And so passed another Sunday. Though we might not have a religious service we were certainly cleanly, and, therefore, at the worst, not far from godly. Nothing of interest occurred until early Monday morning. Several minutes before "mess gear" was due, a lookout at the masthead reported smoke in sight off the starboard bow. The engine room was signalled for full steam, and the "Yankee" sped away in chase. "It's our day for scrapping," said "Stump." "We've had more fighting on Monday than on any other day of the week. I wonder if it's a Spanish cruiser?" "It is heading for Trinidad, whatever it is," remarked "Hay." "Do you see that sloping hill just ahead? It marks the entrance to the little port of Trinidad. If I am not mistaken we'll find a gunboat or two in the harbor." [Illustration: "THE FUSILLADE WAS LIVELY"] "Hay" proved to be a prophet. An hour later, on rounding a point of land, we came upon a small, armed launch steaming about near an old-time roofed-in gunboat which was riding at anchor in the harbor. As soon as we hove in sight the gunboat and launch opened fire. It was at long range, however, and the projectiles merely stirred up the water a mile away. As the "Yankee's" guns replied, a two-masted steamer made her appearance from within the harbor and vanished behind the keys. The fusillade was lively, we firing fully one hundred rounds, but there was little damage done. After a time, the launch retreated, and we went outside for the night. "It's the last of that scrap," remarked Tommy, the boatswain's mate, as he piped down. "We haven't any time to devote to such small fry." CHAPTER XVI. "REMEMBER THE FISH." The following morning, after "all hands," the "Yankee" started westward along the coast. Cienfuegos was passed, and presently the cruiser was taken nearer shore. The lookouts were told to keep watch for horsemen riding near the beach. This order aroused our flagging interest, and the majority of men on board maintained a careful scrutiny of the white strip of land just beyond the breakers. It was not until noon, however, that our search was rewarded. It was just after passing a deep inlet that one of the lookouts espied a group of men gathered near the water's edge. There seemed to be a number of them, and not far away could be seen a blue and white flag flying from a small staff. The engines were stopped, and a boat officered by Lieutenant Duncan, and carrying "Hay" as interpreter, went ashore. "Hay" had spent several years in the West Indies and was thoroughly familiar with the Spanish language. As he was unique in that respect on board the ship, he often did duty as interpreter.