niards
were streaming down the farther side of the hill. A last withering
volley crashed from the loop-holed building, and then its defenders
also took to panic-stricken flight. In another minute the flaunting
banner of Spain had been torn down, and the stars and stripes of
freedom waved proudly in its place. At the same moment, from earthwork
and rifle-pit fluttered the yellow silk flags of the cavalry and the
troop guidons; while to distant ears the news of victory was borne by
the cheer of exhausted but intensely happy men.

Many of them were for the moment incapable of further effort, but as
many more, inspired with fresh strength by success, dashed down the
opposite side of the hill in pursuit of the flying Spaniards. Among
these was Ridge Norris, waving his newly acquired sword, and yelling
that there were other hills yet to be captured. A few minutes later
these found themselves madly charging, for a second time, up a steep,
bullet-swept slope in company with other cavalrymen and long lines of
infantry. Now they were assaulting San Juan Heights, defended by the
strongest line of works outside of Santiago. The Spaniards had deemed
the position impregnable, and so it would have been to any troops on
earth save Americans or British; but the men now swarming up its
slippery front not only believed it could be taken, but that they could
take it. And they did take it, as the first hill had been taken, by
sheer pluck and dauntless determination. In vain did the Spaniards
hurl forth their deadliest fire of machine-gun and rifle. The grim
American advance was as unchecked as that of an ocean tide. Finally it
surged with a roar like that of a storm-driven breaker over the crest,
and dashed with resistless fury against the crowning fortifications.
In another minute the Spaniards were in full flight, and from the
hard-won heights of San Juan thousands of panting, cheering, jubilant
Yankee soldiers were gazing for the first time upon the city of
Santiago, which, only three miles away, lay at their feet, and
apparently at their mercy.

While the troops who had thus stormed and carried San Juan were
exulting over their almost incredible victory, word came that Lawton's
men had performed a similar feat at Caney, and after hours of
ineffective firing had finally won the forts by direct and unsupported
assault.

Thus the entire line of Santiago's outer defences, many miles in
length, had fallen to the Americans; but