On dashed the Wright five hundred—and that Hannibal was there, Jerry well recalled. They slackened—an officer ran forward (he was Captain Mason, of the engineers, who guided with Lieutenant Foster)—he ran back, beckoning as if he had seen nothing beyond the lines of cactus which screened the trenches; the column hastened again, was almost there when from a few yards the whole fringing cactus spumed flame and smoke and a great gush of grape and musket ball mowed the ranks down like ninepins.
But they didn't stop. No, no! The ranks closed, with bayonets leveled they plunged straight forward into the cactus and over the embankments and into the trenches. The Mexican infantry and artillery were diving right and left for shelter in the Casa-Mata and the mill.
"Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!"
Now for the First Brigade and the seizure of the mill! But look! A tremendous gunfire had belched from the roof and the walls of the mill, directed into the main trench; and a column of Mexican infantry, numbering one thousand, had charged in counterattack from the rear ground.
Out came the Wright fragments, driven back and back and back, and lessening rapidly. There looked to be scarcely any officers left. Major Wright and both the engineers were down.
Huzzah, though! The Light Battalion and the Eleventh Regulars of General Cadwalader had been launched by General Worth to the rescue—
"Column, forward—trail arms—center guide—double time—march!"
