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IV

A BIRD-LIKE whistle stirred the decks of the Chancellorville. It was followed by the hoarse bellowings of the boatswain's mate. As the cruiser turned her bow toward the shore, she happened to steam near the Adolphus. The usual calm voice hailed the despatch-boat. "Keep—that—gauze undershirt of yours—well—out of the—line of fire."

"Ay, ay, sir!"

The cruiser then moved slowly toward the shore, watched by every eye in the smaller American vessels. She was deliberate and steady, and this was reasonable, even to the impatience of the other craft, because the wooded shore was likely to suddenly develop new factors. Slowly she swung to starboard, smoke belched over her, and the roar of a gun came along the water.

The battery was indicated by a long, thin streak of yellow earth. The first shot went high, ploughing the chaparral on the hillside. The Chancellorville wore an air for a moment of being deep in meditation. She flung another shell, which landed squarely on the earth-work, making a great dun cloud. Before the smoke had settled, there was a crimson flash from the battery. To the watchers at sea, it was smaller than a needle. The shot made a geyser of crystal water, four hundred yards from the Chancellorville.

The cruiser, having made up her mind, suddenly went at the battery hammer and tongs. She moved to and fro casually, but the thunder of her guns was gruff and angry. Sometimes she was quite hidden in her own smoke, but with exceeding regularity the earth of the battery spurted into the air. The Spanish shells for the most part went high and wide of the cruiser, jetting the water far away.

Once a Spanish gunner took a festive side-show chance at the waiting group of the three ships. It went like a flash over the Adolphus, singing a wistful, metallic note. Whereupon the Adolphus broke hurriedly for the open sea, and men on the Holy Moses and the Chicken laughed hoarsely and cruelly. The correspondents had been standing excitedly on top of the pilot-house, but at the passing of the shell they promptly eliminated themselves by dropping with a thud to the deck below. The cook again was giving tongue. "Oh, say, this won't do! Oh, this ain't no good! We ain't no armored cruiser, you know. If one of them shells hits us—well, we finish right there. 'Tain't like as if it was our business, foolin' round within the range of them guns. There's no sense in it. Them other fellows don't seem to mind it, but it's their business. If it's your business, you go ahead and do it; but if it ain't, you—look at that, would you?"

The Chancellorville had set up a spread of flags, and the Holy Moses and the Chicken were steaming in.