sweeping through a zone of most destructive fire, scaling a steep and difficult hill and assisting in capturing the enemy's strong position, Fort San Juan, at 1.30 p. m. This crest was about 125 feet above the general level and was defended by deep trenches and a loop-holed brick fort, surrounded by barbed wire entanglements. General Hawkins, some time after I reached the crest, reported that the Sixth and Sixteenth Infantry had captured the hill, which I now consider incorrect, and credit is almost equally due the Sixth, Ninth, Thirteenth, Sixteenth and Twenty-fourth Regiments of infantry. Owing to General Hawkins' representations I forwarded the report sent to corps headquarters about 3 p. m. that the Sixth and Sixteenth Infantry regiments had captured the hill. The Thirteenth Infantry captured the enemy's colors waving over the fort, but unfortunately destroyed them, distributing the fragments among the men, because, as was asserted, "it was a bad omen," The Enemy's Colors two or three men having been shot while assisting Private Torn to Pieces. Arthur Agnew, Company K, Thirteenth Infantry, the captor. All fragments which could be recovered were sent to Washington for preservation. The greatest credit is due to the officers of my command, whether company, battalion, regiment or brigade commanders, who so admirably directed the formation of their troops, unavoidably intermixed in the dense thicket, and made the desperate rush for the distant and strongly defended crest. I have already mentioned the circumstances of my Third Brigade's advance across the ford, where in the brief space of ten minutes it lost its brave commander (killed) and the next two ranking officers by disabling wounds. Yet, in spite of these confusing conditions, the formations were effected without hesitation, although under a stinging fire, companies acting singly in some circumstances and by battalion and regiments in others, rushing through the jungle, across the stream waist deep, and over the wide bottom thickly set with barbed wire obstructions. In this connection I desire to particularly mention First Lieutenant Wendell L. Simpson, adjutant, Ninth Infantry, acting assistant adjutant general, Third Brigade, who was noticeably active and efficient in carrying out orders which I had given him to his brigade commander, who had been killed. The enemy having retired to a second line of rifle pits, I directed my line to hold their positions and intrenchments. At ten minutes past 3 p. m., I received, almost simultaneously, two requests, one from Colonel Wood, commanding a cavalry brigade, and one from General Sumner, asking for assistance for the cavalry on my right, as they were being hard pressed. I immediately sent to their aid the Thirteenth Infantry, who promptly went on this further mission, despite the heavy losses they had already sustained. Great credit is due to the gallant officer and gentleman, BrigadierGeneral H. S. Hawkins, who, placing himself between the two regiments, leading his brigade, the Sixth and Sixteenth Infantry, urged and led them by voice and bugle call to the attack so successfully accomplished. HOW HAM. FISH MET HIS DEATH. BY THE "WORLD" CORRESPONDENT. HIS is the narrative of Edward Culver, Rough Rider, wounded at ship "Olivette," just after his return from Cuba, he didn't look much like a soldier. He had no hat. He had one when he went to Cuba, but he had thrown it away on the march from Altares to Siboney. He had no boots. The surgeons had cut them off on the battlefield as he lay wounded beside "Ham." Fish. His only clothing was a blue flannel shirt and a pair of duck trousers, which had been brown, but they were faded now, and from the knees down they were darker than they had ever been. "My blood made them that way," he said in explanation. There were no buttons on the blue shirt. It hung open; a bandaged wound was visible just above his heart. A bullet had entered there. It was the bullet that had killed "Ham." Fish on its way to Culver's breast. He is only a boy, this trooper from the West-twenty-two years of age. He lives at Muskogee, Indian Territory, and he grew up out there on the cattle ranges of his native place. When Theodore Roosevelt organized his Rough Riders he enlisted in Troop L. Shortly afterward he became the firm friend of "Ham." Fish. Here in his own words is the story of that friendship, of Fish's life in the field and of his death in battle: The first time I saw Sergeant Fish was at San Antone, Tex. That was on the nineteenth day of May. You see, we all of us had heerd of him before and we just all nat'rally wanted him in our troop. Yes, And he just took a seemed to want to be The Rough Rider's sir, we was all anxious for him. mighty likin' to our troop, too. He with our boys. You see, Cap'n Capron he was a military man, and Fish just said he wanted a military man to lead him. So at Tampa he was transferred to our troop. That was the night before we got on the transport for Cuba. And that same night he was made sergeant of our squad. He was a great friend of all of our squad, and we all allowed he was all right. You see, we all in our squad grew up together from boys around Muskogee, Indian Territory, and on the cattle ranges we just nat'rally judge a man by his looks. So we just all of us allowed the sergeant of the third squad was all right, and he was mighty proud of his squad. The night he was made our sergeant he shook each one of us by the hand and he says, "Boys, we eleven must always stand together, no matter what comes." And we all of us allowed we would. When we was goin' to Cuba he found out where I was from, and he just got to be a particular friend of mine. He always allowed he wanted to go to Indian Territory, so he says, "I'll go after we come home again, and we all will have some good fun on the ranges." We were on the "Yucatan" and we landed at Altares on the twentysecond of June about three o'clock in the afternoon. Our squad landed in a skiff. The surf was runnin' pretty high too. You see, he had charge of the rations, so he just says to me, "You watch the rations and don't let 'em get wet and I'll row." So