This Week Of Rest, After The Cramped Life Of The Troop-Ship, Was Not
Ungrateful, Although The Rations Were Scarce And There Was No
Tobacco, Which Was As Necessary To The Health Of The Men As Their
Food.
During this week of waiting, the chief excitement was to walk out a
mile and a half beyond the outposts to the hill of El Poso, and look
across the basin that lay in the great valley which leads to
Santiago.
The left of the valley was the hills which hide the sea.
The right of the valley was the hills in which nestle the village of
El Caney. Below El Poso, in the basin, the dense green forest
stretched a mile and a half to the hills of San Juan. These hills
looked so quiet and sunny and well kept that they reminded one of a
New England orchard. There was a blue bungalow on a hill to the
right, a red bungalow higher up on the right, and in the centre the
block-house of San Juan, which looked like a Chinese pagoda. Three-
quarters of a mile behind them, with a dip between, were the long
white walls of the hospital and barracks of Santiago, wearing
thirteen Red Cross flags, and, as was pointed out to the foreign
attaches later, two six-inch guns a hundred yards in advance of the
Red Cross flags.
It was so quiet, so fair, and so prosperous looking that it breathed
of peace.
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