VOL. LXXXII

HE ward-room and the gun-deck are not in the confidence of admirals. We knew nothing of this revolution which blazed along the Mosquito Coast, except that it had jerked us out of Balboa very early on a wet Sunday morning-torn us from wives and sweethearts and the pleasant relaxations of Panama-and brought us north across the squally Caribbean at some knots above standard steaming speed. The usual rumors seeped around the ship-battles, murder, and sudden death, and so forth; and they told the Landing Force to get ready, which it did with the ease of established routine. The

NO. 1

Landing Force was on deck, with its fieldgear struck up, when the Flag-ship nosed in across the shallows and anchored, in choppy yellow water, at about seven bells of the morning watch, two thousand yards off the long dock of the Fruit Company at Cabesa Dios.

All hands looked eagerly and listened. There was the red line of the bluffs above the surf, and the tall smoke-stacks of the Company's mills, quivering in the heathaze; you saw the red roofs of the Company buildings all arow, and the low hills of the Mosquito Coast faintly purple inland. No smoke of burning houses stained the blue sky, and the hot little wind that blew offshore brought no crackle of rifles or drumming of machine-guns. By every sign, the fight, if any, was finished. The

seamen and marines of the Landing Force ceased to fidget with their combat equipment, said, collectively, "Oh, hell," and went below to take off their leggings; for

A Federal.

such things had happened to them before. A little shore-boat coughed out to us, and a languid civilian in crumpled pongee cloth came aboard and was escorted down the Admiral's hatch by the Flag-Lieutenant. The Gunnery Officer said, since Landing

Force was belayed, he would like a little gunnery drill, and the Commander directed that bugles be blown to that effect. All hands went disgustedly to Quarters.

"-Yeh," said Forward Defense Talker, slightly winded from his climb up the foremast, to Ford Range Keeper, plugging in his telephone-"grabbed us outa Balboa for nuthin' an' me with only one overnight liberty marked up! What I say is-Forrard d'fense Aye Aye, Sir! Forrard d'fense mannednready, Sir!-it's a hard line of boats, these U. S. Navy boats

It developed that there had been a battle the day before, and in the afternoon they called away the barge; and Admiral and Staff, with the Naval Officer commanding and the Marine Officer of the Landing Force, included for tactical reasons, went ashore to look at the situation. The barge, mahogany and ebony and gold in the August sun, shouldered against the landingstage at the seaward end of the dock; and we walked shoreward, very warm indeed. Swarms of small fry troubled the water in the lee of the dock, and Staff halted while the Admiral looked and considered that they would be fine panfish, and what kind of bait would you think A sunburnt, lanternjawed fellow materialized from behind a banana car, and said he looked after the dock, and they were called brim, and wouldn't take no kind of bait nohow, on a hook, but you could take 'em in a net. The Flag-Lieutenant, who doesn't fish, pointed out a large black automobile and a small dusty one drawing up to the end of the dock, and said he thought that would be the Manager. A six-foot tarpon rolled up his silver sides in the

shadow of the dock, and the fry skipped and skittered every way at once. The Admiral decided that tarpon-fishing wouldn't be good, either; too much free bait around; and the Manager came up and presented himself. The little car followed the big one, and we all went up

the hill and into the town of Cabesa Dios.

Commander, Landing Force, and the Marine Officer fitted themselves into the small, dusty car, as befitted their humble station, and asked questions of the rednecked driver, who wore a three-gallon Stetson and an Arkansas drawl. This battle, now-what happened, anyhow? Any casualties? These goonies got any special ideas about fightin'?

It appeared that the Reds-old Sarmiento's crowd, you know-had been right cute. There was a rumor that they were up at the Cape. Then, very early in the morning, yesterday, they came in two ways at once-about two-fifty of them. One crowd from up the beach and one from down the beach. Landed from a little steamer; and the steamer laid off all day an' fired some kind of a pop-gun cannon at the place. Hit the hotel-show you when we get there. There were seventy-odd Blues in garrison, with General Montera and Colonel Alvarado. They fought some, and shot around right smart. Mostly over in Bilwawa, the native town -upset things considerable there. Never bothered the Company property or the Company houses, though-except the houses down toward Bilwawa-they got shot up-show you when we get there. Went on all day; 'bout dark, everybody quit, and the Reds, as you might say, won. Reckon it was right hard on the women folks

-Us? Oh, all the Americans-women an' all-we got down under the bluff on the beach and stayed there until it was over. Company engineer got nicked in the bean by a bullet that ricochetted down from a tree-hurt very bad. An' when the shootin' stopped we all went home. Yeh; fifteen or twenty killed, an' some more died to-day, in the hosspital. Hosspital is full of wounded-forty or fifty. Show you when we get there. This here's the Company office-there's old Ramérez-he's one of our bookkeepers-they appointed him Comandante when they left this morning.

The Admiral's conveyance halted at a large building under spreading thick mango-trees, where a number of natives milled around. Admiral and Staff passed into the Manager's office; we alighted, and a

tall, Spanish-looking caballero strolled up to us and was presented. He wore a sombrero with a red band, and a pearl-handled revolver. He spoke English with a clipped accent, and showed very white teeth when he smiled.-"The Señor Comandante, here, he had a rough time, yesterday. When the Reds came in, old Montera rounded up nineteen of the most prominent politicos-all he could catch on short notice, an' crammed 'em in the cuartel down yonder. Little place—about

Bluejacket ashore.