he takes an oar from one of the men and rowed in through the surf. Then when we landed we all put up our tents and that night we all had a good time around the camp-fire. We was all glad to get to Cuba, and it sorter seemed nat'ral to be on land again. We all went to bed early that night and we slept well. The next day was the twenty-third. That was the day before our squad went into the fight. That was the day before Sergeant Fish was killed. We all in our squad were lonesome that day, 'specially at night around the camp-fire. I always made his coffee and fried his meat in with mine. Each man had to fry his own meat, but, you see, my pan, was big and it held enough for two of us. He give me charge of the rations a few days after he became our sergeant, and as I liked him I was bound to cook his rations. We didn't go to bed till tol'ably late that night. It rained hard. The boys they all wrapped up in their ponchos and lay down. But, let alone the rain, the snakes and lizards and land crabs wouldn't let them sleep, Fish's Forebodings. The land crabs just nat'rally eat them up. I says to the sergeant, "It won't do to let the rations get spoiled." So we covered them up with our ponchos and stood under a tree. But a tree don't help any in that kind of rain, and we just got soaked right smart. When the rain was just washin' us like a • waterfall, Sergeant Fish he turns around to me and he allowed, "Old boy, this is soldierin' "- kind of intimatin', you know, it was rough. Then after the rain stopped we built up a big fire to dry by. Presently Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt and Cap'n Capron came along, and they was complimentin' us about the march and talkin' about the Spaniards. They was fine men, them two, Colonel Roosevelt and Cap'n Capron, and the boys all liked them. "Then after they left, Sergeant Fish, he turned to me and he says, 'Old boy, is your father and mother living?' And I allowed they was, out in Indian Territory, and a sister and two brothers, leastwise if the brothers hadn't enlisted since I left. And he says, 'Old boy, I suppose the people at home are thinkin' about us now.' Premonitions of Death. "That night Fred Beal stood guard. We had first call at half past three, reveille at four, and mess call at a quarter after four. At twenty minutes to five we got our orders to march. At breakfast I says to Sergeant Fish, 'I believe I'll fry some of this hardtack.' You see, we got powerful tired of our rations, so I just fried the hardtack that morning and it was a change. Some of the boys in the squad asked for more tomatoes. So Sergeant he turned to me and he says, 'How many tomatoes have we?' And I allowed we had sev'ral cans. 'Well,' he says, 'we'll cut some more open. We're liable to all be killed to-day and we may as well have enough to eat.' "Sergeant Fish said that morning sev'ral times he was goin' to get killed that day. He was carryin' an extra pair of shoes along. He allowed they cost him $7. He threw them away just after breakfast. ""Sergeant,' I says, 'they may come in handy.' "No, he says, 'I don't think I'll need them any more'-kind of sad like. He also give away his loose clothes that morning. "Before the march Cap'n Capron ordered me in the advance guard. You see, six of us and Cap'n Capron went ahead of the Rough Riders 200 yards as scouts. Tom Isbell, another Cherokee Indian, of our regiment, was ahead. Cap'n Capron came next right in the middle of the road. I came next on the left flank in the bushes. Bud Purnell was on the right flank. Then came Wyly Skelton. Tom Meagher and Sergeant Burns (formerly a New York policeman), each about thirty feet apart. We was marching along a common country road. There was thick bush on each side, and we was lookin' for Spaniards all the time and had our guns ready. When we had marched three miles we knew the Spaniards was near. "Presently we came to a dead Spaniard on the road. He was just lyin' there covered with dust. Just then Tom Isbell he see a Spaniard and he picked him. Then they opened fire from all around us and from each side of us. Tom Isbell he was hit seven times before he fell. He was tough. Cap'n Capron he was shot and fell soon as the firin' opened. A Dead Spaniard, Then "Soon as the shindig began I dropped down on the road plumb across it and began firin'. Presently Sergeant Fish he rushed up. He says, 'Old boy, you've got a good place here.' I says, 'I have got a good place.' "You see, my head was by the edge of the road and my body plumb across it. The bank was about four inches high, so I just naturally felt it wasn't such a good place. So Sergeant Fish he just drops down on the left beside me and began shootin'. He was about a foot from me. We was lyin' plumb across the middle of the road. The sun was just bilin' down on us. The Spaniards was pepperin' us from each side. "The Sergeant he just fired two shots when he gasped and says to me, 'Old boy, I'm wounded; I'm badly wounded.' "I says, 'I'm killed.' "He says, 'The same bullet hit both of us.' left elbow and says, 'Give me your canteen, old boy.' Both Hit by the "I give it to him. Then I guess I fainted. When I come to he says, 'You're all right, old boy.' He was smilin'. "Then he kind of drew up his shoulders. 1 "I says to him, 'Sergeant, are you hit hard?' But he didn't say nothin.' He kind of smiled. Then I took his hat off and see he was dead. "Meagher came along then, and he says to me, 'Is he dead?' and I says, 'Yes.' Then Kline came up to us, and Meagher says to him, 'We'll stay with him till he's dead '-meanin' me. Kline give me a drink of water. "Lieutenant Thomas he passed, too, when Sergeant was wounded, and Sergeant he says to him, 'I'm wounded.' But Lieutenant Thomas he had to go to the front to take Cap'n Capron's place. Cap'n Capron he was lyin' wounded on the road just a few yards from us. "I lay there as much as an hour beside Sergeant Fish after he was dead. The bullet had entered his left side, came out at the right and hit me in the left breast just above the heart. It was just as Sergeant said. The same bullet hit us both. You see we hear its ping, and when it went |