he receive the best of care."

So the painful journey was resumed, but on the crest of San Juan
Heights, overlooking the city, the litter-bearers found that they were
carrying a dead man. It was useless to convey him farther, and a
little later they buried him, with full military honors, on the sunny
slope that was shortly destined to become the scene of one of the
world's decisive battles.

In the mean time Ridge Norris, snatched from the very jaws of
destruction by the prompt devotion of his prisoner-friend, had emerged
from his concealment, and hastened down the hill in a direction
opposite to that taken by those who sought his life.

After awhile, believing that he had gained a safe distance from them,
he paused to consider his situation. A minute later, when he had just
planned to make a great circuit that should outflank the Spaniards in
the ravine, and bring him to where the Americans were landing, a rush
of approaching feet and a medley of voices caused him to plunge into
the dense growth bordering the trail. Then catching a glimpse of the
retreating Spaniards, whom he imagined to be searching for him, he
forced his way still deeper into the tangle, until they were lost to
hearing as well as to sight.

Half an hour afterwards, reassured by the unbroken silence of his
surroundings, our young American attempted to regain the trail he had
left, but, to his dismay, had failed to do so when darkness overtook
him. The idea of spending a night in that Cuban jungle was decidedly
unpleasant; but as there was nothing else to be done, Ridge quickly
made such preparations for it as his limited resources would allow.
His knowledge of Cuban woodcraft was much greater now than it had been
two weeks earlier, and within fifteen minutes he had constructed a rude
hammock of tough vines, over which was laid a great palm-leaf. This
would at least swing him clear of the ground, with its pestilent
dampness and swarming land-crabs. Although he knew that he should
suffer from cold before morning, he dared not light a fire, for it
would be almost certain to attract unwelcome attention. So he lined
his swinging-bed with such dried grasses as he could find, and nestling
in it tried to sleep. For hours this was impossible. The forest about
him was filled with strange rattlings, dashings, and other
indescribable sounds. He was also cold and hungry. But at length he
lost consciousness of his unhappy position, and drifted into