air to be out of range of the enemy's fire may some day prove itself
to be of use and value. But a balloon on the advance line, and only
fifty feet above the tops of the trees, was merely an invitation to
the enemy to kill everything beneath it. And the enemy responded to
the invitation. A Spaniard might question if he could hit a man, or
a number of men, hidden in the bushes, but had no doubt at all as to
his ability to hit a mammoth glistening ball only six hundred yards
distant, and so all the trenches fired at it at once, and the men of
the First and Tenth, packed together directly behind it, received the
full force of the bullets. The men lying directly below it received
the shrapnel which was timed to hit it, and which at last,
fortunately, did hit it. This was endured for an hour, an hour of
such hell of fire and heat, that the heat in itself, had there been
no bullets, would have been remembered for its cruelty. Men gasped
on their backs, like fishes in the bottom of a boat, their heads
burning inside and out, their limbs too heavy to move. They had been
rushed here and rushed there wet with sweat and wet with fording the
streams, under a sun that would have made moving a fan an effort, and
they lay prostrate, gasping at the hot air, with faces aflame, and
their tongues sticking out, and their eyes rolling. All through this
the volleys from the rifle-pits sputtered and rattled, and the
bullets sang continuously like the wind through the rigging in a
gale, shrapnel whined and broke, and still no order came from General
Shafter.

Captain Howse, of General Sumner's staff, rode down the trail to
learn what had delayed the First and Tenth, and was hailed by Colonel
Derby, who was just descending from the shattered balloon.

"I saw men up there on those hills," Colonel Derby shouted; "they are