It was upon this peculiar species of the feathered race that the batterymen fastened their attentions. Turkeys were secured, and they served as a nucleus about which all preparations centered. Several weeks prior to the gala day most elaborate arrangements were made. The soldiers gathered in knots and discussed the coming event. It had a particular interest with them as they anticipated something more palatable than the ordinary "hardtack and slum-gullion." Nor were their expectations disappointed, for, when the day came in all its glory, the commissary had proved itself equal to the occasion. All the powers of the culinary art had been brought to bear upon the leathery tendons of this turkey of the East. It had been fried and flayed until the very air of the barracks became aromatic with its savor. Even the hungry natives scented the perfumed air and gathered at the entrances to inspect the delicacies more closely. At length the tables were prepared and the ravenous warriors seated themselves. Then were the victuals attacked with vigor; the enemy brought forth all his fighting force; he assaulted the front with deadly effect; simultaneously he attacked the flank and the rear; he cut, he hacked, he slashed, he dissected and tore, until there was nothing left of his victim but the skeleton, and even this he eyed ravenously. Of course there were pies and cakes and cranberries and fruits and greens and vegetables, and they, too, suffered. Of the squash family there were not a few, the favorite pumpkin was wanting, but then the lack of it had been long since supplied by the desiccated potato, and the consumer felt no secret pangs at its absence. Thus Thanksgiving passed on and Christmas came with its bevy of holiday boxes, and its "Peace on earth good will to men;" but while the American was still thinking of the light of peace, there came the low rumbling of impending gloom; his ears were startled by the distant thunder of the voice of war; he knew it to be the opening peal of the awakening insurrection and his attention turned to the more serious matter of the imminent conflict. A more powerful enemy than his late foe menaced him from all sides. CHAPTER III. THE INSURRECTION. The report of a rifle rang down the quiet Santa Mesa hill on the night of February 4th. As the flash of the gun died away in the gloom a dusky warrior fell in death and the spark of an insurrection kindled into flame. Almost instantly the belligerent Tagalans rushed down upon the American outposts; the United States forces from Caloocan to Malate swung into line, and the sturdy Anglo-Saxon and the fiery Malay were matched in combat.