The post-office must have been up a tree.

After a brief rest on the south slope of the mountains, we resumed our
march, a wearisome one for all of us and exceedingly painful to me with
my disabled feet. They seemed even sorer after a halt. My ankles were
now very lame from unnaturally favoring my pinched toes. The midday sun
was hot, and we suffered a good deal from thirst. There were no longer
any houses where we could procure water. We had not seen a stream of any
sort in the last twenty miles. I staggered along as best I could, a
straggler behind my companions. A little after noon we came suddenly
upon two or three little water holes directly in our path. It seemed
like an oasis in the desert. We could not see where the water came from
nor where it went, but it was clear and good, and we were duly thankful.
We ate dinner here under a small palm tree, and enjoyed a siesta for an
hour.

In the afternoon we met only one person, a Cuban produce pedler on
horseback. He treated those who cared for liquor out of a big black
bottle. That afternoon's tramp will linger long in our memories. I
thought we should never get across that seemingly endless savanna. At
last, when it was near six o'clock, we reached an old deserted open
shack which stood on the plain not far from the trail. Here we spent the
night, cooking our supper and procuring in a near-by well tolerably
good water, notwithstanding the dirty scum on top of it. We were within
four miles of Puerto Principe, and my ears were delighted that evening
with a sound which I had not heard in more than three months--the
whistle of a locomotive. Our night was somewhat disturbed by rats,
fleas, and mosquitoes, but we were too tired not to sleep a good part of
it. The breeze across the savanna was gentle and soothing.

The next morning we walked into the time-scarred city of Puerto
Principe--that is, the others walked and I hobbled. If possible, my feet
were worse than ever. In the outskirts, our party divided, Franklin,
Murphy, and Carpenter branching off to the left to go to the camp of the
Eighth U. S. Cavalry two miles east of the city near the railroad track,
and Crosby and I going directly into the heart of the town in search of
a hotel. We had a long walk through the narrow and roughly paved streets
before we found one. There is no denying that we were a tough-looking
pair of tramps. We were unshaven and none too clean. Our clothes were
worn and frayed, and soiled wi