and tail were a good nine miles apart. So much trouble had been experienced
in getting the artillery up the incredibly steep mountain-sides that no
one had been able to give assistance or even thought to the hopelessly
embarrassed wagon-train, and consequently we were practically without food
for over twenty-four hours. When at last something to eat did come plodding
along, we were obliged to put up with half-rations in order that our little
collection of recently acquired prisoners might be fed. At a conservative
estimate, those prisoners must have been the hungriest lot of men that ever
laid down their arms. There were less than sixty of them, and they drew
rations for about 1,200. However, they were fed; and we had the consolation
of realizing that victory, like some other things of less familiar
acquaintance, is its own reward. By noon on the 14th, everything was once
more in order; and I have not yet ceased to wonder how those in authority
managed to erase so quickly the chaos of the night before.

[Illustration: The Plaza Principal in Mayaguez, looking toward the Church.]

The engagement at Las Marias, while not particularly momentous in itself,
was note-worthy as being the last between our forces and those of Spain
during the recent war. I do not believe that the knowledge of this
fact--even had we possessed it at the time--would have materially consoled
us for the disappointment we felt in being obliged to stop shooting just
when we had learned to do it so beautifully; but, still, it is something to
have been in at the finish.



CHAPTER IX

The Territory Won