be related in -part to a certain temporary price of eggs. It is interesting to note -how close that famous event got to his eye so that, according to the -law of perspective, it was as big as the Capitol of Washington, where -centres the spirit of his nation. Around him, he felt a similar and -ferocious expression of life which informed him too plainly that if he -was caught, he was doomed. Neither the garrison nor the citizens of -Havana would tolerate any nonsense in regard to him if he was caught. -He would have the steel screw against his neck in short order. And what -was the main thing to bear him up against the desire to run away before -his work was done? A certain temporary price of eggs! It not only hid -the Capitol at Washington; it obscured the dangers in Havana. - -Something was learned of the Santa Clara battery, because one morning -an old lady in black accompanied by a young man--evidently her -son--visited a house which was to rent on the height, in rear of the -battery. The portero was too lazy and sleepy to show them over the -premises, but he granted them permission to investigate for themselves. -They spent most of their time on the flat parapeted roof of the house. -At length they came down and said that the place did not suit them. The -portero went to sleep again. - -Johnnie was never discouraged by the thought that his operations would -be of small benefit to the admiral commanding the fleet in adjacent -waters, and to the general commanding the army which was not going to -attack Havana from the land side. At that time it was all the world's -opinion that the army from Tampa would presently appear on the Cuban -beach at some convenient point to the east or west of Havana. It turned -out, of course, that the condition of the defences of Havana was of not -the slightest military importance to the United States since the city -was never attacked either by land or sea. But Johnnie could not foresee -this. He continued to take his fancy risk, continued his majestic lie, -with satisfaction, sometimes with delight, and with pride. And in the -psychologic distance was old Martha dancing with fear and shouting: -"Oh, Johnnie, me son, what a born fool ye are!" - -Sometimes she would address him thus: "And when ye learn all this, how -are ye goin' to get out with it?" She was contemptuous. - -He would reply, as serious as a Cossack in his fatalism. "Oh, I'll get -out some way." - -His manoeuvres in the vicinity of Regla and Guanabacoa were of a -brilliant character. He haunted the sunny long grass in the manner of a -jack-rabbit. Sometimes he slept under a palm, dreaming of the American -advance fighting its way along the military road to the foot of Spanish -defences. Even when awake, he often dreamed it and thought of the -all-day crash and hot roar of an assault. Without consulting -Washington, he had decided that Havana should be attacked from the -south-east. An advance from the west could be contested right up to the -bar of the Hotel Inglaterra, but when the first ridge in the south-east -would be taken, the whole city with most of its defences would lie -under the American siege guns. And the approach to this position was as -reasonable as is any approach toward the muzzles of magazine rifles. -Johnnie viewed the grassy fields always as a prospective battle-ground, -and one can see him lying there, filling the landscape with visions of -slow-crawling black infantry columns, galloping batteries of artillery, -streaks of faint blue smoke marking the modern firing lines, clouds of -dust, a vision of ten thousand tragedies. And his ears heard the -noises. - -But he was no idle shepherd boy with a head haunted by sombre and -glorious fancies. On the contrary, he was much occupied with practical -matters. Some months after the close of the war, he asked me: "Were you -ever fired at from very near?" I explained some experiences which I had -stupidly esteemed as having been rather near. "But did you ever have'm -fire a volley on you from close--very close--say, thirty feet?" - -Highly scandalised I answered, "No; in that case, I would not be the -crowning feature of the Smithsonian Institute." - -"Well," he said, "it's a funny effect. You feel as every hair on your -head had been snatched out by the roots." Questioned further he said, -"I walked right up on a Spanish outpost at daybreak once, and about -twenty men let go at me. Thought I was a Cuban army, I suppose." - -"What did you do?" - -"I run." - -"Did they hit you, at all?" - -"Naw." - -It had been arranged that some light ship of the squadron should -rendezvous with him at a certain lonely spot on the coast on a certain -day and hour and pick him up. He was to wave something white. His shirt -was not white, but he waved it whenever he could see the signal-tops of -a war-ship. It was a very tattered banner. After a ten-mile scramble -through almost pathless thickets, he had very little on him which -respectable men would call a shirt, and the less one says about his -trousers the better. This naked savage, then, walked all day up and -down a small bit of beach waving a brown rag. At night, he slept in the -sand. At full daybreak he began to wave his rag; at noon he was waving -his rag; at night-fall he donned his rag and strove to think of it as a -shirt. Thus passed two days, and nothing had happened. Then he retraced -a twenty-five mile way to the house of old Martha. At first she took -him to be one of Havana's terrible beggars and cried, "And do you come -here for alms? Look out, that I do not beg of you." The one unchanged -thing was his laugh of pure mockery. When she heard it, she dragged him -through the door. He paid no heed to her ejaculations but went straight -to where he had hidden some gold. As he was untying a bit of string -from the neck of a small bag, he said, "How is little Alfred?" -"Recovered, thank Heaven." He handed Martha a piece of gold. "Take this -and buy what you can on the corner. I'm hungry." Martha departed with -expedition. Upon her return, she was beaming. She had foraged a thin -chicken, a bunch of radishes and two bottles of wine. Johnnie had -finished the radishes and one bottle of wine when the chicken was still -a long way from the table. He called stoutly for more, and so Martha -passed again into the street with another gold piece. She bought more -radishes, more wine and some cheese. They had a grand feast, with -Johnnie audibly wondering until a late hour why he had waved his rag in -vain. - -There was no end to his suspense, no end to his work. He knew -everything. He was an animate guide-book. After he knew a thing once, -he verified it in several different ways in order to make sure. He -fitted himself for a useful career, like a young man in a college--with -the difference that the shadow of the garote fell ever upon his way, -and that he was occasionally shot at, and that he could not get enough -to eat, and that his existence was apparently forgotten, and that he -contracted the fever. But---- - -One cannot think of the terms in which to describe a futility so vast, -so colossal. He had builded a little boat, and the sea had receded and -left him and his boat a thousand miles inland on the top of a mountain. -The war-fate had left Havana out of its plan and thus isolated Johnnie -and his several pounds of useful information. The war-fate left Havana -to become the somewhat indignant victim of a peaceful occupation at the -close of the conflict, and Johnnie's data were worth as much as a -carpenter's lien on the north pole. He had suffered and laboured for -about as complete a bit of absolute nothing as one could invent. If the -company which owned the sugar plantation had not generously continued -his salary during the war, he would not have been able to pay his -expenses on the amount allowed him by the government, which, by the -way, was a more complete bit of absolute nothing than one could -possibly invent. - - -IV - -I met Johnnie in Havana in October, 1898. If I remember rightly the -U.S.S. _Resolute_ and the U.S.S. _Scorpion_ were in the harbour, -but beyond these two terrible engines of destruction there were not as -yet any of the more stern signs of the American success. Many Americans -were to be seen in the streets of Havana where they were not in any way -molested. Among them was Johnnie in white duck and a straw hat, cool, -complacent and with eyes rather more steady than ever. I addressed him -upon the subject of his supreme failure, but I could not perturb his -philosophy. In reply he simply asked me to dinner. "Come to the Café -Aguacate at 7:30 to-night," he said. "I haven't been there in a long -time. We shall see if they cook as well as ever." I turned up promptly -and found Johnnie in a private room smoking a cigar in the presence of -a waiter who was blue in the gills. "I've ordered the dinner," he said -cheerfully. "Now I want to see if you won't be surprised how well they -can do here in Havana." I was surprised. I was dumfounded. Rarely in -the history of the world have two rational men sat down to such a -dinner. It must have taxed the ability and endurance of the entire -working force of the establishment to provide it. The variety of dishes -was of course related to the markets of Havana, but the abundance and -general profligacy was related only to Johnnie's imagination. Neither -of us had an appetite. Our fancies fled in confusion before this -puzzling luxury. I looked at Johnnie as if he were a native of Thibet. -I had thought him to be a most simple man, and here I found him -revelling in food like a fat, old senator of Rome's decadence. And if -the dinner itself put me to open-eyed amazement, the names of the wines -finished everything. Apparently Johnny had had but one standard, and -that was the cost. If a wine had been very expensive, he had ordered -it. I began to think him probably a maniac. At any rate, I was sure -that we were both fools. Seeing my fixed stare, he spoke with affected -languor: "I wish peacocks' brains and melted pearls were to be had here -in Havana. We'd have 'em." Then he grinned. As a mere skirmisher I -said, "In New York, we think we dine well; but really this, you -know--well--Havana----" - -Johnnie waved his hand pompously. "Oh, I know." - -Directly after coffee, Johnnie excused himself for a moment and left -the room. When he returned he said briskly, "Well, are you ready to -go?" As soon as we were in a cab and safely out of hearing of the Café -Aguacate, Johnnie lay back and laughed long and joyously. - -But I was very serious. "Look here, Johnnie," I said to him solemnly, -"when you invite me to dine with you, don't you ever do _that_ again. -And I'll tell you one thing--when you dine with me you will probably -get the ordinary table d'hôte." I was an older man. - -"Oh, that's all right," he cried. And then he too grew serious. "Well, -as far as I am concerned--as far as I am concerned," he said, "the war -is now over." - - - - -WAR MEMORIES - - -"But to get the real thing!" cried Vernall, the war-correspondent. "It -seems impossible! It is because war is neither magnificent nor squalid; -it is simply life, and an expression of life can always evade us. We -can never tell life, one to another, although sometimes we think we -can." - -When I climbed aboard the despatch-boat at Key West, the mate told me -irritably that as soon as we crossed the bar, we would find ourselves -monkey-climbing over heavy seas. It wasn't my fault, but he seemed to -insinuate that it was all a result of my incapacity. There were four -correspondents in the party. The leader of us came aboard with a huge -bunch of bananas, which he hung like a chandelier in the centre of the -tiny cabin. We made acquaintance over, around, and under this bunch of -bananas, which really occupied the cabin as a soldier occupies a sentry -box. But the bunch did not become really aggressive until we were well -at sea. Then it began to spar. With the first roll of the ship, it -launched its honest pounds at McCurdy and knocked him wildly through -the door to the deck-rail, where he hung cursing hysterically. Without -a moment's pause, it made for me. I flung myself head-first into my -bunk and watched the demon sweep Brownlow into a corner and wedge his -knee behind a sea-chest. Kary gave a shrill cry and fled. The bunch of -bananas swung to and fro, silent, determined, ferocious, looking for -more men. It had cleared a space for itself. My comrades looked in at -the door, calling upon me to grab the thing and hold it. I pointed out -to them the security and comfort of my position. They were angry. -Finally the mate came and lashed the thing so that it could not prowl -about the cabin and assault innocent war-correspondents. You see? War! -A bunch of bananas rampant because the ship rolled. - -In that early period of the war we were forced to continue our dreams. -And we were all dreamers, envisioning the seas with death grapples, -ship and ship. Even the navy grew cynical. Officers on the bridge -lifted their megaphones and told you in resigned voices that they were -out of ice, onions, and eggs. At other times, they would shoot quite -casually at us with six-pounders. This industry usually progressed in -the night, but it sometimes happened in the day. There was never any -resentment on our side, although at moments there was some nervousness. -They were impressively quick with their lanyards; our means of replying -to signals were correspondingly slow. They gave you opportunity to say, -"Heaven guard me!" Then they shot. But we recognised the propriety of -it. Everything was correct save the war, which lagged and lagged and -lagged. It did not play; it was not a gory giant; it was a bunch of -bananas swung in the middle of the cabin. - -Once we had the honour of being rammed at midnight by the U.S.S. -_Machias_. In fact the exceeding industry of the naval commanders of -the Cuban blockading fleet caused a certain liveliness to at times -penetrate our mediocre existence. We were all greatly entertained over -an immediate prospect of being either killed by rapid fire guns, cut in -half by the ram or merely drowned, but even our great longing for -diversion could not cause us to ever again go near the _Machias_ on a -dark night. We had sailed from Key West on a mission that had nothing -to do with the coast of Cuba, and steaming due east and some -thirty-five miles from the Cuban land, we did not think we were liable -to an affair with any of the fierce American cruisers. Suddenly a -familiar signal of red and white lights flashed like a brooch of jewels -on the pall that covered the sea. It was far away and tiny, but we knew -all about it. It was the electric question of an American war-ship and -it demanded a swift answer in kind. The man behind the gun! What about -the man in front of the gun? The war-ship signals vanished and the sea -presented nothing but a smoky black stretch lit with the hissing white -tops of the flying waves. A thin line of flame swept from a gun. - -Thereafter followed one of those silences which had become so -peculiarly instructive to the blockade-runner. Somewhere in the -darkness we knew that a slate-coloured cruiser, red below the -water-line and with a gold scroll on her bows, was flying over the -waves toward us, while upon the dark decks the men stood at general -quarters in silence about the long thin guns, and it was the law of -life and death that we should make true answer in about the twelfth -part of a second. Now I shall with regret disclose a certain dreadful -secret of the despatch-boat service. Our signals, far from being -electric, were two lanterns which we kept in a tub and covered with a -tarpaulin. The tub was placed just forward of the pilot-house, and when -we were accosted at night it was everybody's duty to scramble wildly -for the tub and grab out the lanterns and wave them. It amounted to a -slowness of speech. I remember a story of an army sentry who upon -hearing a noise in his front one dark night called his usual sharp -query. "Halt--who's there? Halt or I'll fire!" And getting no immediate -response he fired even as he had said, killing a man with a hair-lip -who unfortunately could not arrange his vocal machinery to reply in -season. We were something like a boat with a hair-lip. And sometimes it -was very trying to the nerves.... The pause was long. Then a voice -spoke from the sea through a megaphone. It was faint but clear. "What -ship is that?" No one hesitated over his answer in cases of this kind. -Everybody was desirous of imparting fullest information. There was -another pause. Then out of the darkness flew an American cruiser, -silent as death, handled as ferociously as if the devil commanded her. -Again the little voice hailed from the bridge. "What ship is that?" -Evidently the reply to the first hail had been misunderstood or not -heard. This time the voice rang with menace, menace of immediate and -certain destruction, and the last word was intoned savagely and -strangely across the windy darkness as if the officer would explain -that the cruiser was after either fools or the common enemy. The yells -in return did not stop her. She was hurling herself forward to ram us -amidships, and the people on the little _Three Friends_ looked at a -tall swooping bow, and it was keener than any knife that has ever been -made. As the cruiser lunged every man imagined the gallant and famous -but frail _Three Friends_ cut into two parts as neatly as if she had -been cheese. But there was a sheer and a hard sheer to starboard, and -down upon our quarter swung a monstrous thing larger than any ship in -the world--the U.S.S. _Machias_. She had a freeboard of about three -hundred feet and the top of her funnel was out of sight in the clouds -like an Alp. I shouldn't wonder that at the top of that funnel there -was a region of perpetual snow. And at a range which swiftly narrowed -to nothing every gun in her port-battery swung deliberately into aim. -It was closer, more deliciously intimate than a duel across a -handkerchief. We all had an opportunity of looking miles down the -muzzles of this festive artillery before came the collision. Then the -_Machias_ reeled her steel shoulder against the wooden side of the -_Three Friends_ and up went a roar as if a vast shingle roof had -fallen. The poor little tug dipped as if she meant to pass under the -war-ship, staggered and finally righted, trembling from head to foot. -The cries of the splintered timbers ceased. The men on the tug gazed at -each other with white faces shining faintly in the darkness. The -_Machias_ backed away even as the _Three Friends_ drew slowly ahead, -and again we were alone with the piping of the wind and the slash of -the gale-driven water. Later, from some hidden part of the sea, the -bullish eye of a searchlight looked at us and the widening white rays -bathed us in the glare. There was another hail. "Hello there, _Three -Friends_!" "Ay, ay, sir!" "Are you injured?" Our first mate had taken a -lantern and was studying the side of the tug, and we held our breath -for his answer. I was sure that he was going to say that we were -sinking. Surely there could be no other ending to this terrific -bloodthirsty assault. But the first mate said, "No, sir." Instantly the -glare of the search-light was gone; the _Machias_ was gone; the -incident was closed. - -I was dining once on board the flag-ship, the _New York_, armoured -cruiser. It was the junior officers' mess, and when the coffee came, a -young ensign went to the piano and began to bang out a popular tune. It -was a cheerful scene, and it resembled only a cheerful