ldiers whose valor could not be excelled,
Slumbering in their desolate tombs.

Far away from their kindred they are sleeping to-day
In Mindanao's untrodden plains,
Where their comrades have laid them to moulder away
Into dust, in their cold silent graves.

By Camp Vicars they fought at the dead hour of night
Outnumbered by the savages wild;
Until they fell, overpowered, on the sward at the feet
Of their foemen, where like soldiers they died.

Perhaps far away in their own native land,
In the homes of their childhood so dear,
Are their mothers awaiting to grasp their kind hands--
But alas! they shall wait many years.

For their loved ones will never return again
To greet them through life's pleasant way,
For they are laying in the grass-covered graves where they fell,
And are sleeping long ages away.

But though death has overtaken those heroes so brave
Who fell for their Country's fame,
Yet their memory shall always live on the breasts
Of their comrades, whom they perished to save.

THE BATTLE OF MACIU.

A MUCH NEEDED REST.

The troops were given five days in which to rest and recuperate, for the
reader can easily imagine the hardships, privations, and sufferings
which are undergone by soldiers while on the march, especially where
there are no roads of any description, save the narrow, rugged, and, in
many places, impassable trails, which are met with all through the
island of Mindanao.

Therefore it was practically necessary that, after six days of
continual marching through the thick brush of this island, they should
be given ample time in which to attain that standard of physique which
is the most characteristic mark of the American soldier.

It was the morning of the 28th of September, the bright sun had risen
gorgeously over the white tented plain, the azure blue sky was now
clear, save a few clouds that still rested lazily on the hill-tops, and
all nature's splendors and attractions were everywhere to be seen.

To the inexperienced observer it would seem that the Moros and Americans
were living together in happy unison with each other in this, the most
remote of American garrisons. But this was not so, for ere another hour
had dragged itself lazily into the dim, misty past, the sons of fair
Columbia were in complete readiness to march from the camp over many a
weary mile to measure the