More cannon, more machine-guns, more ammunition-carts rushed up in mad
haste; the batteries kept up a continual fire.

The battle moved on farther to the front. The houses of Hilgard were all
in flames; only the white top of the church-tower still projected above
the ruins. On the right of the town one column after another marched
past to the strains of regimental music.

An orderly galloped past, and some one called out to him: "How are
things in front?" "Fine, fine, we're winning!" came the answer, which
was greeted with jubilant cheers. Gradually the enemy's shots became
scarcer as the battle advanced up the slopes.

Engineers were hard at work getting the streets of Hilgard cleared so as
to save the troops the detour round the outside of the town. The burning
houses were blown up with dynamite, and a temporary hospital was
established near the city, to which the wounded were brought from all
parts of the battle-field.

By noon Hilgard was sufficiently cleared to allow the 36th Militia
Regiment (Nebraska) to pass through. On both sides of the streets were
smoking ruins filled with dead and dying and charred remains. The steps
of the battalion sounded strangely hollow as the first company turned
into the square where the white church still stood almost intact in the
midst of the ruins. A wounded soldier was calling loudly for water.

What was that? Were the bells tolling? The soldiers involuntarily
softened their step when they heard it. Yes, the bells were tolling,
slowly at first and low, but then the peals rang out louder and louder
until a great volume of sound burst through the little windows in the
white church-spire. Ding--dong, ding--dong----

The flag-bearer of the first company lowered his flag and the soldiers
marched past in silence. The captain rode over to the entrance to the
tower and looked in. A little boy, about ten years old, was tugging and
straining at the heavy bell-ropes. There seemed to be a number of
wounded soldiers in the church, as loud groans could be heard through
the half-open door.

The captain looked about him in astonishment. Near a post he saw two
Japanese, presenting a fearful spectacle in the convulsions of death.
Close to them lay an American foot-soldier, writhing with pain from a
bayonet-wound in the abdomen; and over in the farther corner he could
distinguish a woman, dressed in black, lying on a ragged mattress.
Ding--dong, ding--dong, rang the bells up above, but t