scene. Suddenly -we heard the whistle of the bos'n's mate, and directly above us, it -seemed, a voice, hoarse as that of a sea-lion, bellowed a command: "Man -the port battery." In a moment the table was vacant; the popular tune -ceased in a jangle. On the quarter-deck assembled a group of -officers--spectators. The quiet evening sea, lit with faint red lights, -went peacefully to the feet of a verdant shore. One could hear the -far-away measured tumbling of surf upon a reef. Only this sound pulsed -in the air. The great grey cruiser was as still as the earth, the sea, -and the sky. Then they let off a four-inch gun directly under my feet. -I thought it turned me a back-somersault. That was the effect upon my -mind. But it appears I did not move. The shell went carousing off to -the Cuban shore, and from the vegetation there spirted a cloud of dust. -Some of the officers on the quarter-deck laughed. Through their glasses -they had seen a Spanish column of cavalry much agitated by the -appearance of this shell among them. As far as I was concerned, there -was nothing but the spirt of dust from the side of a long-suffering -island. When I returned to my coffee I found that most of the young -officers had also returned. Japanese boys were bringing liquors. The -piano's clattering of the popular air was often interrupted by the boom -of a four-inch gun. A bunch of bananas! - -One day, our despatch-boat found the shores of Guantanamo Bay flowing -past on either side. It was at nightfall and on the eastward point a -small village was burning, and it happened that a fiery light was -thrown upon some palm-trees so that it made them into enormous crimson -feathers. The water was the colour of blue steel; the Cuban woods were -sombre; high shivered the gory feathers. The last boatloads of the -marine battalion were pulling for the beach. The marine officers gave -me generous hospitality to the camp on the hill. That night there was -an alarm and amid a stern calling of orders and a rushing of men, I -wandered in search of some other man who had no occupation. It turned -out to be the young assistant surgeon, Gibbs. We foregathered in the -centre of a square of six companies of marines. There was no firing. We -thought it rather comic. The next night there was an alarm; there was -some firing; we lay on our bellies; it was no longer comic. On the -third night the alarm came early; I went in search of Gibbs, but I soon -gave over an active search for the more congenial occupation of lying -flat and feeling the hot hiss of the bullets trying to cut my hair. For -the moment I was no longer a cynic. I was a child who, in a fit of -ignorance, had jumped into the vat of war. I heard somebody dying near -me. He was dying hard. Hard. It took him a long time to die. He -breathed as all noble machinery breathes when it is making its gallant -strife against breaking, breaking. But he was going to break. He was -going to break. It seemed to me, this breathing, the noise of a heroic -pump which strives to subdue a mud which comes upon it in tons. The -darkness was impenetrable. The man was lying in some depression within -seven feet of me. Every wave, vibration, of his anguish beat upon my -senses. He was long past groaning. There was only the bitter strife for -air which pulsed out into the night in a clear penetrating whistle with -intervals of terrible silence in which I held my own breath in the -common unconscious aspiration to help. I thought this man would never -die. I wanted him to die. Ultimately he died. At the moment the -adjutant came bustling along erect amid the spitting bullets. I knew -him by his voice. "Where's the doctor? There's some wounded men over -there. Where's the doctor?" A man answered briskly: "Just died this -minute, sir." It was as if he had said: "Just gone around the corner -this minute, sir." Despite the horror of this night's business, the -man's mind was somehow influenced by the coincidence of the adjutant's -calling aloud for the doctor within a few seconds of the doctor's -death. It--what shall I say? It interested him, this coincidence. - -The day broke by inches, with an obvious and maddening reluctance. From -some unfathomable source I procured an opinion that my friend was not -dead at all--the wild and quivering darkness had caused me to -misinterpret a few shouted words. At length the land brightened in a -violent atmosphere, the perfect dawning of a tropic day, and in this -light I saw a clump of men near me. At first I thought they were all -dead. Then I thought they were all asleep. The truth was that a group -of wan-faced, exhausted men had gone to sleep about Gibbs' body so -closely and in such abandoned attitudes that one's eye could not pick -the living from the dead until one saw that a certain head had beneath -it a great dark pool. - -In the afternoon a lot of men went bathing, and in the midst of this -festivity firing was resumed. It was funny to see the men come -scampering out of the water, grab at their rifles and go into action -attired in nought but their cartridge-belts. The attack of the -Spaniards had interrupted in some degree the services over the graves -of Gibbs and some others. I remember Paine came ashore with a bottle of -whisky which I took from him violently. My faithful shooting boots -began to hurt me, and I went to the beach and poulticed my feet in wet -clay, sitting on the little rickety pier near where the corrugated iron -cable-station showed how the shells slivered through it. Some marines, -desirous of mementoes, were poking with sticks in the smoking ruins of -the hamlet. Down in the shallow water crabs were meandering among the -weeds, and little fishes moved slowly in schools. - -The next day we went shooting. It was exactly like quail shooting. I'll -tell you. These guerillas who so cursed our lives had a well some five -miles away, and it was the only water supply within about twelve miles -of the marine camp. It was decided that it would be correct to go forth -and destroy the well. Captain Elliott, of C company, was to take his -men with Captain Spicer's company, D, out to the well, beat the enemy -away and destroy everything. He was to start at the next daybreak. He -asked me if I cared to go, and, of course, I accepted with glee; but -all that night I was afraid. Bitterly afraid. The moon was very bright, -shedding a magnificent radiance upon the trenches. I watched the men of -C and D companies lying so tranquilly--some snoring, confound -them--whereas I was certain that I could never sleep with the weight of -a coming battle upon my mind, a battle in which the poor life of a -war-correspondent might easily be taken by a careless enemy. But if I -was frightened I was also very cold. It was a chill night and I wanted -a heavy top-coat almost as much as I wanted a certificate of immunity -from rifle bullets. These two feelings were of equal importance to my -mind. They were twins. Elliott came and flung a tent-fly over -Lieutenant Bannon and me as we lay on the ground back of the men. Then -I was no longer cold, but I was still afraid, for tent-flies cannot -mend a fear. In the morning I wished for some mild attack of disease, -something that would incapacitate me for the business of going out -gratuitously to be bombarded. But I was in an awkwardly healthy state, -and so I must needs smile and look pleased with my prospects. We were -to be guided by fifty Cubans, and I gave up all dreams of a -postponement when I saw them shambling off in single file through the -cactus. We followed presently. "Where you people goin' to?" "Don't -know, Jim." "Well, good luck to you, boys." This was the world's lazy -inquiry and conventional God-speed. Then the mysterious wilderness -swallowed us. - -The men were silent because they were ordered to be silent, but -whatever faces I could observe were marked with a look of serious -meditation. As they trudged slowly in single file they were reflecting -upon--what? I don't know. But at length we came to ground more open. -The sea appeared on our right, and we saw the gunboat _Dolphin_ -steaming along in a line parallel to ours. I was as glad to see her as -if she had called out my name. The trail wound about the bases of some -high bare spurs. If the Spaniards had occupied them I don't see how we -could have gone further. But upon them were only the dove-voiced -guerilla scouts calling back into the hills the news of our approach. -The effect of sound is of course relative. I am sure I have never heard -such a horrible sound as the beautiful cooing of the wood-dove when I -was certain that it came from the yellow throat of a guerilla. Elliott -sent Lieutenant Lucas with his platoon to ascend the hills and cover -our advance by the trail. We halted and watched them climb, a long -black streak of men in the vivid sunshine of the hillside. We did not -know how tall were these hills until we saw Lucas and his men on top, -and they were no larger than specks. We marched on until, at last, we -heard--it seemed in the sky--the sputter of firing. This devil's dance -was begun. The proper strategic movement to cover the crisis seemed to -me to be to run away home and swear I had never started on this -expedition. But Elliott yelled: "Now, men; straight up this hill." The -men charged up against the cactus, and, because I cared for the opinion -of others, I found myself tagging along close at Elliott's heels. I -don't know how I got up that hill, but I think it was because I was -afraid to be left behind. The immediate rear did not look safe. The -crowd of strong young marines afforded the only spectacle of -provisional security. So I tagged along at Elliott's heels. The hill -was as steep as a Swiss roof. From it sprang out great pillars of -cactus, and the human instinct was to assist one's self in the ascent -by grasping cactus with one's hands. I remember the watch I had to keep -upon this human instinct even when the sound of the bullets was -attracting my nervous attention. However, the attractive thing to my -sense at the time was the fact that every man of the marines was also -climbing away like mad. It was one thing for Elliott, Spicer, Neville, -Shaw and Bannon; it was another thing for me; but--what in the devil -was it to the men? Not the same thing surely. It was perfectly easy for -any marine to get overcome by the burning heat and, lying down, -bequeath the work and the danger to his comrades. The fine thing about -"the men" is that you can't explain them. I mean when you take them -collectively. They do a thing, and afterward you find that they have -done it because they have done it. However, when Elliott arrived at the -top of the ridge, myself and many other men were with him. But there -was no battle scene. Off on another ridge we could see Lucas' men and -the Cubans peppering away into a valley. The bullets about our ears -were really intended to lodge in them. We went over there. - -I walked along the firing line and looked at the men. I kept somewhat -on what I shall call the _lee_ side of the ridge. Why? Because I was -afraid of being shot. No other reason. Most of the men as they lay -flat, shooting, looked contented, almost happy. They were pleased, -these men, at the situation. I don't know. I cannot imagine. But they -were pleased, at any rate. I wasn't pleased. I was picturing defeat. I -was saying to myself:--"Now if the enemy should suddenly do so-and-so, -or so-and-so, why--what would become of me?" During these first few -moments I did not see the Spanish position because--I was afraid to -look at it. Bullets were hissing and spitting over the crest of the -ridge in such showers as to make observation to be a task for a brave -man. No, now, look here, why the deuce should I have stuck my head up, -eh? Why? Well, at any rate, I didn't until it seemed to be a far less -thing than most of the men were doing as if they liked it. Then I saw -nothing. At least it was only the bottom of a small valley. In this -valley there was a thicket--a big thicket--and this thicket seemed to -be crowded with a mysterious class of persons who were evidently trying -to kill us. Our enemies? Yes--perhaps--I suppose so. Leave that to the -people in the streets at home. They know and cry against the public -enemy, but when men go into actual battle not one in a thousand -concerns himself with an animus against the men who face him. The great -desire is to beat them--beat them whoever they are as a matter, first, -of personal safety, second, of personal glory. It is always safest to -make the other chap quickly run away. And as he runs away, one feels, -as one tries to hit him in the back and knock him sprawling, that he -must be a very good and sensible fellow. But these people apparently -did not mean to run away. They clung to their thicket and, amid the -roar of the firing, one could sometimes hear their wild yells of insult -and defiance. They were actually the most obstinate, headstrong, mulish -people that you could ever imagine. The _Dolphin_ was throwing shells -into their immediate vicinity and the fire from the marines and Cubans -was very rapid and heavy, but still those incomprehensible mortals -remained in their thicket. The scene on the top of the ridge was very -wild, but there was only one truly romantic figure. This was a Cuban -officer who held in one hand a great glittering machete and in the -other a cocked revolver. He posed like a statue of victory. Afterwards -he confessed to me that he alone had been responsible for the winning -of the fight. But outside of this splendid person it was simply a -picture of men at work, men terribly hard at work, red-faced, sweating, -gasping toilers. A Cuban negro soldier was shot though the heart and -one man took the body on his back and another took it by its feet and -trundled away toward the rear looking precisely like a wheelbarrow. A -man in C company was shot through the ankle and he sat behind the line -nursing his wound. Apparently he was pleased with it. It seemed to suit -him. I don't know why. But beside him sat a comrade with a face drawn, -solemn and responsible like that of a New England spinster at the -bedside of a sick child. - -The fight banged away with a roar like a forest fire. Suddenly a marine -wriggled out of the firing line and came frantically to me. "Say, young -feller, I'll give you five dollars for a drink of whisky." He tried to -force into my hand a gold piece. "Go to the devil," said I, deeply -scandalised. "Besides, I haven't got any whisky," "No, but look here," -he beseeched me. "If I don't get a drink I'll die. And I'll give you -five dollars for it. Honest, I will." I finally tried to escape from -him by walking away, but he followed at my heels, importuning me with -all the exasperating persistence of a professional beggar and trying to -force this ghastly gold piece into my hand. I could not shake him off, -and amid that clatter of furious fighting I found myself intensely -embarrassed, and glancing fearfully this way and that way to make sure -that people did not see me, the villain and his gold. In vain I assured -him that if I had any whisky I should place it at his disposal. He -could not be turned away. I thought of the European expedient in such a -crisis--to jump in a cab. But unfortunately---- In the meantime I had -given up my occupation of tagging at Captain Elliott's heels, because -his business required that he should go into places of great danger. -But from time to time I was under his attention. Once he turned to me -and said: "Mr. Vernall, will you go and satisfy yourself who those -people are?" Some men had appeared on a hill about six hundred yards -from our left flank. "Yes, sir," cried I with, I assure you, the finest -alacrity and cheerfulness, and my tone proved to me that I had -inherited histrionic abilities. This tone was of course a black lie, -but I went off briskly and was as jaunty as a real soldier while all -the time my heart was in my boots and I was cursing the day that saw me -landed on the shores of the tragic isle. If the men on the distant hill -had been guerillas, my future might have been seriously jeopardised, -but I had not gone far toward them when I was able to recognise the -uniforms of the marine corps. Whereupon I scampered back to the firing -line and with the same alacrity and cheerfulness reported my -information. I mention to you that I was afraid, because there were -about me that day many men who did not seem to be afraid at all, men -with quiet, composed faces who went about this business as if they -proceeded from a sense of habit. They were not old soldiers; they were -mainly recruits, but many of them betrayed all the emotion and merely -the emotion that one sees in the face of a man earnestly at work. - -I don't know how long the action lasted. I remember deciding in my own -mind that the Spaniards stood forty minutes. This was a mere arbitrary -decision based on nothing. But at any rate we finally arrived at the -satisfactory moment when the enemy began to run away. I shall never -forget how my courage increased. And then began the great bird -shooting. From the far side of the thicket arose an easy slope covered -with plum-coloured bush. The Spaniards broke in coveys of from six to -fifteen men--or birds--and swarmed up this slope. The marines on our -ridge then had some fine, open field shooting. No charge could be made -because the shells from the _Dolphin_ were helping the Spaniards to -evacuate the thicket, so the marines had to be content with this -extraordinary paraphrase of a kind of sport. It was strangely like the -original. The shells from the _Dolphin_ were the dogs; dogs who went in -and stirred out the game. The marines were suddenly gentlemen in -leggings, alive with the sharp instinct which marks the hunter. The -Spaniards were the birds. Yes, they were the birds, but I doubt if they -would sympathise with my metaphors. - -We destroyed their camp, and when the tiled roof of a burning house -fell with a crash it was so like the crash of a strong volley of -musketry that we all turned with a start, fearing that we would have to -fight again on that same day. And this struck me at least as being an -impossible thing. They gave us water from the _Dolphin_ and we filled -our canteens. None of the men were particularly jubilant. They did not -altogether appreciate their victory. They were occupied in being glad -that the fight was over. I discovered to my amazement that we were on -the summit of a hill so high that our released eyes seemed to sweep -over half the world. The vast stretch of sea shimmering like fragile -blue silk in the breeze, lost itself ultimately in an indefinite pink -haze, while in the other direction, ridge after ridge, ridge after -ridge, rolled brown and arid into the north. The battle had been fought -high in the air--where the rain clouds might have been. That is why -everybody's face was the colour of beetroot and men lay on the ground -and only swore feebly when the cactus spurs sank into them. - -Finally we started for camp. Leaving our wounded, our cactus -pincushions, and our heat-prostrated men on board the _Dolphin_. I did -not see that the men were elate or even grinning with satisfaction. -They seemed only anxious to get to food and rest. And yet it was plain -that Elliott and his men had performed a service that would prove -invaluable to the security and comfort of the entire battalion. They -had driven the guerillas to take a road along which they would have to -proceed for fifteen miles before they could get as much water as would -wet the point of a pin. And by the destruction