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.