way. There, he had his regiment lie down, while waiting further orders, but he himself stood or rode about.

When he had waited as long as he deemed reasonable, and could not longer bear to see his men lying helpless, where the Spaniards were picking them off one by one, he took the matter in his own hands and moved forward. A regiment of regulars, waiting for orders, was come upon, where it lay in the road, and Colonel Roosevelt led his troopers through its lines. The regulars, stirred by this example, jumped up, orders or no orders, and followed, Roosevelt waving his hat as he rode in the van. From the back of the hat, a blue handkerchief with white spots in it hung down to protect his neck from the sun. It was the battle-flag of the Rough Riders that day. He had discarded his sword as a useless trapping which got in the way of his legs. He was coatless, and only a single shoulder-strap hung by a thread from his shirt, to which he had stitched it.

It was in this manner that he led the Rough Riders and those who had joined them, firing as they ran, up the slope first of Kettle Hill, then of San Juan. The colonel's horse became entangled in

a wire fence and he finished the charge afoot. At one time he found himself with only five men around him, and two of these fell at his feet.

The next height from Kettle Hill was San Juan itself, and Colonel Roosevelt led his men across the wide valley that lay between., White and black regulars and Rough Riders mingled in a confused mass, until he had behind him, parts of six regiments, which remained under his command until the next morning. When some of the strangers began to straggle to the rear at one point, where the fire was extremely savage, he leaped before them, with his pistol drawn. He told them that he knew how gallantly they had fought, but he warned them that he would shoot the first man to leave the front. "I shall be very sorry to hurt you, and you don't know whether or not I will keep my word; but my men can tell you." "He always does!" "He always does!" the Rough Riders shouted, and there was no further trouble.

When the fighting was over, the Rough Riders, although largely Southerners, were ready to accept the negro troops as comrades with hearty good-will. As they said, they were willing to "drink out of the

same canteen" with soldiers who had shown themselves such brave men.

The day's losses had been large. Of the less than five hundred Rough Riders engaged, eightynine had been killed or wounded, the heaviest sacrifice of any cavalry regiment. No loss was more keenly felt than that of "Bucky" O'Neill of Arizona, who had gone for a star and had received a bullet. At the fatal moment he was walking up and down in front of his troop, cigarette in hand. His men begged him to lie down, but he declared the "Spanish bullet has never been moulded that could hit me." He had hardly spoken the last of these words when he fell dead.

Colonel Roosevelt, who seemed to have no thought of danger or self-protection, had some very narrow escapes. His orderly, while saluting him, fell across his colonel's knees, mortally wounded. Again, a man who was speaking with the colonel, suddenly fell forward, stricken by a bullet which was doubtless aimed at Roosevelt. Little Texas, the colonel's horse, was scratched twice by bullets, one of which nicked the master's elbow. A sergeant, lying beside the colonel, quietly exclaimed:

"Beg pardon, Colonel; but I've been hit in the

leg."

"Badly?" the colonel inquired.

"Yes, Colonel, quite badly."

Roosevelt instantly saw to the removal of his companion from the front. All the stories that were told of his bravery may be matched with stories of his tenderness on the battle-field. He seemed to forget himself, but he never forgot his men.

The newspapers were again filled with accounts of Roosevelt and his Rough Riders. It is true that he had shown no more heroism on the heights of Cuba than he had shown, time and again, in the battles of peace at home. In the latter, however, he could be suspected of "playing politics" or, perhaps, of an indifference to popular favor. But, when he ventured

"Life and love and youth,

For the great prize of death in battle,"

there was no one among all his countrymen who could any longer coldly doubt the quality of his courage and devotion.

THE HOME-COMING

Frightful conditions in camp, while waiting to be sent home. The famous Roosevelt "Round Robin" saves the army. August 7, 1898, embarking at Santiago. - Landing at Montauk Point, Long Island, August 15.-The Rough Riders welcomed as the heroes of the war, and their leader is a popular idol for the first time in his life. - The affectionate relations of commander and regiment. - Glad days in camp. - September 15, 1898, mustered out. Regretful partings of strange comrades. McGinty's call on his Fifth Avenue captain. — Other stories of New York experiences.

AFTER San Juan came dreary days in the trenches. That period was followed by the negotiations for the surrender of Santiago, and then came the hardest experience of all, - idle camp life in the height of a tropic summer, while waiting for Spain to give up the war. The provisions for the health of the men were in the same state of neglect as the supplies for feeding them.

Fever attacked the Rough Riders. There was little medicine and there were no cots. The sick had to lie in the fever-breeding mud. First and last all the officers of the regiment fell victims, ex