of a well at the scene -of the fight, Elliott made an arid zone almost twenty miles wide -between the enemy and the base camp. In Cuba this is the best of -protections. However, a cup of coffee! Time enough to think of a -brilliant success after one had had a cup of coffee. The long line -plodded wearily through the dusky jungle which was never again to be -alive with ambushes. - -It was dark when we stumbled into camp, and I was sad with an -ungovernable sadness, because I was too tired to remember where I had -left my kit. But some of my colleagues were waiting on the beach, and -they put me on a despatch-boat to take my news to a Jamaica -cable-station. The appearance of this despatch-boat struck me with -wonder. It was reminiscent of something with which I had been familiar -in early years. I looked with dull surprise at three men of the -engine-room force, who sat aft on some bags of coal smoking their pipes -and talking as if there had never been any battles fought anywhere. The -sudden clang of the gong made me start and listen eagerly, as if I -would be asking: "What was that?" The chunking of the screw affected me -also, but I seemed to relate it to a former and pleasing experience. -One of the correspondents on board immediately began to tell me of the -chief engineer, who, he said, was a comic old character. I was taken to -see this marvel, which presented itself as a gray-bearded man with an -oil can, who had the cynical, malicious, egotistic eye of proclaimed -and admired ignorance. I looked dazedly at the venerable impostor. What -had he to do with battles--the humming click of the locks, the odour of -burnt cotton, the bullets, the firing? My friend told the scoundrel -that I was just returned from the afternoon's action. He said: "That -so?" And looked at me with a smile, faintly, faintly derisive. You see? -I had just come out of my life's most fiery time, and that old devil -looked at me with that smile. What colossal conceit. The -four-times-damned doddering old head-mechanic of a derelict junk shop. -The whole trouble lay in the fact that I had not shouted out with -mingled awe and joy as he stood there in his wisdom and experience, -with all his ancient saws and home-made epigrams ready to fire. - -My friend took me to the cabin. What a squalid hole! My heart sank. The -reward after the labour should have been a great airy chamber, a -gigantic four-poster, iced melons, grilled birds, wine, and the -delighted attendance of my friends. When I had finished my cablegram, I -retired to a little shelf of a berth, which reeked of oil, while the -blankets had soaked recently with sea-water. The vessel heeled to -leaward in spasmodic attempts to hurl me out, and I resisted with the -last of my strength. The infamous pettiness of it all! I thought the -night would never end. "But never mind," I said to myself at last, -"to-morrow in Fort Antonio I shall have a great bath and fine raiment, -and I shall dine grandly and there will be lager beer on ice. And there -will be attendants to run when I touch a bell, and I shall catch every -interested romantist in the town, and spin him the story of the fight -at Cusco." We reached Fort Antonio and I fled from the cable office to -the hotel. I procured the bath and, as I donned whatever fine raiment I -had foraged, I called the boy and pompously told him of a dinner--a -real dinner, with furbelows and complications, and yet with a basis of -sincerity. He looked at me calf-like for a moment, and then he went -away. After a long interval, the manager himself appeared and asked me -some questions which led me to see that he thought I had attempted to -undermine and disintegrate the intellect of the boy, by the elocution -of Arabic incantations. Well, never mind. In the end, the manager of -the hotel elicited from me that great cry, that cry which during the -war, rang piteously from thousands of throats, that last grand cry of -anguish and despair: "_Well, then, in the name of God, can I have a -cold bottle of beer?_" - -Well, you see to what war brings men? War is death, and a plague of the -lack of small things, and toil. Nor did I catch my sentimentalists and -pour forth my tale to them, and thrill, appal, and fascinate them. -However, they did feel an interest in me, for I heard a lady at the -hotel ask: "Who _is_ that chap in the very dirty jack-boots?" So you -see, that whereas you can be very much frightened upon going into -action, you can also be greatly annoyed after you have come out. - -Later, I fell into the hands of one of my closest friends, and he -mercilessly outlined a scheme for landing to the west of Santiago and -getting through the Spanish lines to some place from which we could -view the Spanish squadron lying in the harbour. There was rumour that -the _Viscaya_ had escaped, he said, and it would be very nice to make -sure of the truth. So we steamed to a point opposite a Cuban camp which -my friend knew, and flung two crop-tailed Jamaica polo ponies into the -sea. We followed in a small boat and were met on the beach by a small -Cuban detachment who immediately caught our ponies and saddled them for -us. I suppose we felt rather god-like. We were almost the first -Americans they had seen and they looked at us with eyes of grateful -affection. I don't suppose many men have the experience of being looked -at with eyes of grateful affection. They guide us to a Cuban camp -where, in a little palm-bark hut, a black-faced lieutenant-colonel was -lolling in a hammock. I couldn't understand what was said, but at any -rate he must have ordered his half-naked orderly to make coffee, for it -was done. It was a dark syrup in smoky tin-cups, but it was better than -the cold bottle of beer which I did not drink in Jamaica. - -The Cuban camp was an expeditious affair of saplings and palm-bark tied -with creepers. It could be burned to the ground in fifteen minutes and -in ten reduplicated. The soldiers were in appearance an absolutely -good-natured set of half-starved ragamuffins. Their breeches hung in -threads about their black legs and their shirts were as nothing. They -looked like a collection of real tropic savages at whom some -philanthropist had flung a bundle of rags and some of the rags had -stuck here and there. But their condition was now a habit. I doubt if -they knew they were half-naked. Anyhow they didn't care. No more they -should; the weather was warm. This lieutenant-colonel gave us an escort -of five or six men and we went up into the mountains, lying flat on our -Jamaica ponies while they went like rats up and down extraordinary -trails. In the evening we reached the camp of a major who commanded the -outposts. It was high, high in the hills. The stars were as big as -cocoanuts. We lay in borrowed hammocks and watched the firelight gleam -blood-red on the trees. I remember an utterly naked negro squatting, -crimson, by the fire and cleaning an iron-pot. Some voices were singing -an Afric wail of forsaken love and death. And at dawn we were to try to -steal through the Spanish lines. I was very, very sorry. - -In the cold dawn the situation was the same, but somehow courage seemed -to be in the breaking day. I went off with the others quite cheerfully. -We came to where the pickets stood behind bulwarks of stone in -frameworks of saplings. They were peering across a narrow cloud-steeped -gulch at a dull fire marking a Spanish post. There was some palaver and -then, with fifteen men, we descended the side of this mountain, going -down into the chill blue-and-grey clouds. We had left our horses with -the Cuban pickets. We proceeded stealthily, for we were already within -range of the Spanish pickets. At the bottom of the cañon it was still -night. A brook, a regular salmon-stream, brawled over the rocks. There -were grassy banks and most delightful trees. The whole valley was a -sylvan fragrance. But--the guide waved his arm and scowled warningly, -and in a moment we were off, threading thickets, climbing hills, -crawling through fields on our hands and knees, sometimes sweeping like -seventeen phantoms across a Spanish road. I was in a dream, but I kept -my eye on the guide and halted to listen when he halted to listen and -ambled onward when he ambled onward. Sometimes he turned and pantomimed -as ably and fiercely as a man being stung by a thousand hornets. Then -we knew that the situation was extremely delicate. We were now of -course well inside the Spanish lines and we ascended a great hill which -overlooked the harbour of Santiago. There, tranquilly at anchor, lay -the _Oquendo_, the _Maria Theresa_, the _Christobal Colon_, the -_Viscaya_, the _Pluton_, the _Furor_. The bay was white in the sun and -the great blacked-hull armoured cruisers were impressive in a dignity -massive yet graceful. We did not know that they were all doomed ships, -soon to go out to a swift death. My friend drew maps and things while I -devoted myself to complete rest, blinking lazily at the Spanish -squadron. We did not know that we were the last Americans to view them -alive and unhurt and at peace. Then we retraced our way, at the same -noiseless canter. I did not understand my condition until I considered -that we were well through the Spanish lines and practically out of -danger. Then I discovered that I was a dead man. The nervous force -having evaporated I was a mere corpse. My limbs were of dough and my -spinal cord burned within me as if it were red-hot wire. But just at -this time we were discovered by a Spanish patrol, and I ascertained -that I was not dead at all. We ultimately reached the foot of the -mother-mountain on whose shoulders were the Cuban pickets, and here I -was so sure of safety that I could not resist the temptation to die -again. I think I passed into eleven distinct stupors during the ascent -of that mountain while the escort stood leaning on their Remingtons. We -had done twenty-five miles at a sort of a man-gallop, never once using -a beaten track, but always going promiscuously through the jungle and -over the rocks. And many of the miles stood straight on end so that it -was as hard to come down as it was to go up. But during my stupors, the -escort _stood_, mind you, and chatted in low voices. For all the signs -they showed, we might have been starting. And they had had nothing to -eat but mangoes for over eight days. Previous to the eight days they -had been living on mangoes and the carcase of a small lean pony. They -were, in fact, of the stuff of Fenimore Cooper's Indians, only they -made no preposterous orations. At the major's camp, my friend and I -agreed that if our worthy escort would send down a representative with -us to the coast, we would send back to them whatever we could spare -from the stores of our despatch-boat. With one voice the escort -answered that they themselves would go the additional four leagues, as -in these starving times they did not care to trust a representative, -thank you. "They can't do it; they'll peg out; there must be a limit," -I said. "No," answered my friend. "They're all right; they'd run three -times around the whole island for a mouthful of beer." So we saddled up -and put off with our fifteen Cuban infantrymen wagging along tirelessly -behind us. Sometimes, at the foot of a precipitous hill, a man asked -permission to cling to my horse's tail, and then the Jamaica pony would -snake him to the summit so swiftly that only his toes seemed to touch -the rocks. And for this assistance the man was grateful. When we -crowned the last great ridge we saw our squadron to the eastward spread -in its patient semicircular about the mouth of the harbour. But as we -wound towards the beach we saw a more dramatic thing--our own -despatch-boat leaving the rendezvous and putting off to sea. Evidently -we were late. Behind me were fifteen stomachs, empty. It was a -frightful situation. My friend and I charged for the beach and those -fifteen fools began to _run_. - -It was no use. The despatch-boat went gaily away trailing black smoke -behind her. We turned in distress wondering what we could say to that -abused escort. If they massacred us, I felt that it would be merely a -virtuous reply to fate and they should in no ways be blamed. There are -some things which a man's feelings will not allow him to endure after a -diet of mangoes and pony. However, we perceived to our amazement that -they were not indignant at all. They simply smiled and made a gesture -which expressed an habitual pessimism. It was a philosophy which denied -the existence of everything but mangoes and pony. It was the Americans -who refused to be comforted. I made a deep vow with myself that I would -come as soon as possible and play a regular Santa Claus to that -splendid escort. But--we put to sea in a dug-out with two black boys. -The escort waved us a hearty good-bye from the shore and I never saw -them again. I hope they are all on the police-force in the new -Santiago. - -In time we were rescued from the dug-out by our despatch-boat, and we -relieved our feelings by over-rewarding the two black boys. In fact -they reaped a harvest because of our emotion over our failure to fill -the gallant stomachs of the escort. They were two rascals. We steamed -to the flagship and were given permission to board her. Admiral Sampson -is to me the most interesting personality of the war. I would not know -how to sketch him for you even if I could pretend to sufficient -material. Anyhow, imagine, first of all, a marble block of impassivity -out of which is carved the figure of an old man. Endow this with life, -and you've just begun. Then you must discard all your pictures of -bluff, red-faced old gentlemen who roar against the gale, and -understand that the quiet old man is a sailor and an admiral. This will -be difficult; if I told you he was anything else it would be easy. He -resembles other types; it is his distinction not to resemble the -preconceived type of his standing. When first I met him I was impressed -that he was immensely bored by the war and with the command of the -North Atlantic Squadron. I perceived a manner where I thought I -perceived a mood, a point of view. Later, he seemed so indifferent to -small things which bore upon large things that I bowed to his apathy as -a thing unprecedented, marvellous. Still I mistook a manner for a mood. -Still I could not understand that this was the way of the man. I am not -to blame, for my communication was slight and depended upon -sufferance--upon, in fact, the traditional courtesy of the navy. But -finally I saw that it was all manner, that hidden in his indifferent, -even apathetic, manner, there was the alert, sure, fine mind of the -best sea-captain that America has produced since--since Farragut? I -don't know. I think--since Hull. - -Men follow heartily when they are well led. They balk at trifles when a -blockhead cries go on. For my part, an impressive thing of the war is -the absolute devotion to Admiral Sampson's person--no, to his judgment -and wisdom--which was paid by his ship-commanders--Evans of the _Iowa_, -Taylor of the _Oregon_, Higginson of the _Massachusetts_, Phillips of -the _Texas_, and all the other captains--barring one. Once, afterward, -they called upon him to avenge himself upon a rival--they were there -and they would have to say--but he said no-o-o, he guessed it--wouldn't -do--any--g-o-oo-o-d--to the--service. - -Men feared him, but he never made threats; men tumbled heels over head -to obey him, but he never gave a sharp order; men loved him, but he -said no word, kindly or unkindly; men cheered for him and he said: "Who -are they yelling for?" Men behaved badly to him and he said nothing. -Men thought of glory and he considered the management of ships. All -without a sound. A noiseless campaign--on his part. No bunting, no -arches, no fireworks; nothing but the perfect management of a big -fleet. That is a record for you. No trumpets, no cheers of the -populace. Just plain, pure, unsauced accomplishment. But ultimately he -will reap his reward in--in what? In text-books on sea-campaigns. No -more. The people choose their own and they choose the kind they like. -Who has a better right? Anyhow he is a great man. And when you are once -started you can continue to be a great man without the help of bouquets -and banquets. He don't need them--bless your heart. - -The flag-ship's battle-hatches were down, and between decks it was -insufferable despite the electric fans. I made my way somewhat -forwards, past the smart orderly, past the companion, on to the den of -the junior mess. Even there they were playing cards in somebody's -cabin. "Hello, old man. Been ashore? How'd it look? It's your deal, -Chick." There was nothing but steamy wet heat and the decent -suppression of the consequent ill-tempers. The junior officers' -quarters were no more comfortable than the admiral's cabin. I had -expected it to be so because of my remembrance of their gay spirits. -But they were not gay. They were sweltering. Hello, old man, had I been -ashore? I fled to the deck, where other officers not on duty were -smoking quiet cigars. The hospitality of the officers of the flag-ship -is another charming memory of the war. - -I rolled into my berth on the despatch-boat that night feeling a -perfect wonder of the day. Was the figure that leaned over the -card-game on the flag-ship, the figure with a whisky and soda in its -hand and a cigar in its teeth--was it identical with the figure -scrambling, afraid of its life, through Cuban jungle? Was it the figure -of the situation of the fifteen pathetic hungry men? It was the same -and it went to sleep, hard sleep. I don't know where we voyaged. I -think it was Jamaica. But, at any rate, upon the morning of our return -to the Cuban coast, we found the sea alive with transports--United -States transports from Tampa, containing the Fifth Army Corps under -Major-General Shafter. The rigging and the decks of these ships were -black with men and everybody wanted to land first. I landed, -ultimately, and immediately began to look for an acquaintance. The -boats were banged by the waves against a little flimsy dock. I fell -ashore somehow, but I did not at once find an acquaintance. I talked to -a private in the 2d Massachusetts Volunteers who told me that he was -going to write war correspondence for a Boston newspaper. This -statement did not surprise me. - -There was a straggly village, but I followed the troops who at this -time seemed to be moving out by companies. I found three other -correspondents and it was luncheon time. Somebody had two bottles of -Bass, but it was so warm that it squirted out in foam. There was no -firing; no noise of any kind. An old shed was full of soldiers loafing -pleasantly in the shade. It was a hot, dusty, sleepy afternoon; bees -hummed. We saw Major-General Lawton standing with his staff under a -tree. He was smiling as if he would say: "Well, this will be better -than chasing Apaches." His division had the advance, and so he had the -right to be happy. A tall man with a grey moustache, light but very -strong, an ideal cavalryman. He appealed to one all the more because of -the vague rumours that his superiors--some of them--were going to take -mighty good care that he shouldn't get much to do. It was rather -sickening to hear such talk, but later we knew that most of it must -have been mere lies. - -Down by the landing-place a band of correspondents were making a sort -of permanent camp. They worked like Trojans, carrying wall-tents, cots, -and boxes of provisions. They asked me to join them, but I looked -shrewdly at the sweat on their faces and backed