hours; and yet, in spite of their tremendous
exertions, hundreds of seriously or dangerously wounded men lay on the
ground for hours, many of them half naked, and nearly all without
shelter from the blazing tropical sun in the daytime, or the damp,
chilly dew at night. No organized or systematic provision had been made
for feeding them or giving them drink, and many a poor fellow had not
tasted food or water for twelve hours, and had been exposed during all
that time to the almost intolerable glare of the sun. I saw a soldier of
the Tenth Cavalry, who had been shot through the body, lie on the ground
in front of the operating-tent for at least three hours, naked to the
waist, and exposed to sunshine in which I could hardly hold my hand. I
speak of this particular soldier, not because he was an exception, but
rather because he exhibited such magnificent fortitude and
self-control. Although he must have been suffering terrible agony, he
lay there for three hours without a murmur or a complaint, and, so far
as I could see, without change of countenance, until his turn came and
he was lifted upon the operating-table.

At sunset the five surgeons had operated upon and dressed the wounds of
one hundred and fifty-four men. As night advanced and the wounded came
in more rapidly, no count or record of the operations was made or
attempted. Late in the evening of Friday, division and regimental
surgeons began to come back to the hospital from the front, and the
operating force was increased to ten. More tables were set out in front
of the tents, and the surgeons worked at them all night, partly by
moonlight and partly by the dim light of flaring candles held in the
hands of stewards and attendants. Fortunately, the weather was clear and
still, and the moon nearly full. There were no lanterns, apparently, in
the camp,--at least, I saw none in use outside of the
operating-tent,--and if the night had been dark, windy, or rainy, four
fifths of the wounded would have had no help or surgical treatment
whatever until the next day. All the operations outside of a single tent
were performed by the dim light of one unsheltered and flaring candle,
or at most two. More than once even the candles were extinguished for
fear that they would draw the fire of Spanish sharp-shooters who were
posted in trees south of the camp, and who exchanged shots with our
pickets at intervals throughout the night. These cold-blooded and
merciless guerrillas fir