could they hold them until the
arrival of their artillery? This was the question anxiously discussed
at headquarters, where several of the Generals declared immediate
retreat to be the only present salvation of the American army. The
existing fortifications of San Juan Heights were unavailable for use
against the Spaniards, and it did not seem possible that the tired
troops could dig new ones in time. The enemy had as yet suffered but
slight losses, and still occupied his inner line of forts,
block-houses, and rifle-pits, nearly, if not quite, as strong as those
just won from him. Beyond lay Santiago, with barricaded streets,
loop-holed walls, and everywhere bewildering mazes of barbed wire.

While the commanding officers discussed the situation, arguing hotly
for and against retreat, their men dug trenches along the farther crest
of the San Juan hills. All night long they worked by the light of a
full moon, excavating the gravelly soil with bayonet and meat-tin,
filling hundreds of bags with sand, and laying them in front of the
shallow pits, with little spaces between them, through which
rifle-barrels might be thrust. At the same time they scooped out
terraces on the slope up which they had charged, and there pitched
their camps, a long way from drinking-water, but close to the
firing-line. Thus by daylight they were ready for any movement the
enemy might make. Nor were they prepared any too quickly, for with
earliest dawn the Spaniards opened a heavy fire, both artillery and
rifle, on the American position. In places the opposing lines were not
three hundred yards apart, and across this narrow space the Spanish
fire was poured with unremitting fury for fourteen consecutive hours.

The Americans only returned this fire by an occasional rifle-shot, to
show that they were still on hand, and through the interminable hours
of that blistering day they simply clung by sheer grit to the heights
they had won.

On the previous day the Americans had lost over a thousand men killed
or wounded, and during the present one-sided fight one hundred and
seven more fell victims to Spanish bullets; but the trenches had been
held, and that day's work settled forever the question of their
retention.

In the mean time Lieutenant Norris, who had miraculously escaped unhurt
from the very front of two fierce charges, was curious to know whose
sword he was carrying; and so, after San Juan Heights had been safely
won, he strolled