away. The next day the -army left this permanent camp eight miles to the rear. The day became -tedious. I was glad when evening came. I sat by a camp-fire and -listened to a soldier of the 8th Infantry who told me that he was the -first enlisted man to land. I lay pretending to appreciate him, but in -fact I considered him a great shameless liar. Less than a month ago, I -learned that every word he said was gospel truth. I was much surprised. -We went for breakfast to the camp of the 20th Infantry, where Captain -Greene and his subaltern, Exton, gave us tomatoes stewed with hard -bread and coffee. Later, I discovered Greene and Exton down at the -beach good-naturedly dodging the waves which seemed to be trying to -prevent them from washing the breakfast dishes. I felt tremendously -ashamed because my cup and my plate were there, you know, and---- Fate -provides some men greased opportunities for making dizzy jackasses of -themselves and I fell a victim to my flurry on this occasion. I was a -blockhead. I walked away blushing. What? The battles? Yes, I saw -something of all of them. I made up my mind that the next time I met -Greene and Exton I'd say: "Look here; why didn't you tell me you had to -wash your own dishes that morning so that I could have helped? I felt -beastly when I saw you scrubbing there. And me walking around idly." -But I never saw Captain Greene again. I think he is in the Philippines -now fighting the Tagals. The next time I saw Exton--what? Yes, La -Guasimas. That was the "rough rider fight." However, the next time I -saw Exton I--what do you think? I forgot to speak about it. But if ever -I meet Greene or Exton again--even if it should be twenty years--I am -going to say, first thing: "Why----" What? Yes. Roosevelt's regiment -and the First and Tenth Regular Cavalry. I'll say, first thing: "Say, -why didn't you tell me you had to wash your own dishes, that morning, -so that I could have helped?" My stupidity will be on my conscience -until I die, if, before that, I do not meet either Greene or Exton. Oh, -yes, you are howling for blood, but I tell you it is more emphatic that -I lost my tooth-brush. Did I tell you that? Well, I lost it, you see, -and I thought of it for ten hours at a stretch. Oh, yes--he? He was -shot through the heart. But, look here, I contend that the French cable -company buncoed us throughout the war. What? Him? My tooth-brush I -never found, but he died of his wound in time. Most of the regular -soldiers carried their tooth-brushes stuck in the bands of their hats. -It made a quaint military decoration. I have had a line of a thousand -men pass me in the jungle and not a hat lacking the simple emblem. - -The first of July? All right. My Jamaica polo-pony was not present. He -was still in the hills to the westward of Santiago, but the Cubans had -promised to fetch him to me. But my kit was easy to carry. It had -nothing superfluous in it but a pair of spurs which made me indignant -every time I looked at them. Oh, but I must tell you about a man I met -directly after the La Guasimas fight. Edward Marshall, a correspondent -whom I had known with a degree of intimacy for seven years, was -terribly hit in that fight and asked me if I would not go to -Siboney--the base--and convey the news to his colleagues of the _New -York Journal_ and round up some assistance. I went to Siboney, and -there was not a _Journal_ man to be seen, although usually you judged -from appearances that the _Journal_ staff was about as large as the -army. Presently I met two correspondents, strangers to me, but I -questioned them, saying that Marshall was badly shot and wished for -such succour as _Journal_ men could bring from their despatch-boat. And -one of these correspondents replied. He is the man I wanted to -describe. I love him as a brother. He said: "Marshall? Marshall? Why, -Marshall isn't in Cuba at all. He left for New York just before the -expedition sailed from Tampa." I said: "Beg pardon, but I remarked that -Marshall was shot in the fight this morning, and have you seen any -_Journal_ people?" After a pause, he said: "I am sure Marshall is not -down here at all. He's in New York." I said: "Pardon me, but I remarked -that Marshall was shot in the fight this morning, and have you seen any -_Journal_ people?" He said: "No; now look here, you must have gotten -two chaps mixed somehow. Marshall isn't in Cuba at all. How could he be -shot?" I said: "Pardon me, but I remarked that Marshall was shot in the -fight this morning, and have you seen any _Journal_ people?" He said: -"But it can't really be Marshall, you know, for the simple reason that -he's not down here." I clasped my hands to my temples, gave one -piercing cry to heaven and fled from his presence. I couldn't go on -with him. He excelled me at all points. I have faced death by bullets, -fire, water, and disease, but to die thus--to wilfully batter myself -against the ironclad opinion of this mummy--no, no, not that. In the -meantime, it was admitted that a correspondent was shot, be his name -Marshall, Bismarck, or Louis XIV. Now, supposing the name of this -wounded correspondent had been Bishop Potter? Or Jane Austen? Or -Bernhardt? Or Henri Georges Stephane Adolphe Opper de Blowitz? What -effect--never mind. - -We will proceed to July 1st. On that morning I marched with my -kit--having everything essential save a tooth-brush--the entire army -put me to shame, since there must have been at least fifteen thousand -tooth-brushes in the invading force--I marched with my kit on the road -to Santiago. It was a fine morning and everybody--the doomed and the -immunes--how could we tell one from the other--everybody was in the -highest spirits. We were enveloped in forest, but we could hear, from -ahead, everybody peppering away at everybody. It was like the roll of -many drums. This was Lawton over at El Caney. I reflected with -complacency that Lawton's division did not concern me in a professional -way. That was the affair of another man. My business was with Kent's -division and Wheeler's division. We came to El Poso--a hill at nice -artillery range from the Spanish defences. Here Grimes's battery was -shooting a duel with one of the enemy's batteries. Scovel had -established a little camp in the rear of the guns and a servant had -made coffee. I invited Whigham to have coffee, and the servant added -some hard biscuit and tinned tongue. I noted that Whigham was staring -fixedly over my shoulder, and that he waved away the tinned tongue with -some bitterness. It was a horse, a dead horse. Then a mule, which had -been shot through the nose, wandered up and looked at Whigham. We ran -away. - -On top of the hill one had a fine view of the Spanish lines. We stared -across almost a mile of jungle to ash-coloured trenches on the military -crest of the ridge. A goodly distance back of this position were white -buildings, all flying great red-cross flags. The jungle beneath us -rattled with firing and the Spanish trenches crackled out regular -volleys, but all this time there was nothing to indicate a tangible -enemy. In truth, there was a man in a Panama hat strolling to and fro -behind one of the Spanish trenches, gesticulating at times with a -walking stick. A man in a Panama hat, walking with a stick! That was -the strangest sight of my life--that symbol, that quaint figure of -Mars. The battle, the thunderous row, was his possession. He was the -master. He mystified us all with his infernal Panama hat and his -wretched walking-stick. From near his feet came volleys and from near -his side came roaring shells, but he stood there alone, visible, the -one tangible thing. He was a Colossus, and he was half as high as a -pin, this being. Always somebody would be saying: "Who _can_ that -fellow be?" - -Later, the American guns shelled the trenches and a blockhouse near -them, and Mars had vanished. It could not have been death. One cannot -kill Mars. But there was one other figure, which arose to symbolic -dignity. The balloon of our signal corps had swung over the tops of the -jungle's trees toward the Spanish trenches. Whereat the balloon and the -man in the Panama hat and with a walking stick--whereat these two waged -tremendous battle. - -Suddenly the conflict became a human thing. A little group of blue -figures appeared on the green of the terrible hillside. It was some of -our infantry. The attaché of a great empire was at my shoulder, and he -turned to me and spoke with incredulity and scorn. "Why, they're trying -to take the position," he cried, and I admitted meekly that I thought -they were. "But they can't do it, you know," he protested vehemently. -"It's impossible." And--good fellow that he was--he began to grieve and -wail over a useless sacrifice of gallant men. "It's plucky, you know! -By Gawd, it's plucky! But _they can't do it_!" He was profoundly -moved; his voice was quite broken. "It will simply be a hell of a -slaughter with no good coming out of it." - -The trail was already crowded with stretcher-bearers and with wounded -men who could walk. One had to stem a tide of mute agony. But I don't -know that it was mute agony. I only know that it was mute. It was -something in which the silence or, more likely, the reticence was an -appalling and inexplicable fact. One's senses seemed to demand that -these men should cry out. But you could really find wounded men who -exhibited all the signs of a pleased and contented mood. When thinking -of it now it seems strange beyond words. But at the time--I don't -know--it did not attract one's wonder. A man with a hole in his arm or -his shoulder, or even in the leg below the knee, was often whimsical, -comic. "Well, this ain't exactly what I enlisted for, boys. If I'd been -told about this in Tampa, I'd have resigned from th' army. Oh, yes, you -can get the same thing if you keep on going. But I think the Spaniards -may run out of ammunition in the course of a week or ten days." Then -suddenly one would be confronted by the awful majesty of a man shot in -the face. Particularly I remember one. He had a great dragoon -moustache, and the blood streamed down his face to meet this moustache -even as a torrent goes to meet the jammed log, and then swarmed out to -the tips and fell in big slow drops. He looked steadily into my eyes; I -was ashamed to return his glance. You understand? It is very -curious--all that. - -The two lines of battle were royally whacking away at each other, and -there was no rest or peace in all that region. The modern bullet is a -far-flying bird. It rakes the air with its hot spitting song at -distances which, as a usual thing, place the whole landscape in the -danger-zone. There was no direction from which they did not come. A -chart of their courses over one's head would have resembled a spider's -web. My friend Jimmie, the photographer, mounted to the firing line -with me and we gallivanted as much as we dared. The "sense of the -meeting" was curious. Most of the men seemed to have no idea of a grand -historic performance, but they were grimly satisfied with themselves. -"Well, begawd, we done it." Then they wanted to know about other parts -of the line. "How are things looking, old man? Everything all right?" -"Yes, everything is all right if you can hold this ridge." "Aw, hell," -said the men, "we'll hold the ridge. Don't you worry about that, son." - -It was Jimmie's first action, and, as we cautiously were making our way -to the right of our lines, the crash of the Spanish fire became -uproarious, and the air simply whistled. I heard a quavering voice near -my shoulder, and, turning, I beheld Jimmie--Jimmie--with a face -bloodless, white as paper. He looked at me with eyes opened extremely -wide. "Say," he said, "this is pretty hot, ain't it?" I was delighted. I -knew exactly what he meant. He wanted to have the situation defined. If -I had told him that this was the occasion of some mere idle desultory -firing and recommended that he wait until the real battle began, I -think he would have gone in a bee-line for the rear. But I told him the -truth. "Yes, Jimmie," I replied earnestly. "You can take it from me -that this is patent, double-extra-what-for." And immediately he nodded. -"All right." If this was a big action, then he was willing to pay in -his fright as a rational price for the privilege of being present. But -if this was only a penny affray, he considered the price exorbitant, -and he would go away. He accepted my assurance with simple faith, and -deported himself with kindly dignity as one moving amid great things. -His face was still as pale as paper, but that counted for nothing. The -main point was his perfect willingness to be frightened for reasons. I -wonder where is Jimmie? I lent him the Jamaica polo-pony one day and it -ran away with him and flung him off in the middle of a ford. He -appeared to me afterward and made bitter speech concerning this horse -which I had assured him was a gentle and pious animal. Then I never saw -Jimmie again. - -Then came the night of the first of July. A group of correspondents -limped back to El Poso. It had been a day so long that the morning -seemed as remote as a morning in the previous year. But I have -forgotten to tell you about Reuben McNab. Many years ago, I went to -school at a place called Claverack, in New York State, where there was -a semi-military institution. Contemporaneous with me, as a student, was -Reuben McNab, a long, lank boy, freckled, sandy-haired--an -extraordinary boy in no way, and yet, I wager, a boy clearly marked in -every recollection. Perhaps there is a good deal in that name. Reuben -McNab. You can't fling that name carelessly over your shoulder and lose -it. It follows you like the haunting memory of a sin. At any rate, -Reuben McNab was identified intimately in my thought with the sunny -irresponsible days at Claverack, when all the earth was a green field -and all the sky was a rainless blue. Then I looked down into a -miserable huddle at Bloody Bend, a huddle of hurt men, dying men, dead -men. And there I saw Reuben McNab, a corporal in the 71st New York -Volunteers, and with a hole through his lung. Also, several holes -through his clothing. "Well, they got me," he said in greeting. Usually -they said that. There were no long speeches. "Well, they got me." That -was sufficient. The duty of the upright, unhurt, man is then difficult. -I doubt if many of us learned how to speak to our own wounded. In the -first place, one had to play that the wound was nothing; oh, a mere -nothing; a casual interference with movement, perhaps, but nothing -more; oh, really nothing more. In the second place, one had to show a -comrade's appreciation of this sad plight. As a result I think most of -us bungled and stammered in the presence of our wounded friends. That's -curious, eh? "Well, they got me," said Reuben McNab. I had looked upon -five hundred wounded men with stolidity, or with a conscious -indifference which filled me with amazement. But the apparition of -Reuben McNab, the schoolmate, lying there in the mud, with a hole -through his lung, awed me into stutterings, set me trembling with a -sense of terrible intimacy with this war which theretofore I could have -believed was a dream--almost. Twenty shot men rolled their eyes and -looked at me. Only one man paid no heed. He was dying; he had no time. -The bullets hummed low over them all. Death, having already struck, -still insisted upon raising a venomous crest. "If you're goin' by the -hospital, step in and see me," said Reuben McNab. That was all. - -At the correspondents' camp, at El Poso, there was hot coffee. It was -very good. I have a vague sense of being very selfish over my blanket -and rubber coat. I have a vague sense of spasmodic firing during my -sleep; it rained, and then I awoke to hear that steady drumming of an -infantry fire--something which was never to cease, it seemed. They were -at it again. The trail from El Poso to the positions along San Juan -ridge had become an exciting thoroughfare. Shots from large-bore rifles -dropped in from almost every side. At this time the safest place was -the extreme front. I remember in particular the one outcry I heard. A -private in the 71st, without his rifle, had gone to a stream for some -water, and was returning, being but a little in rear of me. Suddenly I -heard this cry--"Oh, my God, come quick"--and I was conscious then to -having heard the hateful zip of a close shot. He lay on the ground, -wriggling. He was hit in the hip. Two men came quickly. Presently -everybody seemed to be getting knocked down. They went over like men of -wet felt, quietly, calmly, with no more complaint than so many -automatons. It was only that lad--"Oh, my God, come quick." Otherwise, -men seemed to consider that their hurts were not worthy of particular -attention. A number of people got killed very courteously, tacitly -absolving the rest of us from any care in the matter. A man fell; he -turned blue; his face took on an expression of deep sorrow; and then -his immediate friends worried about him, if he had friends. This was -July 1. I crave the permission to leap back again to that date. - -On the morning of July 2, I sat on San Juan hill and watched Lawton's -division come up. I was absolutely sheltered, but still where I could -look into the faces of men who were trotting up under fire. There -wasn't a high heroic face among them. They were all men intent on -business. That was all. It may seem to you that I am trying to make -everything a squalor. That would be wrong. I feel that things were -often sublime. But they were _differently_ sublime. They were not -of our shallow and preposterous fictions. They stood out in a simple, -majestic commonplace. It was the behaviour of men on the street. It was -the behaviour of men. In one way, each man was just pegging along at -the heels of the man before him, who was pegging along at the heels of -still another man, who was pegging along at the heels of still another -man who---- It was that in the flat and obvious way. In another way it -was pageantry, the pageantry of the accomplishment of naked duty. One -cannot speak of it--the spectacle of the common man serenely doing his -work, his appointed work. It is the one thing in the universe which -makes one fling expression to the winds and be satisfied to simply -feel. Thus they moved at San Juan--the soldiers of the United States -Regular Army. One pays them the tribute of the toast of silence. - -Lying near one of the enemy's trenches was a red-headed Spanish corpse. -I wonder how many hundreds were cognisant of this red-headed Spanish -corpse? It arose to the dignity of a landmark. There were many corpses -but only one with a red head. This red-head. He was always there. Each -time I approached that part of the field I prayed that I might find -that he had been buried. But he was always there--red-headed. His -strong simple countenance was a malignant sneer at the system which was -forever killing the credulous peasants in a sort of black night of -politics, where the peasants merely followed whatever somebody had told -them was lofty and good. But, nevertheless, the red-headed Spaniard was -dead. He was irrevocably dead. And to what purpose? The honour of -Spain? Surely the honour of Spain could have existed without the -violent death of this poor red-headed peasant? Ah well, he was buried -when the heavy firing ceased and men had time for such small things as -funerals. The trench was turned over on top of him. It was a fine, -honourable, soldierly fate--to be buried in a trench, the trench of the -fight and the death. Sleep well, red-headed