Ned felt a sharp pain in his leg and put down his hand. It came away red and sticky. A flying splinter had struck him. Anxiously he gazed about him. His companions lay as they had been flung. But an instant later they began scrambling to their feet. “W-what happened?” gasped Ned. “A shell burst in our faces almost--and look!” Stanley’s voice broke off in a joyous yell. The oaken door, riven and splintered by the projectile, hung saggingly on one hinge. A child could have pushed it open. “I’d give six months’ pay to the fellow who aimed that gun!” cried Stanley, as the Americans charged in a body on the tottering portal. It was swept aside with a crash, and out they poured into the street. Their guards had long since fled. The only visible inhabitants about were the pigs. Here and there these horrible creatures were nosing huddled forms, which the boys realized with a chill were those of victims of the bombardment. It was the first glimpse of war at close quarters for Ned and Herc. They felt rather sickened. But it was no time for indulging in such thoughts. All about them shells were bursting. More screamed past overhead. The air was filled with choking dust and acrid powder fumes. Suddenly a sullen sound of firing sounded off to the right and below them. It was quite near at hand. “The shore batteries!” cried Stanley. “Come on, we’ve got no time to lose.” “Where can we go?” exclaimed Midshipman Stark. “If we go toward Boca del Sierras we’ll run right into the arms of the insurgents.” “We’ll head for the shore!” exclaimed Stanley. “Come on.” Suiting the action to the word, he started off, followed by the others. What a sight they presented! How different from the trim man-of-war’s men of every-day life! With faces grimed where dirt had rubbed into sweat, their clothes half in ribbons, cut and bleeding from scratches received when the providential shell burst, they looked more like savage combatants in a desperate fight for life than American sailors. As they ran the disastrous effects of the bombardment were everywhere apparent. Houses which a short time before had been occupied,--gaped like open dolls’ houses, exposing to view the contents of every floor. Natives, some of them wounded and bleeding, staggered about under loads of cherished household goods. Once they passed a man half frenzied from fright, dashing aimlessly about with a parrot in a cage. More pathetic were the groups of women and children deserted by their cowardly men folk. These cowered in the shadow of the shell-riven buildings, in imminent danger of having the tottering structures collapse on them. More than one of these latter groups the Americans found time to warn of their danger. But it was a hurried dash, with little time for acts of mercy or kindness. Curiously enough, above all other sounds, the squealing of the town pigs predominated. The creatures, frenzied by the confusion and noise, dashed about open-mouthed. They looked as dangerous as wild boars.