A throng of these gathered about the camp-fire of Rollo Van Kyp's mess, and, unmindful of the showers that fell at short intervals, listened for hours with breathless interest and undisguised envy to the story of his recent adventures.

They were happily reassured by his description of the strength of Santiago's fortifications, and his assertion that the Spaniards would put up a good fight before surrendering them; for they had been inclined to think and speak contemptuously of the enemy who they feared would yield without a struggle.
So the greater part of the night was passed.

They ought to have been asleep, storing up strength against the morrow; but who could sleep amid the uproar and excitement of that first night at Siboney?
Not the Rough Riders, at any rate.

Half a dozen transports had come into the little bay; and from them scores of boat-loads of troops and supplies were being landed through the roaring surf on the open beach.

A thousand naked figures, screaming, ducking, and splashing one another like so many schoolboys on a frolic, assisted and impeded the landing of their comrades, who, crowded into pontoons and small boats, were pitched, howling with delight, from the crest of each in-rolling breaker.