peasant. You came to -another hemisphere to fight because--because you were told to, I -suppose. Well, there you are, buried in your trench on San Juan hill. -That is the end of it, your life has been taken--that is a flat, frank -fact. And foreigners buried you expeditiously while speaking a strange -tongue. Sleep well, red-headed mystery. - -On the day before the destruction of Cervera's fleet, I steamed past -our own squadron, doggedly lying in its usual semicircle, every nose -pointing at the mouth of the harbour. I went to Jamaica, and on the -placid evening of the next day I was again steaming past our own -squadron, doggedly lying in its usual semicircle, every nose pointing -at the mouth of the harbour. A megaphone-hail from the bridge of one of -the yacht-gunboats came casually over the water. "Hello! hear the -news?" "No; what was it?" "The Spanish fleet came out this morning." -"Oh, of course, it did." "Honest, I mean." "Yes, I know; well, where -are they now?" "Sunk." Was there ever such a preposterous statement? I -was humiliated that my friend, the lieutenant on the yacht-gunboat, -should have measured me as one likely to swallow this bad joke. - -But it was all true; every word. I glanced back at our squadron, lying -in its usual semicircle, every nose pointing at the mouth of the -harbour. It would have been absurd to think that anything had happened. -The squadron hadn't changed a button. There it sat without even a smile -on the face of the tiger. And it had eaten four armoured cruisers and -two torpedo-boat-destroyers while my back was turned for a moment. -Courteously, but clearly, we announced across the waters that until -despatch-boats came to be manned from the ranks of the celebrated -horse-marines, the lieutenant's statement would probably remain -unappreciated. He made a gesture, abandoning us to our scepticism. It -infuriates an honourable and serious man to be taken for a liar or a -joker at a time when he is supremely honourable and serious. However, -when we went ashore, we found Siboney ringing with the news. It was -true, then; that mishandled collection of sick ships had come out and -taken the deadly thrashing which was rightfully the due of--I don't -know--somebody in Spain--or perhaps nobody anywhere. One likes to -wallop incapacity, but one has mingled emotions over the incapacity -which is not so much personal as it is the development of centuries. -This kind of incapacity cannot be centralised. You cannot hit the head -which contains it all. This is the idea, I imagine, which moved the -officers and men of our fleet. Almost immediately they began to speak -of the Spanish Admiral as "poor old boy" with a lucid suggestion in -their tones that his fate appealed to them as being undue hard, undue -cruel. And yet the Spanish guns hit nothing. If a man shoots, he should -hit something occasionally, and men say that from the time the Spanish -ships broke clear of the harbour entrance until they were one by one -overpowered, they were each a band of flame. Well, one can only mumble -out that when a man shoots he should be required to hit something -occasionally. - -In truth, the greatest fact of the whole campaign on land and sea seems -to be the fact that the Spaniards could only hit by chance, by a fluke. -If he had been an able marksman, no man of our two unsupported -divisions would have set foot on San Juan hill on July 1. They should -have been blown to smithereens. The Spaniards had no immediate lack of -ammunition, for they fired enough to kill the population of four big -cities. I admit neither Velasquez nor Cervantes into this discussion, -although they have appeared by authority as reasons for something which -I do not clearly understand. Well, anyhow they couldn't hit anything. -Velasquez? Yes. Cervantes? Yes. But the Spanish troops seemed only to -try to make a very rapid fire. Thus we lost many men. We lost them -because of the simple fury of the fire; never because the fire was -well-directed, intelligent. But the Americans were called upon to be -whipped because of Cervantes and Velasquez. It was impossible. - -Out on the slopes of San Juan the dog-tents shone white. Some kind of -negotiations were going forward, and men sat on their trousers and -waited. It was all rather a blur of talks with officers, and a craving -for good food and good water. Once Leighton and I decided to ride over -to El Caney, into which town the civilian refugees from Santiago were -pouring. The road from the beleaguered city to the out-lying village -was a spectacle to make one moan. There were delicate gentle families -on foot, the silly French boots of the girls twisting and turning in a -sort of absolute paper futility; there were sons and grandsons carrying -the venerable patriarch in his own armchair; there were exhausted -mothers with babes who wailed; there were young dandies with their -toilettes in decay; there were puzzled, guideless women who didn't know -what had happened. The first sentence one heard was the murmurous "What -a damn shame." We saw a godless young trooper of the Second Cavalry -sharply halt a waggon. "Hold on a minute. You must carry this woman. -She's fainted twice already." The virtuous driver of the U.S. Army -waggon mildly answered: "But I'm full-up now." "You can make room for -her," said the private of the Second Cavalry. A young, young man with a -straight mouth. It was merely a plain bit of nothing--at--all but, -thank God, thank God, he seemed to have not the slightest sense of -excellence. He said: "If you've got any man in there who can walk at -all, you put him out and let this woman get in." "But," answered the -teamster, "I'm filled up with a lot of cripples and grandmothers." -Thereupon they discussed the point fairly, and ultimately the woman was -lifted into the waggon. - -The vivid thing was the fact that these people did not visibly suffer. -Somehow they were numb. There was not a tear. There was rarely a -countenance which was not wondrously casual. There was no sign of -fatalistic theory. It was simply that what was happening to-day had -happened yesterday, as near as one could judge. I could fancy that -these people had been thrown out of their homes every day. It was -utterly, utterly casual. And they accepted the ministrations of our men -in the same fashion. Everything was a matter of course. I had a filled -canteen. I was frightfully conscious of this fact because a filled -canteen was a pearl of price; it was a great thing. It was an enormous -accident which led one to offer praises that he was luckier than ten -thousand better men. - -As Leighton and I rode along, we came to a tree under which a refugee -family had halted. They were a man, his wife, two handsome daughters -and a pimply son. It was plain that they were superior people, because -the girls had dressed for the exodus and wore corsets which captivated -their forms with a steel-ribbed vehemence only proper for wear on a -sun-blistered road to a distant town. They asked us for water. Water -was the gold of the moment. Leighton was almost maudlin in his -generosity. I remember being angry with him. He lavished upon them his -whole canteen and he received in return not even a glance of--what? -Acknowledgment? No, they didn't even admit anything. Leighton wasn't a -human being; he was some sort of a mountain spring. They accepted him -on a basis of pure natural phenomena. His canteen was purely an -occurrence. In the meantime the pimple-faced approached me. He asked -for water and held out a pint cup. My response was immediate. I tilted -my canteen and poured into his cup almost a pint of my treasure. He -glanced into the cup and apparently he beheld there some innocent -sediment for which he alone or his people were responsible. In the -American camps the men were accustomed to a sediment. Well, he glanced -at my poor cupful and then negligently poured it out on the ground and -held up his cup for more. I gave him more; I gave him his cup full -again, but there was something within me which made me swear him out -completely. But he didn't understand a word. Afterward I watched if -they were capable of being moved to help on their less able fellows on -this miserable journey. Not they! Nor yet anybody else. Nobody cared -for anybody save my young friend of the Second Cavalry, who rode -seriously to and fro doing his best for people, who took him as a -result of a strange upheaval. - -The fight at El Caney had been furious. General Vera del Rey with -somewhat less than 1000 men--the Spanish accounts say 520--had there -made such a stand that only about 80 battered soldiers ever emerged -from it. The attack cost Lawton about 400 men. The magazine rifle! But -the town was now a vast parrot-cage of chattering refugees. If, on the -road, they were silent, stolid and serene, in the town they found their -tongues and set up such a cackle as one may seldom hear. Notably the -women; it is they who invariably confuse the definition of situations, -and one could wonder in amaze if this crowd of irresponsible, gabbling -hens had already forgotten that this town was the deathbed, so to -speak, of scores of gallant men whose blood was not yet dry; whose -hands, of the hue of pale amber, stuck from the soil of the hasty -burial. On the way to El Caney I had conjured a picture of the women of -Santiago, proud in their pain, their despair, dealing glances of -defiance, contempt, hatred at the invader; fiery ferocious ladies, so -true to their vanquished and to their dead that they spurned the very -existence of the low-bred churls who lacked both Velasquez and -Cervantes. And instead, there was this mere noise, which reminded one -alternately of a tea-party in Ireland, a village fête in the south of -France, and the vacuous morning screech of a swarm of sea-gulls. "Good. -There is Donna Maria. This will lower her high head. This will teach -her better manners to her neighbours. She wasn't too grand to send her -rascal of a servant to borrow a trifle of coffee of me in the morning, -and then when I met her on the calle--por Dios, she was too blind to -see me. But we are all equal here. No? Little Juan has a sore toe. Yes, -Donna Maria; many thanks, many thanks. Juan, do me the favour to be -quiet while Donna Maria is asking about your toe. Oh, Donna Maria, we -were always poor, always. But you. My heart bleeds when I see how hard -this is for you. The old cat! She gives me a head-shake." - -Pushing through the throng in the plaza we came in sight of the door of -the church, and here was a strange scene. The church had been turned -into a hospital for Spanish wounded who had fallen into American hands. -The interior of the church was too cave-like in its gloom for the eyes -of the operating surgeons, so they had had the altar table carried to -the doorway, where there was a bright light. Framed then in the black -archway was the altar table with the figure of a man upon it. He was -naked save for a breech-clout and so close, so clear was the -ecclesiastic suggestion, that one's mind leaped to a phantasy that this -thin, pale figure had just been torn down from a cross. The flash of -the impression was like light, and for this instant it illumined all -the dark recesses of one's remotest idea of sacrilege, ghastly and -wanton. I bring this to you merely as an effect, an effect of mental -light and shade, if you like; something done in thought similar to that -which the French impressionists do in colour; something meaningless and -at the same time overwhelming, crushing, monstrous. "Poor devil; I -wonder if he'll pull through," said Leighton. An American surgeon and -his assistants were intent over the prone figure. They wore white -aprons. Something small and silvery flashed in the surgeon's hand. An -assistant held the merciful sponge close to the man's nostrils, but he -was writhing and moaning in some horrible dream of this artificial -sleep. As the surgeon's instrument played, I fancied that the man -dreamed that he was being gored by a bull. In his pleading, delirious -babble occurred constantly the name of the Virgin, the Holy Mother. -"Good morning," said the surgeon. He changed his knife to his left hand -and gave me a wet palm. The tips of his fingers were wrinkled, -shrunken, like those of a boy who has been in swimming too long. Now, -in front of the door, there were three American sentries, and it was -their business to--to do what? To keep this Spanish crowd from swarming -over the operating table! It was perforce a public clinic. They would -not be denied. The weaker women and the children jostled according to -their might in the rear, while the stronger people, gaping in the front -rank, cried out impatiently when the pushing disturbed their long -stares. One burned with a sudden gift of public oratory. One wanted to -say: "Oh, go away, go away, go away. Leave the man decently alone with -his pain, you gogglers. This is not the national sport." - -But within the church there was an audience of another kind. This was -of the other wounded men awaiting their turn. They lay on their brown -blankets in rows along the stone floor. Their eyes, too, were fastened -upon the operating-table, but--that was different. Meek-eyed little -yellow men lying on the floor awaiting their turns. - -One afternoon I was seated with a correspondent friend, on the porch of -one of the houses at Siboney. A vast man on horseback came riding along -at a foot pace. When he perceived my friend, he pulled up sharply. -"Whoa! Where's that mule I lent you?" My friend arose and saluted. -"I've got him all right, General, thank you," said my friend. The vast -man shook his finger. "Don't you lose him now." "No, sir, I won't; -thank you, sir." The vast man rode away. "Who the devil is that?" said -I. My friend laughed. "That's General Shafter," said he. - -I gave five dollars for the Bos'n--small, black, spry imp of Jamaica -sin. When I first saw him he was the property of a fireman on the -_Criton_. The fireman had found him--a little wharf rat--in Port -Antonio. It was not the purchase of a slave; it was that the fireman -believed that he had spent about five dollars on a lot of comic -supplies for the Bos'n, including a little suit of sailor clothes. The -Bos'n was an adroit and fantastic black gamin. His eyes were like white -lights, and his teeth were a row of little piano keys; otherwise he was -black. He had both been a jockey and a cabin-boy, and he had the -manners of a gentleman. After he entered my service I don't think there -was ever an occasion upon which he was useful, save when he told me -quaint stories of Guatemala, in which country he seemed to have lived -some portion of his infantile existence. Usually he ran funny errands -like little foot-races, each about fifteen yards in length. At Siboney -he slept under my hammock like a poodle, and I always expected that, -through the breaking of a rope, I would some night descend and -obliterate him. His incompetence was spectacular. When I wanted him to -do a thing, the agony of supervision was worse than the agony of -personal performance. It would have been easier to have gotten my own -spurs or boots or blanket than to have the bother of this little -incapable's service. But the good aspect was the humorous view. He was -like a boy, a mouse, a scoundrel, and a devoted servitor. He was -immensely popular. His name of Bos'n became a Siboney stock-word. -Everybody knew it. It was a name like President McKinley, Admiral -Sampson, General Shafter. The Bos'n became a figure. One day he -approached me with four one-dollar notes in United States currency. He -besought me to preserve them for him, and I pompously tucked them away -in my riding breeches, with an air which meant that his funds were now -as safe as if they were in a national bank. Still, I asked with some -surprise, where he had reaped all this money. He frankly admitted at -once that it had been given to him by the enthusiastic soldiery as a -tribute to his charm of person and manner. This was not astonishing for -Siboney, where money was meaningless. Money was not worth -carrying--"packing." However, a soldier came to our house one morning, -and asked, "Got any more tobacco to sell?" As befitted men in virtuous -poverty, we replied with indignation. "What tobacco?" "Why, that -tobacco what the little nigger is sellin' round." - -I said, "Bos'n!" He said, "Yes, mawstah." Wounded men on bloody -stretchers were being carried into the hospital next door. "Bos'n, -you've been stealing my tobacco." His defence was as glorious as the -defence of that forlorn hope in romantic history, which drew itself up -and mutely died. He lied as desperately, as savagely, as hopelessly as -ever man fought. - -One day a delegation from the 33d Michigan came to me and said: "Are -you the proprietor of the Bos'n?" I said: "Yes." And they said: "Well, -would you please be so kind as to be so good as to give him to us?" A -big battle was expected for the next day. "Why," I answered, "if you -want him you can have him. But he's a thief, and I won't let him go -save on his personal announcement." The big battle occurred the next -day, and the Bos'n did not disappear in it; but he disappeared in my -interest in the battle, even as a waif might disappear in a fog. My -interest in the battle made the Bos'n dissolve before my eyes. Poor -little rascal! I gave him up with pain. He was such an innocent -villain. He knew no more of thievery than the whole of it. Anyhow one -was fond of him. He was a natural scoundrel. He was not an educated -scoundrel. One cannot bear the educated scoundrel. He was ingenuous, -simple, honest, abashed ruffianism. - -I hope the 33d Michigan did not arrive home naked. I hope the Bos'n did -not succeed in getting everything. If the Bos'n builds a palace in -Detroit, I shall know where he got the money. He got it from the 33d -Michigan. Poor little man. He was only eleven years old. He vanished. I -had thought to preserve him as a relic, even as one preserves forgotten -bayonets and fragments of shell. And now as to the pocket of my -riding-breeches. It contained four dollars in United States currency. -Bos'n! Hey, Bos'n, where are you? The morning was the morning of -battle. - -I was on San Juan Hill when Lieutenant Hobson and the men of the -_Merrimac_ were exchanged and brought into the American lines. Many of -us knew that the exchange was about to be made, and gathered to see the -famous party. Some of our Staff officers rode out with three Spanish -officers --prisoners--these latter being blindfolded before they were -taken through the American position. The army was majestically minding -its business in the long line of trenches when its eye caught sight of -this little procession. "What's that? What they goin' to do?" "They're -goin' to exchange Hobson." Wherefore every man who was foot-free staked -out a claim where he could get a good view of the liberated heroes, and -two bands prepared to collaborate on "The Star Spangled Banner." There -was a very long wait through the sunshiny afternoon. In our impatience, -we imagined them--the Americans and Spaniards--dickering away out there -under the big tree like so many peddlers. Once the massed bands, misled -by a rumour, stiffened themselves into that dramatic and breathless -moment when each man is ready to blow. But the rumour was exploded in -the nick of time. We made ill jokes, saying one to another that the -negotiations had found diplomacy to be a failure, and were playing -freeze-out poker for the whole batch of prisoners. - -But suddenly the moment came. Along the cut roadway, toward the crowded -soldiers, rode three men, and it could be seen that the central one -wore the undress uniform of an officer of the United States navy. -Most of the soldiers were sprawled out on the grass, bored and wearied -in the sunshine. However, they aroused at the old circus-parade, -torch-light procession cry, "Here they come." Then the men of the -regular army did a thing. They arose _en masse_ and came to -"Attention." Then the men of the regular army did another thing. They -slowly lifted every weather-beaten hat and drooped it until it touched -the knee. Then there was a magnificent silence, broken only by the -measured hoof-beats of the little company's horses as they rode through -the gap. It was solemn, funereal, this splendid silent welcome of a -brave man by men who stood on a hill which they had earned out of blood -and death--simply, honestly, with no sense of excellence, earned out of -blood and death. - -Then suddenly the whole scene went to rubbish. Before he reached the -bottom of the hill, Hobson was bowing to right and left like another -Boulanger, and, above the thunder of the massed bands, one could hear -the venerable outbreak, "Mr. Hobson, I'd like to shake the hand of the -man who----" But the real welcome was that welcome of silence. However, -one could thrill again when the tail of the procession appeared--an -army waggon containing the blue-jackets of the _Merrimac_ adventure. I -remember grinning heads stuck out from under the canvas cover of the -waggon. And the army spoke to the navy. "Well, Jackie, how does it -feel?" And the navy up and answered: "Great! Much obliged to you -fellers for comin' here." "Say, Jackie, what did they arrest ye for -anyhow? Stealin' a dawg?" The navy still grinned. Here was no rubbish. -Here was the mere exchange of language between men. - -Some of us fell in behind this small but royal procession and followed -it to General Shafter's headquarters, some miles on the road to -Siboney. I have a vague impression that I watched the meeting between -Shafter and Hobson, but the impression ends there. However, I remember -hearing a talk between them as to Hobson's men, and then the -blue-jackets were called up to hear the congratulatory remarks of the -general in command of the Fifth Army Corps. It was a scene in the fine -shade of thickly-leaved trees. The general sat in his chair, his belly -sticking ridiculously out before him as if he had adopted some form of -artificial inflation. He looked like a joss. If the seamen had suddenly -begun to burn a few sticks, most of the spectators would have exhibited -no surprise. But the words he spoke were proper, clear, quiet, -soldierly, the words of one man to others. The Jackies were comic. At -the bidding of their officer they aligned themselves before the -general, grinned with embarrassment one to the other, made funny -attempts to correct the alignment, and--looked sheepish. They looked -sheepish. They looked like bad little boys flagrantly caught. They had -no sense of excellence. Here was no rubbish. - -Very soon after this the end of the campaign came for me. I caught a -fever. I am not sure to this day what kind of a fever it was. It was -defined variously. I know, at any rate, that I first developed a -languorous indifference to everything in the world. Then I developed a -tendency to ride a horse even as a man lies on a cot. Then I--I am not -sure--I think I grovelled and groaned about Siboney for several days. -My colleagues, Scovel and George Rhea, found me and gave me of their -best, but I didn't know whether London Bridge was falling down or -whether there was a war with Spain. It was all the same. What of it? -Nothing of it. Everything had happened, perhaps. But I cared not a jot. -Life, death, dishonour--all were nothing to me. All I cared for was -pickles. _Pickles_ at any price! _Pickles!!_ - -If I had been the father of a hundred suffering daughters, I should -have waved them all aside and remarked that they could be damned for -all I cared. It was not a mood. One can defeat a mood. It was a -physical situation. Sometimes one cannot defeat a physical situation. I -heard the talk of Siboney and sometimes I answered, but I was as -indifferent as the star-fish flung to die on the sands. The only fact -in the universe was that my veins burned and boiled. Rhea finally -staggered me down to the army-surgeon who had charge of the -proceedings, and the army-surgeon looked me over with a keen healthy -eye. Then he gave a permit that I should be sent home. The manipulation -from the shore to the transport was something which was Rhea's affair. -I am not sure whether we went in a boat or a balloon. I think it was a -boat. Rhea pushed me on board and I swayed meekly and unsteadily toward -the captain of the ship, a corpulent, well-conditioned, impickled -person pacing noisily on the spar-deck. "Ahem, yes; well; all right. -Have you got your own food? I hope, for Christ's sake, you don't expect -us to feed you, do you?" Whereupon I went to the rail and weakly yelled -at Rhea, but he was already afar. The captain was, meantime, remarking -in bellows that, for Christ's sake, I couldn't expect him to feed me. I -didn't expect to be fed. I didn't care to be fed. I wished for nothing -on earth but some form of painless pause, oblivion. The insults of this -old pie-stuffed scoundrel did not affect me then; they affect me now. I -would like to tell him that, although I like collies, fox-terriers, and -even screw-curled poodles, I do not like him. He was free to call me -superfluous and throw me overboard, but he was not free to coarsely -speak to a somewhat sick man. I--in fact I hate him--it is all wrong--I -lose whatever ethics I possessed--but--I hate him, and I demand that -you should imagine a milch cow endowed with a knowledge of navigation -and in command of a ship--and perfectly capable of commanding a -ship--oh, well, never mind. - -I was crawling along the deck when somebody pounced violently upon me -and thundered: "Who in hell are you, sir?" I said I was a -correspondent. He asked me did I know that I had yellow fever. I said -No. He yelled, "Well, by Gawd, you isolate yourself, sir." I said; -"Where?" At this question he almost frothed at the mouth. I thought he -was going to strike me. "Where?" he roared. "How in hell do I know, -sir? I know as much about this ship as you do, sir. But you isolate -yourself, sir." My clouded brain tried to comprehend these orders. This -man was a doctor in the regular army, and it was necessary to obey him, -so I bestirred myself to learn what he meant by these gorilla outcries. -"All right, doctor; I'll isolate myself, but I wish you'd tell me where -to go." And then he passed into such volcanic humour that I clung to -the rail and gasped. "Isolate yourself, sir. Isolate yourself. That's -all I've got to say, sir. I don't give a God damn where you go, but -when you get there, stay there, sir." So I wandered away and ended up -on the deck aft, with my head against the flagstaff and my limp body -stretched on a little rug. I was not at all sorry for myself. I didn't -care a tent-peg. And yet, as I look back upon it now, the situation was -fairly exciting--a voyage of four or five days before me--no food--no -friends--above all else, no friends--isolated on deck, and rather ill. - -When I returned to the United States, I was able to move my feminine -friends to tears by an account of this voyage, but, after all, it -wasn't so bad. They kept me on my small reservation aft, but plenty of -kindness loomed soon enough. At mess-time, they slid me a tin plate of -something, usually stewed tomatoes and bread. Men are always good men. -And, at any rate, most of the people were in worse condition than -I--poor bandaged chaps looking sadly down at the waves. In a way, I -knew the kind. First lieutenants at forty years of age, captains at -fifty, majors at 102, lieutenant-colonels at 620, full colonels at -1000, and brigadiers at 9,768,295 plus. A man had to live two billion -years to gain eminent rank in the regular army at that time. And, of -course, they all had trembling wives at remote western posts waiting to -hear the worst, the best, or the middle. - -In rough weather, the officers made a sort of a common pool of all the -sound legs and arms, and by dint of hanging hard to each other they -managed to move from their deck chairs to their cabins and from their -cabins again to their deck chairs. Thus they lived until the ship -reached Hampton Roads. We slowed down opposite the curiously mingled -hotels and batteries at Old Point Comfort, and at our mast-head we flew -the yellow-flag, the grim ensign of the plague. Then we witnessed -something which informed us that with all this ship-load of wounds and -fevers and starvations we had forgotten the fourth element of war. We -were flying the yellow flag, but a launch came and circled swiftly -about us. There was a little woman in the launch, and she kept looking -and looking and looking. Our ship was so high that she could see only -those who rung at the rail, but she kept looking and looking and -looking. It was plain enough--it was all plain enough--but my heart -sank with the fear that she was not going to find him. But presently -there was a commotion among some black dough-boys of the 24th Infantry, -and two of them ran aft to Colonel Liscum, its gallant commander. Their -faces were wreathed in darkey grins of delight. "Kunnel, ain't dat Mis' -Liscum, Kunnel?" "What?" said the old man. He got up quickly and -appeared at the rail, his arm in a sling. He cried, "Alice!" The little -woman saw him, and instantly she covered up her face with her hands as -if blinded with a flash of white fire. She made no outcry; it was all -in this simply swift gesture, but we--we knew them. It told us. It told -us the other part. And in a vision we all saw our own harbour-lights. -That is to say those of us who had harbour-lights. - -I was almost well, and had defeated the yellow-fever charge which had -been brought against me, and so I was allowed ashore among the first. -And now happened a strange thing. A hard campaign, full of wants and -lacks and absences, brings a man speedily back to an appreciation of -things long disregarded or forgotten. In camp, somewhere in the woods -between Siboney and Santiago, I happened to think of ice-cream-soda. I -had done very well without it for many years; in fact I think I loathe -it; but I got to dreaming of ice-cream-soda, and I came near dying of -longing for it. I couldn't get it out of my mind, try as I would to -concentrate my thoughts upon the land crabs and mud with which I was -surrounded. It certainly had been an institution of my childhood, but -to have a ravenous longing for it in the year 1898 was about as -illogical as to have a ravenous longing for kerosene. All I could do -was to swear to myself that if I reached the United States again, I -would immediately go to the nearest soda-water fountain and make it -look like Spanish Fours. In a loud, firm voice, I would say, "Orange, -please." And here is the strange thing: as soon as I was ashore I went -to the nearest soda-water fountain, and in a loud, firm voice I said, -"Orange, please." I remember one man who went mad that way over tinned -peaches, and who wandered over the face of the earth saying -plaintively, "Have you any peaches?" - -Most of the wounded and sick had to be tabulated and marshalled in -sections and thoroughly officialised, so that I was in time to take a -position on the verandah of Chamberlain's Hotel and see my late -shipmates taken to the hospital. The verandah was crowded with women in -light, charming summer dresses, and with spruce officers from the -Fortress. It was like a bank of flowers. It filled me with awe. All -this luxury and refinement and gentle care and fragrance and colour -seemed absolutely new. Then across the narrow street on the verandah of -the hotel there was a similar bank of flowers. Two companies of -volunteers dug a lane through the great crowd in the street and kept -the way, and then through this lane there passed a curious procession. -I had never known that they looked like that. Such a gang of dirty, -ragged, emaciated, half-starved, bandaged cripples I had never seen. -Naturally there were many men who couldn't walk, and some of these were -loaded upon a big flat car which was in tow of a trolley-car. Then -there were many stretchers, slow-moving. When that crowd began to pass -the hotel the banks of flowers made a noise which could make one -tremble. Perhaps it was a moan, perhaps it was a sob--but no, it was -something beyond either a moan or a sob. Anyhow, the sound of women -weeping was in it.--The sound of women weeping. - -And how did these men of famous deeds appear when received thus by the -people? Did they smirk and look as if they were bursting with the -desire to tell everything which had happened? No they hung their heads -like so many jail-birds. Most of them seemed to be suffering from -something which was like stage-fright during the ordeal of this chance -but supremely eloquent reception. No sense of excellence--that was it. -Evidently they were willing to leave the clacking to all those natural -born major-generals who after the war talked enough to make a great -fall in the price of that commodity all over the world. - -The episode was closed. And you can depend upon it that I have told you -nothing at all, nothing at all, nothing at all. - - - - -THE SECOND GENERATION - - -I - -Caspar Cadogan resolved to go to the tropic wars and do something. The -air was blue and gold with the pomp of soldiering, and in every ear -rang the music of military glory. Caspar's father was a United States -Senator from the great State of Skowmulligan, where the war fever ran -very high. Chill is the blood of many of the sons of millionaires, but -Caspar took the fever and posted to Washington. His father had never -denied him anything, and this time all that Caspar wanted was a little -Captaincy in the Army--just a simple little Captaincy. - -The old man had been entertaining a delegation of respectable -bunco-steerers from Skowmulligan who had come to him on a matter which -is none of the public's business. - -Bottles of whisky and boxes of cigars were still on the table in the -sumptuous private parlour. The Senator had said, "Well, gentlemen, I'll -do what I can for you." By this sentence he meant whatever he meant. - -Then he turned to his eager son. "Well, Caspar?" The youth poured out -his modest desires. It was not altogether his fault. Life had taught -him a generous faith in his own abilities. If any one had told him that -he was simply an ordinary d--d fool he would have opened his eyes wide -at the person's lack of judgment. All his life people had admired him. - -The Skowmulligan war-horse looked with quick disapproval into the eyes -of his son. "Well, Caspar," he said slowly, "I am of the opinion that -they've got all the golf experts and tennis champions and cotillion -leaders and piano tuners and billiard markers that they really need as -officers. Now, if you were a soldier----" - -"I know," said the young man with a gesture, "but I'm not exactly a -fool, I hope, and I think if I get a chance I can do something. I'd -like to try. I would, indeed." - -The Senator lit a cigar. He assumed an attitude of ponderous -reflection. "Y--yes, but this country is full of young men who are not -fools. Full of 'em." - -Caspar fidgeted in the desire to answer that while he admitted the -profusion of young men who were not fools, he felt that he himself -possessed interesting and peculiar qualifications which would allow him -to make his mark in any field of effort which he seriously challenged. -But he did not make this graceful statement, for he sometimes detected -something ironic in his father's temperament. The Skowmulligan -war-horse had not thought of expressing an opinion of his own ability -since the year 1865, when he was young, like Caspar. - -"Well, well," said the Senator finally. "I'll see about it. I'll see -about it." The young man was obliged to await the end of his father's -characteristic method of thought. The war-horse never gave a quick -answer, and if people tried to hurry him they seemed able to arouse -only a feeling of irritation against making a decision at all. His mind -moved like the wind, but practice had placed a Mexican bit in the mouth -of his judgment. This old man of light quick thought had taught himself -to move like an ox cart. Caspar said, "Yes, sir." He withdrew to his -club, where, to the affectionate inquiries of some envious friends, he -replied, "The old man is letting the idea soak." - -The mind of the war-horse was decided far sooner than Caspar expected. -In Washington a large number of well-bred handsome young men were -receiving appointments as Lieutenants, as Captains, and occasionally as -Majors. They were a strong, healthy, clean-eyed educated collection. -They were a prime lot. A German Field-Marshal would have beamed with -joy if he could have had them--to send to school. Anywhere in the world -they would have made a grand show as material, but, intrinsically they -were not Lieutenants, Captains and Majors. They were fine men, though -manhood is only an essential part of a Lieutenant, a Captain or a -Major. But at any rate, this arrangement had all the logic of going to -sea in a bathing-machine. - -The Senator found himself reasoning that Caspar was as good as any of -them, and better than many. Presently he was bleating here and there -that his boy should have a chance. "The boy's all right, I tell you, -Henry. He's wild to go, and I don't see why they shouldn't give him a -show. He's got plenty of nerve, and he's keen as a whiplash. I'm going -to get him an appointment, and if you can do anything to help it along -I wish you would." - -Then he betook himself to the White House and the War Department and -made a stir. People think that Administrations are always slavishly, -abominably anxious to please the Machine. They are not; they wish the -Machine sunk in red fire, for by the power of ten thousand past words, -looks, gestures, writings, the Machine comes along and takes the -Administration by the nose and twists it, and the Administration dare -not even yell. The huge force which carries an election to success -looks reproachfully at the Administration and says, "Give me a bun." -That is a very small thing with which to reward a Colossus. - -The Skowmulligan war-horse got his bun and took it to his hotel where -Caspar was moodily reading war rumours. "Well, my boy, here you are." -Caspar was a Captain and Commissary on the staff of Brigadier-General -Reilly, commander of the Second Brigade of the First Division of the -Thirtieth Army Corps. - -"I had to work for it," said the Senator grimly. "They talked to me as -if they thought you were some sort of empty-headed idiot. None of 'em -seemed to know you personally. They just sort of took it for granted. -Finally I got pretty hot in the collar." He paused a moment; his heavy, -grooved face set hard; his blue eyes shone. He clapped a hand down upon -the handle of his chair. - -"Caspar, I've got you into this thing, and I believe you'll do all -right, and I'm not saying this because I distrust either your sense or -your grit. But I want you to understand you've _got to make a go of -it_. I'm not going to talk any twaddle about your country and your -country's flag. You understand all about that. But now you're a -soldier, and there'll be this to do and that to do, and fighting to do, -and you've got to do _every d----d one of 'em_ right up to the handle. -I