The mess tents and cookhouses are about alike in all the arms of the service.  The “cuddy-bunk” oven, made of sheet, iron, bakes well and looks like two iron pans fastened together, one upon the top of the other.  Men detailed as cooks and waiters, or “kitchen police,” as they are denominated in the posts, attended to the preparation and serving of the meals, and the soldiers lived well, indeed.  Field rations were used when in transit from point to point, but when in camp the company or troop mess purchased fresh meats, vegetables, eggs, fruits, etc., and lived high.

Rendezvous at fort Tampa.

Twenty-eight batteries of artillery, almost the entire complement of this branch of the United States army, were in camp at Port Tampa, Fla., awaiting orders to make a descent upon the Spanish forces in Cuba.  This great gathering of artillery was the feature of the camp.  Infantry and cavalry troops were held there also, and their number increased every day, but it was in the artillery that the civilian spectators took the most interest.  This may be said without disparagement of the “dough boys” and “hostlers,” notwithstanding the fact that there were some of Uncle Sam’s most famous fighters in both lines of service stationed at Tampa, among them being the Ninth cavalry, and the Fourth, Fifth, Ninth, Thirteenth and Twenty-fourth infantry.  No cavalry regiment has a finer record than the Ninth, the “buffalo” troopers, who gave the Sioux and Apaches more fighting than they wanted, but Southern people have no use for negro soldiers, and their laudations went to the white artillerymen.

No such aggregation of light and heavy artillery has been gathered before at any one city in the United States, even in war time.

Life in camp at Tampa was much the same as at Chickaanauga, except that the weather was much hotter.  To offset this, however, the boys had fine sea bathing, good opportunities for sailing parties, and the best of fresh fish with which to leaven their rations of salt horse and hardtack.  It is astonishing how quickly a man learns to forage and cook after joining the regular army.  Three months of service will transform the greenest of counter-jumpers into an expert in the art of enticing chickens from their coops and turning them into savory stews.  One of the troopers of the Ninth cavalry was called “Chickens,” from his predilections in this line.  There were orders against foraging, of course; there always are in friendly territory, but they never amount to much.  The officers knew they were disobeyed, but they winked the other eye and said nothing.  It is hinted that in this course may be often found an explanation of the lavishness with which the officers’ mess is served.  One night Major—­was smoking a nightcap cigar just outside his tent, when he caught sight of “Chickens” stealing past in the shade of the trees.  “Chickens” of course was halted and asked why he was prowling around at that time of night.  Before the culprit could frame an excuse the Major noticed a suspicious bulging of the front of the trooper’s blouse, and an uneasy, twisting motion within.  It was plain to him that “Chickens” had been foraging, and was getting back into quarters with his plunder.