IN Paco town and in Paco tower, | |
| At the height of the tropic noonday hour, | |
| Some Tagal riflemen, half a score, | |
| Watched the length of the highway o’er, | |
| And when to the front the troopers spurred. | 5 |
| Whiz-z! whiz-z! how the Mausers whirred! | |
| |
| From the opposite walls, through crevice and crack, | |
| Volley on volley went ringing back | |
| Where a band of regulars tried to drive | |
| The stinging rebels out of their hive; | 10 |
| “Wait till our cannon come, and then,” | |
| Cried a captain, striding among his men, | |
| “We’ll settle that bothersome buzz and drone | |
| With a merry little tune of our own!” | |
| |
| The sweltering breezes seemed to swoon, | 15 |
| And down the calle the thickening flames | |
| Licked the roofs in the tropic noon. | |
| Then through the crackle and glare and heat, | |
| And the smoke and the answering acclaims | |
| Of the rifles, far up the village street | 20 |
| Was heard the clatter of horses’ feet, | |
| And a band of signal-men swung in sight, | |
| Hasting back from the ebbing fight | |
| That had swept away to the left and right. | |
| |
| “Ride!” yelled the regulars, all aghast, | 25 |
| And over the heads of the signal-men, | |
| As they whirled in desperate gallop past, | |
| The bullets a vicious music made, | |
| Like the whistle and whine of the midnight blast | |
| On the weltering wastes of the ocean when | 30 |
| The breast of the deep is scourged and flayed. | |
| |
| It chanced in the line of the fiercest fire | |
| A rebel bullet had clipped the wire | |
| That led, from the front and the fighting, down | |
| To those that stayed in Manilla town; | 35 |
| This gap arrested the watchful eye | |
| Of one of the signal-men galloping by, | |
| And straightway, out of the plunge and press, | |
| He reined his horse with a swift caress | |
| And a word in the ear of the rushing steed; | 40 |
| Then back with never a halt nor heed | |
| Of the swarming bullets he rode, his goal | |
| The parted wire and the slender pole | |
| That stood where the deadly tower looked down | |
| On the rack and ruin of Paco town. | 45 |
| |
| Out of his saddle he sprang as gay | |
| As a schoolboy taking a holiday; | |
| Wire in hand up the pole he went | |
| With never a glance at the tower, intent | |
| Only on that which he saw appear | 50 |
| As the line of his duty plain and clear. | |
| To the very crest he climbed, and there, | |
| While the bullets buzzed in the scorching air, | |
| Clipped his clothing, and scored and stung | |
| The slender pole-top to which he clung, | 55 |
| Made the wire that was severed sound, | |
| Slipped in his careless way to the ground, | |
| Sprang to the back of his horse, and then | |
| Was off, this bravest of signal-men. | |
| |
| Cheers for the hero! While such as he, | 60 |
| Heedless alike of wounds and scars, | |
| Fight for the dear old Stripes and Stars, | |
| Down through the years to us shall be | |
| Ever and ever the victory! | |
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