don't know how much of a shindy this thing is going to be, but any -shindy is enough to show how much there is in a man. You've got your -appointment, and that's all I can do for you; but I'll thrash you with -my own hands if, when the Army gets back, the other fellows say my son -is 'nothing but a good-looking dude.'" - -He ceased, breathing heavily. Caspar looked bravely and frankly at his -father, and answered in a voice which was not very tremulous. "I'll do -my best. This is my chance. I'll do my best with it." - -The Senator had a marvellous ability of transition from one manner to -another. Suddenly he seemed very kind. "Well, that's all right, then. I -guess you'll get along all right with Reilly. I know him well, and -he'll see you through. I helped him along once. And now about this -commissary business. As I understand it, a Commissary is a sort of -caterer in a big way--that is, he looks out for a good many more things -than a caterer has to bother his head about. Reilly's brigade has -probably from two to three thousand men in it, and in regard to certain -things you've got to look out for every man of 'em every day. I know -perfectly well you couldn't successfully run a boarding-house in Ocean -Grove. How are you going to manage for all these soldiers, hey? Thought -about it?" - -"No," said Caspar, injured. "I didn't want to be a Commissary. I wanted -to be a Captain in the line." - -"They wouldn't hear of it. They said you would have to take a staff -appointment where people could look after you." - -"Well, let them look after me," cried Caspar resentfully; "but when -there's any fighting to be done I guess I won't necessarily be the last -man." - -"That's it," responded the Senator. "That's the spirit." They both -thought that the problem of war would eliminate to an equation of -actual battle. - -Ultimately Caspar departed into the South to an encampment in salty -grass under pine trees. Here lay an Army corps twenty thousand strong. -Caspar passed into the dusty sunshine of it, and for many weeks he was -lost to view. - - -II - -"Of course I don't know a blamed thing about it," said Caspar frankly -and modestly to a circle of his fellow staff officers. He was referring -to the duties of his office. - -Their faces became expressionless; they looked at him with eyes in -which he could fathom nothing. After a pause one politely said, "Don't -you?" It was the inevitable two words of convention. - -"Why," cried Caspar, "I didn't know what a commissary officer was until -I _was_ one. My old Guv'nor told me. He'd looked it up in a book -somewhere, I suppose; but _I_ didn't know." - -"Didn't you?" - -The young man's face glowed with sudden humour. "Do you know, the word -was intimately associated in my mind with camels. Funny, eh? I think it -came from reading that rhyme of Kipling's about the commissariat -camel." - -"Did it?" - -"Yes. Funny, isn't it? Camels!" - -The brigade was ultimately landed at Siboney as part of an army to -attack Santiago. The scene at the landing sometimes resembled the -inspiriting daily drama at the approach to the Brooklyn Bridge. There -was a great bustle, during which the wise man kept his property gripped -in his hands lest it might march off into the wilderness in the pocket -of one of the striding regiments. Truthfully, Caspar should have had -frantic occupation, but men saw him wandering bootlessly here and there -crying, "Has any one seen my saddlebags? Why, if I lose them I'm -ruined. I've got everything packed away in 'em. Everything!" - -They looked at him gloomily and without attention. "No," they said. It -was to intimate that they would not give a rip if he had lost his nose, -his teeth and his self-respect. Reilly's brigade collected itself from -the boats and went off, each regiment's soul burning with anger because -some other regiment was in advance of it. Moving along through the -scrub and under the palms, men talked mostly of things that did not -pertain to the business in hand. - -General Reilly finally planted his headquarters in some tall grass -under a mango tree. "Where's Cadogan?" he said suddenly as he took off -his hat and smoothed the wet grey hair from his brow. Nobody knew. "I -saw him looking for his saddle-bags down at the landing," said an -officer dubiously. "Bother him," said the General contemptuously. "Let -him stay there." - -Three venerable regimental commanders came, saluted stiffly and sat in -the grass. There was a pow-wow, during which Reilly explained much that -the Division Commander had told him. The venerable Colonels nodded; -they understood. Everything was smooth and clear to their minds. But -still, the Colonel of the Forty-fourth Regular Infantry murmured about -the commissariat. His men--and then he launched forth in a sentiment -concerning the privations of his men in which you were confronted with -his feeling that his men--his men were the only creatures of importance -in the universe, which feeling was entirely correct for him. Reilly -grunted. He did what most commanders did. He set the competent line to -doing the work of the incompetent part of the staff. - -In time Caspar came trudging along the road merrily swinging his -saddle-bags. "Well, General," he cried as he saluted, "I found 'em." - -"Did you?" said Reilly. Later an officer rushed to him tragically: -"General, Cadogan is off there in the bushes eatin' potted ham and -crackers all by himself." The officer was sent back into the bushes for -Caspar, and the General sent Caspar with an order. Then Reilly and the -three venerable Colonels, grinning, partook of potted ham and crackers. -"Tashe a' right," said Reilly, with his mouth full. "Dorsey, see if 'e -got some'n else." - -"Mush be selfish young pig," said one of the Colonels, with his mouth -full. "Who's he, General?" - -"Son--Sen'tor Cad'gan--ol' frien' mine--dash 'im." - -Caspar wrote a letter: - - "_Dear Father_: I am sitting under a tree using the flattest part - of my canteen for a desk. Even as I write the division ahead of us - is moving forward and we don't know what moment the storm of battle - may break out. I don't know what the plans are. General Reilly - knows, but he is so good as to give me very little of his - confidence. In fact, I might be part of a forlorn hope from all to - the contrary I've heard from him. I understood you to say in - Washington that you at one time had been of some service to him, - but if that is true I can assure you he has completely forgotten - it. At times his manner to me is little short of being offensive, - but of course I understand that it is only the way of a crusty old - soldier who has been made boorish and bearish by a long life among - the Indians. I dare say I shall manage it all right without a row. - - "When you hear that we have captured Santiago, please send me by - first steamer a box of provisions and clothing, particularly - sardines, pickles, and light-weight underwear. The other men on the - staff are nice quiet chaps, but they seem a bit crude. There has - been no fighting yet save the skirmish by Young's brigade. Reilly - was furious because we couldn't get in it. I met General Peel - yesterday. He was very nice. He said he knew you well when he was - in Congress. Young Jack May is on Peel's staff. I knew him well in - college. We spent an hour talking over old times. Give my love to - all at home." - -The march was leisurely. Reilly and his staff strolled out to the head -of the long, sinuous column and entered the sultry gloom of the forest. -Some less fortunate regiments had to wait among the trees at the side -of the trail, and as Reilly's brigade passed them, officer called to -officer, classmate to classmate, and in these greetings rang a note of -everything, from West Point to Alaska. They were going into an action -in which they, the officers, would lose over a hundred in killed and -wounded--officers alone--and these greetings, in which many nicknames -occurred, were in many cases farewells such as one pictures being given -with ostentation, solemnity, fervour. "There goes Gory Widgeon! Hello, -Gory! Where you starting for? Hey, Gory!" - -Caspar communed with himself and decided that he was not frightened. He -was eager and alert; he thought that now his obligation to his country, -or himself, was to be faced, and he was mad to prove to old Reilly and -the others that after all he was a very capable soldier. - - -III - -Old Reilly was stumping along the line of his brigade and mumbling like -a man with a mouthful of grass. The fire from the enemy's position was -incredible in its swift fury, and Reilly's brigade was getting its -share of a very bad ordeal. The old man's face was of the colour of a -tomato, and in his rage he mouthed and sputtered strangely. As he -pranced along his thin line, scornfully erect, voices arose from the -grass beseeching him to take care of himself. At his heels scrambled a -bugler with pallid skin and clenched teeth, a chalky, trembling youth, -who kept his eye on old Reilly's back and followed it. - -The old gentleman was quite mad. Apparently he thought the whole thing -a dreadful mess, but now that his brigade was irrevocably in it he was -full-tilting here and everywhere to establish some irreproachable, -immaculate kind of behaviour on the part of every man jack in his -brigade. The intentions of the three venerable Colonels were the same. -They stood behind their lines, quiet, stern, courteous old fellows, -admonishing their regiments to be very pretty in the face of such a -hail of magazine-rifle and machine-gun fire as has never in this world -been confronted save by beardless savages when the white man has found -occasion to take his burden to some new place. - -And the regiments were pretty. The men lay on their little stomachs and -got peppered according to the law and said nothing, as the good blood -pumped out into the grass, and even if a solitary rookie tried to get a -decent reason to move to some haven of rational men, the cold voice of -an officer made him look criminal with a shame that was a credit to his -regimental education. Behind Reilly's command was a bullet-torn jungle -through which it could not move as a brigade; ahead of it were Spanish -trenches on hills. Reilly considered that he was in a fix no doubt, but -he said this only to himself. Suddenly he saw on the right a little -point of blue-shirted men already half-way up the hill. It was some -pathetic fragment of the Sixth United States Infantry. Chagrined, -shocked, horrified, Reilly bellowed to his bugler, and the -chalked-faced youth unlocked his teeth and sounded the charge by -rushes. - -The men formed hastily and grimly, and rushed. Apparently there awaited -them only the fate of respectable soldiers. But they went because--of -the opinions of others, perhaps. They went because--no loud-mouthed lot -of jail-birds such as the Twenty-Seventh Infantry could do anything -that they could not do better. They went because Reilly ordered it. -They went because they went. - -And yet not a man of them to this day has made a public speech -explaining precisely how he did the whole thing and detailing with what -initiative and ability he comprehended and defeated a situation which -he did not comprehend at all. - -Reilly never saw the top of the hill. He was heroically striving to -keep up with his men when a bullet ripped quietly through his left -lung, and he fell back into the arms of the bugler, who received him as -he would have received a Christmas present. The three venerable -Colonels inherited the brigade in swift succession. The senior -commanded for about fifty seconds, at the end of which he was mortally -shot. Before they could get the news to the next in rank he, too, was -shot. The junior Colonel ultimately arrived with a lean and puffing -little brigade at the top of the hill. The men lay down and fired -volleys at whatever was practicable. - -In and out of the ditch-like trenches lay the Spanish dead, lemon-faced -corpses dressed in shabby blue and white ticking. Some were huddled -down comfortably like sleeping children; one had died in the attitude -of a man flung back in a dentist's chair; one sat in the trench with -his chin sunk despondently to his breast; few preserved a record of the -agitation of battle. With the greater number it was as if death had -touched them so gently, so lightly, that they had not known of it. -Death had come to them rather in the form of an opiate than of a bloody -blow. - -But the arrived men in the blue shirts had no thought of the sallow -corpses. They were eagerly exchanging a hail of shots with the Spanish -second line, whose ash-coloured entrenchments barred the way to a city -white amid trees. In the pauses the men talked. - -"We done the best. Old E Company got there. Why, one time the hull of B -Company was _behind_ us." - -"Jones, he was the first man up. I saw 'im." - -"Which Jones?" - -"Did you see ol' Two-bars runnin' like a land-crab? Made good time, -too. He hit only in the high places. He's all right." - -"The Lootenant s all right, too. He was a good ten yards ahead of the -best of us. I hated him at the post, but for this here active service -there's none of 'em can touch him." - -"This is mighty different from being at the post." - -"Well, we done it, an' it wasn't b'cause _I_ thought it could be done. -When we started, I ses to m'self: 'Well, here goes a lot o' d----d -fools.'" - -"'Tain't over yet." - -"Oh, they'll never git us back from here. If they start to chase us -back from here we'll pile 'em up so high the last ones can't climb -over. We've come this far, an' we'll stay here. I ain't done pantin'." - -"Anything is better than packin' through that jungle an' gettin' -blistered from front, rear, an' both flanks. I'd rather tackle another -hill than go trailin' in them woods, so thick you can't tell whether -you are one man or a division of cav'lry." - -"Where's that young kitchen-soldier, Cadogan, or whatever his name is. -Ain't seen him to-day." - -"Well, _I_ seen him. He was right in with it. He got shot, too, about -half up the hill, in the leg. I seen it. He's all right. Don't worry -about him. He's all right." - -"I seen 'im, too. He done his stunt. As soon as I can git this piece of -barbed-wire entanglement out o' me throat I'll give 'm a cheer." - -"He ain't shot at all b'cause there he stands, there. See 'im?" - -Rearward, the grassy slope was populous with little groups of men -searching for the wounded. Reilly's brigade began to dig with its -bayonets and shovel with its meat-ration cans. - - -IV - -Senator Cadogan paced to and fro in his private parlour and smoked -small, brown weak cigars. These little wisps seemed utterly inadequate -to console such a ponderous satrap. - -It was the evening of the 1st of July, 1898, and the Senator was -immensely excited, as could be seen from the superlatively calm way in -which he called out to his private secretary, who was in an adjoining -room. The voice was serene, gentle, affectionate, low. - -"Baker, I wish you'd go over again to the War Department and see if -they've heard anything about Caspar." - -A very bright-eyed, hatchet-faced young man appeared in a doorway, pen -still in hand. He was hiding a nettle-like irritation behind all the -finished audacity of a smirk, sharp, lying, trustworthy young -politician. "I've just got back from there, sir," he suggested. - -The Skowmulligan war-horse lifted his eyes and looked for a short -second into the eyes of his private secretary. It was not a glare or an -eagle glance; it was something beyond the practice of an actor; it was -simply meaning. The clever private secretary grabbed his hat and was at -once enthusiastically away. "All right, sir," he cried. "I'll find -out." - -The War Department was ablaze with light, and messengers were running. -With the assurance of a retainer of an old house Baker made his way -through much small-calibre vociferation. There was rumour of a big -victory; there was rumour of a big defeat. In the corridors various -watchdogs arose from their armchairs and asked him of his business in -tones of uncertainty which in no wise compared with their previous -habitual deference to the private secretary of the war-horse of -Skowmulligan. - -Ultimately Baker arrived in a room where some kind of head clerk sat -writing feverishly at a roll-top desk. Baker asked a question, and the -head clerk mumbled profanely without lifting his head. Apparently he -said: "How in the blankety-blank blazes do I know?" - -The private secretary let his jaw fall. Surely some new spirit had come -suddenly upon the heart of Washington--a spirit which Baker understood -to be almost defiantly indifferent to the wishes of Senator Cadogan, a -spirit which was not courteously oily. What could it mean? Baker's -fox-like mind sprang wildly to a conception of overturned factions, -changed friends, new combinations. The assurance which had come from -experience of a broad political situation suddenly left him, and he -would not have been amazed if some one had told him that Senator -Cadogan now controlled only six votes in the State of Skowmulligan. -"Well," he stammered in his bewilderment, "well--there isn't any news -of the old man's son, hey?" Again the head clerk replied blasphemously. - -Eventually Baker retreated in disorder from the presence of this head -clerk, having learned that the latter did not give a ---- if Caspar -Cadogan were sailing through Hades on an ice yacht. - -Baker stormed other and more formidable officials. In fact, he struck -as high as he dared. They one and all flung him short, hard words, even -as men pelt an annoying cur with pebbles. He emerged from the brilliant -light, from the groups of men with anxious, puzzled faces, and as he -walked back to the hotel he did not know if his name were Baker or -Cholmondeley. - -However, as he walked up the stairs to the Senator's rooms he contrived -to concentrate his intellect upon a manner of speaking. - -The war-horse was still pacing his parlour and smoking. He paused at -Baker's entrance. "Well?" - -"Mr. Cadogan," said the private secretary coolly, "they told me at the -Department that they did not give a cuss whether your son was alive or -dead." - -The Senator looked at Baker and smiled gently. "What's that, my boy?" -he asked in a soft and considerate voice. - -"They said----" gulped Baker, with a certain tenacity. "They said that -they didn't give a cuss whether your son was alive or dead." - -There was a silence for the space of three seconds. Baker stood like an -image; he had no machinery for balancing the issues of this kind of a -situation, and he seemed to feel that if he stood as still as a stone -frog he would escape the ravages of a terrible Senatorial wrath which -was about to break forth in a hurricane speech which would snap off -trees and sweep away barns. - -"Well," drawled the Senator lazily, "who did you see, Baker?" - -The private secretary resumed a certain usual manner of breathing. He -told the names of the men whom he had seen. - -"Ye--e--es," remarked the Senator. He took another little brown cigar -and held it with a thumb and first finger, staring at it with the calm -and steady scrutiny of a scientist investigating a new thing. "So they -don't care whether Caspar is alive or dead, eh? Well ... maybe they -don't.... That's all right.... However ... I think I'll just look in on -'em and state my views." - -When the Senator had gone, the private secretary ran to the window and -leaned afar out. Pennsylvania Avenue was gleaming silver blue in the -light of many arc-lamps; the cable trains groaned along to the clangour -of