mpeded, for a blood-thirsty enemy, had to be broken to
him gently by the Colonel.

CAMP ALARMS--FALSE BUT STARTLING.

The Red-Headed Recruit and the Cuban Dog.--The Charge of the Hospital
Corps.--Private Timmons and the Carabao.

In the face of his reputation for undaunted courage and dashing deeds
of valor, the American soldier has at times allowed himself to become
frightfully alarmed and on the eve of being panic-stricken, when taken
unawares. He soon collects himself, however, and is ready to meet
all emergencies, let them come from whatever source they will. Even
the old "vet" may lose his head for a moment or two, and find some
difficulty in establishing his equilibrium. The Yankee soldier is ever
ready to obey his officer, and if the latter will but keep his wits,
order may be restored out of hopeless demoralization.

The Civil War was replete with camp alarms, some of them of the
most ridiculous type; and our war with Spain and the Filipinos has
added greatly to the stock. The tropical countries, with their dense
growths of vegetation, myriads of crawling creatures, and hair-raising
sounds, form a replete field for alarms, which are usually started
by frightened sentries on lonely outposts.

THE RED-HEADED RECRUIT AND THE CUBAN DOG.

One of the most notable alarms that occurred during the campaign
about Santiago was within two miles of the "Stone Block-House," at
El Caney, on the night before the attack on that place. The brigade
that did the hardest fighting there, and that had been in advance
the greater part of the time from the landing at Baiquiri, received
orders late in the afternoon of June 30th to move forward and take
a position within easy striking distance of El Caney, and to there
rest on arms for the night. The march began at dusk, and, by a long,
circuitous route, ended at 12 o'clock midnight at an open field, which
the guides said was within two miles of the nearest Spanish position in
the town. The march, in single file, up and down hills, over slippery
ground, by men as silent as mice, was a tiresome one. All were glad
to hear the word passed along in low whispers to quietly lie down,
retaining arms and equipment, and bivouac for the night. The silence
of death prevailed. The long line of dark figures on the open field,
silhouetted against the star-lit sky, and the stillness that reigned,
reminded one more of stereopticon views thrown upon canvas, than of the
presence