ccessively three or four times, and the troops
were now thoroughly encouraged, and some of them even asked to be
allowed to charge. Sam, however, postponed this final act as long as he
could. It was not until he saw the captain whom he had met in the woods
mangled and instantly killed by a piece of shell that he became so
angry that he could restrain himself no longer. He gave the order to
fix bayonets, and with a yell the men rose from their lairs and rushed
over the intervening ground to the enemy's position. The Cubapinos did
not wait for them, but turned and ran precipitously. Sam and his men
followed them for at least a mile, when they made a stand again.

"They're in the trenches now that they were in this morning," explained
a lieutenant.

Here the same tactics were renewed, and in another half-hour Sam
ordered his men to charge again. This time the enemy waited longer, and
many of the attacking party fell, but before they reached the trenches
the Cubapinos took flight, and Sam saw his soldiers bayonet the last
two or three of them in the back. There were a good many dead in the
trenches, all of them shot through the head. It was a proud moment for
Sam when he stood on the edge of the trench and planted Old Gory there
while the men cheered. A wounded Cubapino lay just before him, and one
of the soldiers kicked him in the head and killed him. Sam noticed it,
and was a little startled to find that it seemed all right to him.

"I've half a mind to kick the next wounded man I see," he thought. "It
must be rather good sport"; but he did not do it.

The rest of the fight was in the nature of a procession. They pursued
the flying Cubapinos as fast as they could, but were unable to come up
with them. In a native village through which they passed, Sam asked an
old man, who had been too weak to get away, how far off San Diego was,
and learned that it was five miles away to the left. He could not
understand this, but still he kept on in that direction. As they left
the village it burst into flames, for the last soldiers had set it on
fire. Sam thought of the old man perishing in his hut, and it seemed to
him a fine thing and quite natural. On their way they came across other
bodies of troops who joined them, and it so happened that no one came
forward of superior rank to Sam, and consequently he retained the
command. Before they came in sight of San Diego he had quite a brigade
under h