gongs; from the window, the walks presented a hardly diversified -aspect of shirt-waists and straw hats. Sometimes a newsboy screeched. - -Baker watched the tall, heavy figure of the Senator moving out to -intercept a cable train. "Great Scott!" cried the private secretary to -himself, "there'll be three distinct kinds of grand, plain practical -fireworks. The old man is going for 'em. I wouldn't be in Lascum's -boots. Ye gods, what a row there'll be." - -In due time the Senator was closeted with some kind of deputy -third-assistant battery-horse in the offices of the War Department. The -official obviously had been told off to make a supreme effort to pacify -Cadogan, and he certainly was acting according to his instructions. He -was almost in tears; he spread out his hands in supplication, and his -voice whined and wheedled. - -"Why, really, you know, Senator, we can only beg you to look at the -circumstances. Two scant divisions at the top of that hill; over a -thousand men killed and wounded; the line so thin that any strong -attack would smash our Army to flinders. The Spaniards have probably -received reenforcements under Pando; Shafter seems to be too ill to be -actively in command of our troops; Lawton can't get up with his -division before to-morrow. We are actually expecting ... no, I won't -say expecting ... but we would not be surprised ... nobody in the -department would be surprised if before daybreak we were compelled to -give to the country the news of a disaster which would be the worst -blow the National pride has ever suffered. Don't you see? Can't you see -our position, Senator?" - -The Senator, with a pale but composed face, contemplated the official -with eyes that gleamed in a way not usual with the big, self-controlled -politician. - -"I'll tell you frankly, sir," continued the other. "I'll tell you -frankly, that at this moment we don't know whether we are a-foot or -a-horseback. Everything is in the air. We don't know whether we have -won a glorious victory or simply got ourselves in a deuce of a fix." - -The Senator coughed. "I suppose my boy is with the two divisions at the -top of that hill? He's with Reilly." - -"Yes; Reilly's brigade is up there." - -"And when do you suppose the War Department can tell me if he is all -right. I want to know." - -"My dear Senator, frankly, I don't know. Again I beg you to think of -our position. The Army is in a muddle; it's a General thinking that he -must fall back, and yet not sure that he _can_ fall back without losing -the Army. Why, we're worrying about the lives of sixteen thousand men -and the self-respect of the nation, Senator." - -"I see," observed the Senator, nodding his head slowly. "And naturally -the welfare of one man's son doesn't--how do they say it--doesn't cut -any ice." - - -V - -And in Cuba it rained. In a few days Reilly's brigade discovered that -by their successful charge they had gained the inestimable privilege of -sitting in a wet trench and slowly but surely starving to death. Men's -tempers crumbled like dry bread. The soldiers who so cheerfully, -quietly and decently had captured positions which the foreign experts -had said were impregnable, now in turn underwent an attack which was -furious as well as insidious. The heat of the sun alternated with rains -which boomed and roared in their falling like mountain cataracts. It -seemed as if men took the fever through sheer lack of other occupation. -During the days of battle none had had time to get even a tropic -headache, but no sooner was that brisk period over than men began to -shiver and shudder by squads and platoons. Rations were scarce enough -to make a little fat strip of bacon seem of the size of a corner lot, -and coffee grains were pearls. There would have been godless quarreling -over fragments if it were not that with these fevers came a great -listlessness, so that men were almost content to die, if death required -no exertion. - -It was an occasion which distinctly separated the sheep from the goats. -The goats were few enough, but their qualities glared out like crimson -spots. - -One morning Jameson and Ripley, two Captains in the Forty-fourth Foot, -lay under a flimsy shelter of sticks and palm branches. Their dreamy, -dull eyes contemplated the men in the trench which went to left and -right. To them came Caspar Cadogan, moaning. "By Jove," he said, as he -flung himself wearily on the ground, "I can't stand much more of this, -you know. It's killing me." A bristly beard sprouted through the grime -on his face; his eyelids were crimson; an indescribably dirty shirt -fell away from his roughened neck; and at the same time various lines -of evil and greed were deepened on his face, until he practically stood -forth as a revelation, a confession. "I can't stand it. By Jove, I -can't." - -Stanford, a Lieutenant under Jameson, came stumbling along toward them. -He was a lad of the class of '98 at West Point. It could be seen that -he was flaming with fever. He rolled a calm eye at them. "Have you any -water, sir?" he said to his Captain. Jameson got upon his feet and -helped Stanford to lay his shaking length under the shelter. "No, boy," -he answered gloomily. "Not a drop. You got any, Rip?" - -"No," answered Ripley, looking with anxiety upon the young officer. -"Not a drop." - -"You, Cadogan?" - -Here Caspar hesitated oddly for a second, and then in a tone of deep -regret made answer, "No, Captain; not a mouthful." - -Jameson moved off weakly. "You lay quietly, Stanford, and I'll see what -I can rustle." - -Presently Caspar felt that Ripley was steadily regarding him. He -returned the look with one of half-guilty questioning. - -"God forgive you, Cadogan," said Ripley, "but you are a damned beast. -Your canteen is full of water." - -Even then the apathy in their veins prevented the scene from becoming -as sharp as the words sounded. Caspar sputtered like a child, and at -length merely said: "No, it isn't." Stanford lifted his head to shoot a -keen, proud glance at Caspar, and then turned away his face. - -"You lie," said Ripley. "I can tell the sound of a full canteen as far -as I can hear it." - -"Well, if it is, I--I must have forgotten it." - -"You lie; no man in this Army just now forgets whether his canteen is -full or empty. Hand it over." - -Fever is the physical counterpart of shame, and when a man has the one -he accepts the other with an ease which would revolt his healthy self. -However, Caspar made a desperate struggle to preserve the forms. He -arose and taking the string from his shoulder, passed the canteen to -Ripley. But after all there was a whine in his voice, and the -assumption of dignity was really a farce. "I think I had better go, -Captain. You can have the water if you want it, I'm sure. But--but I -fail to see--I fail to see what reason you have for insulting me." - -"Do you?" said Ripley stolidly. "That's all right." - -Caspar stood for a terrible moment. He simply did not have the strength -to turn his back on this--this affair. It seemed to him that he must -stand forever and face it. But when he found the audacity to look again -at Ripley he saw the latter was not at all concerned with the -situation. Ripley, too, had the fever. The fever changes all laws of -proportion. Caspar went away. - -"Here, youngster; here is your drink." - -Stanford made a weak gesture. "I wouldn't touch a drop from his blamed -canteen if it was the last water in the world," he murmured in his -high, boyish voice. - -"Don't you be a young jackass," quoth Ripley tenderly. - -The boy stole a glance at the canteen. He felt the propriety of arising -and hurling it after Caspar, but--he, too, had the fever. - -"Don't you be a young jackass," said Ripley again. - - -VI - -Senator Cadogan was happy. His son had returned from Cuba, and the 8:30 -train that evening would bring him to the station nearest to the stone -and red shingle villa which the Senator and his family occupied on the -shores of Long Island Sound. The Senator's steam yacht lay some hundred -yards from the beach. She had just returned from a trip to Montauk -Point where the Senator had made a gallant attempt to gain his son from -the transport on which he was coming from Cuba. He had fought a brave -sea-fight with sundry petty little doctors and ship's officers who had -raked him with broadsides, describing the laws of quarantine and had -used inelegant speech to a United States Senator as he stood on the -bridge of his own steam yacht. These men had grimly asked him to tell -exactly how much better was Caspar than any other returning soldier. - -But the Senator had not given them a long fight. In fact, the truth -came to him quickly, and with almost a blush he had ordered the yacht -back to her anchorage off the villa. As a matter of fact, the trip to -Montauk Point had been undertaken largely from impulse. Long ago the -Senator had decided that when his boy returned the greeting should have -something Spartan in it. He would make a welcome such as most soldiers -get. There should be no flowers and carriages when the other poor -fellows got none. He should consider Caspar as a soldier. That was the -way to treat a man. But in the end a sharp acid of anxiety had worked -upon the iron old man, until he had ordered the yacht to take him out -and make a fool of him. The result filled him with a chagrin which -caused him to delegate to the mother and sisters the entire business of -succouring Caspar at Montauk Point Camp. He had remained at home -conducting the huge correspondence of an active National politician and -waiting for this son whom he so loved and whom he so wished to be a man -of a certain strong, taciturn, shrewd ideal. The recent yacht voyage he -now looked upon as a kind of confession of his weakness, and he was -resolved that no more signs should escape him. - -But yet his boy had been down there against the enemy and among the -fevers. There had been grave perils, and his boy must have faced them. -And he could not prevent himself from dreaming through the poetry of -fine actions in which visions his son's face shone out manly and -generous. During these periods the people about him, accustomed as they -were to his silence and calm in time of stress, considered that affairs -in Skowmulligan might be most critical. In no other way could they -account for this exaggerated phlegm. - -On the night of Caspar's return he did not go to dinner, but had a tray -sent to his library, where he remained writing. At last he heard the -spin of the dog-cart's wheels on the gravel of the drive, and a moment -later there penetrated to him the sound of joyful feminine cries. He -lit another cigar; he knew that it was now his part to bide with -dignity the moment when his son should shake off that other welcome and -come to him. He could still hear them; in their exuberance they seemed -to be capering like schoolchildren. He was impatient, but this -impatience took the form of a polar stolidity. - -Presently there were quick steps and a jubilant knock at his door. -"Come in," he said. - -In came Caspar, thin, yellow, and in soiled khaki. "They almost tore me -to pieces," he cried, laughing. "They danced around like wild things." -Then as they shook hands he dutifully said "How are you, sir?" - -"How are you, my boy?" answered the Senator casually but kindly. - -"Better than I might expect, sir," cried Caspar cheerfully. "We had a -pretty hard time, you know." - -"You look as if they'd given you a hard run," observed the father in a -tone of slight interest. - -Caspar was eager to tell. "Yes, sir," he said rapidly. "We did, indeed. -Why, it was awful. We--any of us--were lucky to get out of it alive. It -wasn't so much the Spaniards, you know. The Army took care of them all -right. It was the fever and the--you know, we couldn't get anything to -eat. And the mismanagement. Why, it was frightful." - -"Yes, I've heard," said the Senator. A certain wistful look came into -his eyes, but he did not allow it to become prominent. Indeed, he -suppressed it. "And you, Caspar? I suppose you did your duty?" - -Caspar answered with becoming modesty. "Well, I didn't do more than -anybody else, I don't suppose, but--well, I got along all right, I -guess." - -"And this great charge up San Juan Hill?" asked, the father slowly. -"Were you in that?" - -"Well--yes; I was in it," replied the son. - -The Senator brightened a trifle. "You were, eh? In the front of it? or -just sort of going along?" - -"Well--I don't know. I couldn't tell exactly. Sometimes I was in front -of a lot of them, and sometimes I was--just sort of going along." - -This time the Senator emphatically brightened. "That's all right, then. -And of course--of course you performed your commissary duties -correctly?" - -The question seemed to make Caspar uncommunicative and sulky. "I did -when there was anything to do," he answered. "But the whole thing was -on the most unbusiness-like basis you can imagine. And they wouldn't -tell you anything. Nobody would take time to instruct you in your -duties, and of course if you didn't know a thing your superior officer -would swoop down on you and ask you why in the deuce such and such a -thing wasn't done in such and such a way. Of course I did the best I -could." - -The Senator's countenance had again become sombrely indifferent. "I -see. But you weren't directly rebuked for incapacity, were you? No; of -course you weren't. But--I mean--did any of your superior officers -suggest that you were 'no good,' or anything of that sort? I mean--did -you come off with a clean slate?" - -Caspar took a small time to digest his father's meaning. "Oh, yes, -sir," he cried at the end of his reflection. "The Commissary was in -such a hopeless mess anyhow that nobody thought of doing anything but -curse Washington." - -"Of course," rejoined the Senator harshly. "But supposing that you had -been a competent and well-trained commissary officer. What then?" - -Again the son took time for consideration, and in the end deliberately -replied "Well, if I had been a competent and well-trained Commissary I -would have sat there and eaten up my heart and cursed Washington." - -"Well, then, that's all right. And now about this charge up San Juan? -Did any of the Generals speak to you afterward and say that you had -done well? Didn't any of them see you?" - -"Why, n--n--no, I don't suppose they did ... any more than I did them. -You see, this charge was a big thing and covered lots of ground, and I -hardly saw anybody excepting a lot of the men." - -"Well, but didn't any of the men see you? Weren't you ahead some of the -time leading them on and waving your sword?" - -Caspar burst into laughter. "Why, no. I had all I could do to scramble -along and try to keep up. And I didn't want to go up at all." - -"Why?" demanded the Senator. - -"Because--because the Spaniards were shooting so much. And you could -see men falling, and the bullets rushed around you in--by the bushel. -And then at last it seemed that if we once drove them away from the top -of the hill there would be less danger. So we all went up." - -The Senator chuckled over this description. "And you didn't flinch at -all?" - -"Well," rejoined Caspar humorously, "I won't say I wasn't frightened." - -"No, of course not. But then you did not let anybody know it?" - -"Of course not." - -"You understand, naturally, that I am bothering you with all these -questions because I desire to hear how my only son behaved in the -crisis. I don't want to worry you with it. But if you went through the -San Juan charge with credit I'll have you made a Major." - -"Well," said Caspar, "I wouldn't say I went through that charge with -credit. I went through it all good enough, but the enlisted men around -went through in the same way." - -"But weren't you encouraging them and leading them on by your example?" - -Caspar smirked. He began to see a point. "Well, sir," he said with a -charming hesitation. "Aw--er--I--well, I dare say I was doing my share -of it." - -The perfect form of the reply delighted the father. He could not endure -blatancy; his admiration was to be won only by a bashful hero. Now he -beat his hand impulsively down upon the table. "That's what I wanted to -know. That's it exactly. I'll have you made a Major next week. You've -found your proper field at last. You stick to the Army, Caspar, and -I'll back you up. That's the thing. In a few years it will be a great -career. The United States is pretty sure to have an Army of about a -hundred and fifty thousand men. And starting in when you did and with -me to back you up--why, we'll make you a General in seven or eight -years. That's the ticket. You stay in the Army." The Senator's cheek -was flushed with enthusiasm, and he looked eagerly and confidently at -his son. - -But Caspar had pulled a long face. "The Army?" he said. "Stay in the -Army?" - -The Senator continued to outline quite rapturously his idea of the -future. "The Army, evidently, is just the place for you. You know as -well as I do that you have not been a howling success, exactly, in -anything else which you have tried. But now the Army just suits you. It -is the kind of career which especially suits you. Well, then, go in, -and go at it hard. Go in to win. Go at it." - -"But--" began Caspar. - -The Senator interrupted swiftly. "Oh, don't worry about that part of -it. I'll take care of all that. You won't get jailed in some Arizona -adobe for the rest of your natural life. There won't be much more of -that, anyhow; and besides, as I say, I'll look after all that end of -it. The chance is splendid. A young, healthy and intelligent man, with -the start you've already got, and with my backing, can do -anything--anything! There will be a lot of active service--oh, yes, I'm -sure of it--and everybody who----" - -"But," said Caspar, wan, desperate, heroic, "father, I don't care to -stay in the Army." - -The Senator lifted his eyes and darkened. "What?" he said. "What's -that?" He looked at Caspar. - -The son became tightened and wizened like an old miser trying to -withhold gold. He replied with a sort of idiot obstinacy, "I don't care -to stay in the Army." - -The Senator's jaw clinched down, and he was dangerous. But, after all, -there was something mournful somewhere. "Why, what do you mean?" he -asked gruffly. - -"Why, I couldn't get along, you know. The--the----" - -"The what?" demanded the father, suddenly uplifted with thunderous -anger. "The what?" - -Caspar's pain found a sort of outlet in mere irresponsible talk. "Well, -you know--the other men, you know. I couldn't get along with them, you -know. They're peculiar, somehow; odd; I didn't understand them, and -they didn't understand me. We--we didn't hitch, somehow. They're a -queer lot. They've got funny ideas. I don't know how to explain it -exactly, but--somehow--I don't like 'em. That's all there is to it. -They're good fellows enough, I know, but----" - -"Oh, well, Caspar," interrupted the Senator. Then he seemed to weigh a -great fact in his mind. "I guess----" He paused again in profound -consideration. "I guess----" He lit a small, brown cigar. "I guess you -are no damn good." - - -THE END. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Wounds in the rain, by Stephen Crane - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WOUNDS IN THE RAIN *** - -***** This file should be named 43706-8.txt or 43706-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/7/0/43706/ - -Produced by sp1nd and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from -images generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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