it seemed so loud, it fairly echoed against the mountains back of the city.
"Boom, boom-m-m!"
A flare of flame and a great shock in the air took one's breath.
"Steady, men!" Lieutenant Grant and other officers were warning.
Huger's siege guns had opened; and how they bellowed, blasting the still air so that the city crashed and the mountains rumbled.
"Boom! Boom!" The solid shot might be heard smashing through the stone walls of the old mill five hundred yards before. Up on Chapultepec the bugles and drums had ceased, as if frightened. The mill did not reply. General Worth and staff, back of the storming column, could be seen watching the effect of the bombardment; from the mill dust was rising into the dawn.
"Column—attention!"
The First Brigade had been craning anxiously; the men scrambled to their feet at the command. An aide from General Worth had galloped to the battery; it stopped firing, and—huzzah!—the Wright column was rushing forward at the double, down the slope, for the bottom and the breastworks connecting the mill and the Casa-Mata.
That was a stirring sight to witness: this little column of blue-jacketed, round-capped soldiers charging, guns at the ready, their officers leading, and the colors streaming overhead in the fore. Everybody cheered—waved caps and hands; the cheering spread from the First Brigade clear to the farthest left.
