. The chicago Record's war stories : by staff correspondents in the field ; copiously illustrated. the road. This wasrather unusual at this particular time in themorning, but everything lately had seemedunusual, so that I did not attach any particu-lar significance to the circumstances. ButCapt. McCormick was in a hurry for. break-fast. I noticed that, and Henry Sylvesterwas so agitated that he cut a gash in histhumb in opening a can of tomatoes anddropped into the ashes the bacon that he hadsliced. The muster rolls were being called by thistime, so I went back to where Capt. ONeilland I had s
. The chicago Record's war stories : by staff correspondents in the field ; copiously illustrated. the road. This wasrather unusual at this particular time in themorning, but everything lately had seemedunusual, so that I did not attach any particu-lar significance to the circumstances. ButCapt. McCormick was in a hurry for. break-fast. I noticed that, and Henry Sylvesterwas so agitated that he cut a gash in histhumb in opening a can of tomatoes anddropped into the ashes the bacon that he hadsliced. The muster rolls were being called by thistime, so I went back to where Capt. ONeilland I had slept and got my pipe and after a protracted search I-recoveredthose necessary articles and returned to themess I found that nearly every one had Wood asked me how I had enjoyed mywalk from Baiquiri—refering to the march ofthe day before—and I told him. He smiled ina maddeningly superior sort of way and askedme how far I thought it was. My estimatewas fifty miles. His was seven, which he wasgood enough to extend to nine on pressure; THE CHICAGO RECORDS WAR STORIES 66. ROUGH RIDERS PITCHING THEIR TENTS. but then he rode all the way. Wait till Imake you do twenty-five miles on end, hesaid, and added: You may have some walk-ing to do to-day. He seemed particularly cheerful, and , who was finishing his concoction ofbacon grease, tomatoes and hardtack, wasequally so. Dr. Church, with his twinklingeyes and his long, melancholy face, wasstuffing what he called hay into his stubby,well-blacked brier. Were going to toddleinto Santiago this evening, farrier, he ex-plained. Col. Wood jumped up and snapped hiswatch shut. We start in five minutes, hesaid. Any one who isnt ready will be leftbehind. Wheres Capt. Llewellyn? He hurried off and the rougn riders formedin their troops before I had finished my cof-fee. Henry Sylvester bundled his pans andtin plates into a gunnysack without washingthem and began to pack up his mule. Notents had been put up the ni
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectspanish, bookyear1898
