Others struck the harder portions of the cliff, bursting into a shower
of fragments, each kicking up its own pother of dirt and shattered rock.
At times a shell would land in a crack in the face of the hill, and
immediately following would come an upheaval of stones. These boulders,
many of them of immense size, would roll down the slope and splash in
the water at the base, creating a series of fountain-like cascades.

Accompanying the display was a continuous roar of explosion and
detonation that echoed and reechoed across the water like the pealing of
tropical thunder. In fact, it was these noises, mingled with the fierce
reports of our guns, which impressed us the most. Taking it all in all,
the scene was spectacular in the extreme.

"Boys," remarked No. 7 of our crew--"Morrie," we called him--"this sight
is worth all the coaling and standing watches and poor food we have had
to put up with. I would experience it all over again just to see this
bombardment."

And we heartily agreed with him.

After a time it seemed as if the admiral was determined to plump shells
into the vicinity of Santiago until there was nothing left to fire at.
There had been a continuous outpouring of projectiles from the guns of
the fleet for over an hour, yet that grim line of gray steel fortresses
still passed and repassed in front of the forts.

It was really growing monotonous, when something occurred at the gun to
which I was attached that served to give us an exciting minute or two.
"Hay" had just fired a shot which caught one of the new batteries