In this position they lay down, sheltering themselves as best they could behind bushes or in the tall hot grass, and anxiously awaited further orders from headquarters.

The Spanish fire, which they might not return, was ceaseless and pitiless, though because of absence of smoke none could see whence it came.
Already the loss in killed and wounded was assuming alarming proportions, and still on-coming troops were pouring into that Bloody Bend, where they must accept, with what fortitude they could command, their awful baptism of fire.

Fifty feet above their heads floated the observation balloon of the engineers, betraying their exact position and forming an admirable focus for the enemy's fire, which, after awhile, to the vast relief of every one, shot the balloon to pieces so that it dropped from sight among the trees.
For hours the troops waited thus in the frightful tropical heat, monuments of patient endurance.

The dead and the living lay side by side, though such of the wounded as could be reached were dragged back to dressing-stations on the river-banks.

Even here they were not safe, for the dense foliage that afforded a grateful shade also concealed scores of Spanish sharp-shooters.