omito negro, and dysentery. Meanwhile the besiegers make
no attempt at assault, but occasionally challenge the troops to sally
from their stronghold by firing their sporting rifles within earshot of
the town.

Several foreign vessels of war are stationed in the bay ready, if
necessary, to assist the foreign residents of the town. Among these
vessels are the American war steamer 'Penobscot' and H.B.M.'s steam-ship
the 'Eclipse;' the latter having been summoned from Port Royal, Jamaica,
by the English vice-consul of Santiago.

One day a great panic is raised, with cries of' Los insurrectos! Los
insurrectos!' followed by a charge of mounted military through the
streets. It is reported that the insurgents are coming; so everybody
hastens home, and much slamming of doors and barring of windows is
heard. But the alarm proves a false one; and, with the exception of a
few arrests made by the police, just to keep up appearances, no further
damage results.

One memorable night, shortly after the inhabitants have retired, the
terrible cry of 'fire!' is heard throughout the town, and a report
spreads that the insurgents have at last effected an entrance, and set
fire to several houses.

Sure enough, from the roof of our studio, Nicasio and I witness what, at
our distance, seems to be the burning of Santiago de Cuba! The sky is
black with smoke, and from the centre of the town broad flames mount
high into the air. Verily, part of Santiago is in flames, but the cause
of the conflagration is--as we afterwards find--in no way connected with
the insurrection.

A 'panaderia' (baker's shop) and a linen-draper's warehouse, called 'El
Globo,' owned by Catalans, have both caught fire by accident. Under
ordinary circumstances, the disaster would not have created any other
alarm than that which usually accompanies such a rare event as a fire in
Cuba. But having connected its origin with the pending revolution, the
town is thrown into a state of extreme panic, and until the truth is
made manifest, the greatest confusion prevails. Mounted guards and
policemen--armed to the teeth--charge through the streets in all
directions, and the volunteers turn out en masse and congregate in large
numbers before the scene of the conflagration in the Plaza de Dolores.

Even the foreign consuls share for the moment in the popular
apprehension. Their national flags are seen to flutter over their
respective consulates, and a few well-armed marines from th