From the 2d of February to the 12th we had favorable winds, and for three or four days our speed had averaged ten or eleven knots an hour. At noon of that day, when in latitude 24° 1′ north and longitude 65° 58′ west, our captain and officers observed a sail in our wake, which gradually gained upon us, until it could be plainly seen that she was a steamer. At this time the wind had lulled, and we were only making eight knots an hour; so that about three o’clock in the afternoon the strange sail was distant from us perhaps six miles, and following directly astern, with the “stars and stripes” run up on her foremast. We had not thought of being molested by southern pirates,[42] but hoped she might prove to be a gunboat of our Government; and being nearly famished, after a five months’ fast, for news from home, were happy in the prospect of hearing how it fared with our country. A little before four o’clock I went to the quarter-deck, and seated myself on the starboard side, not far back of the stern. She was then directly in our track, and evidently making for us with much speed, having every stitch of canvas out, even to her studding-sails, and her steam power in full operation. Soon after this an order was given to unfurl our flag at the peak, and I observed that our captain, who was constantly using his glass, and watching the approaching vessel, seemed a little nervous and ill at ease. Indeed, doubt had already begun to settle upon us all, for the steamer was gaining upon us at the rate of three miles an hour, and her appearance, to say the least, did not bode us any good. We were making all the sail we could, and had the wind which had favored us the day previous continued, we could have kept out of the range of her guns until evening, and then probably have been able to elude her. But it was otherwise decreed, and down she came upon us, firing a shot when about three miles distant, which struck the water a ship’s length and a half astern of the _Bell_, on the port side. That shot was potential, carrying conviction to all that our vessel was doomed, and that we were about to fall into the hands of an enemy. It required but little reflection to make us painfully conscious of the fact, the whole truth of which flashed upon us as suddenly and unexpectedly as the booming of the distant gun which seemed to announce our doom; in an instant, as it were, paralyzing all thought and feeling. Directly on the firing of the gun Captain Frisbie rose up, and turning his face towards the bow, looked first at his ship and then at the sail, saying,--“Well, I guess you’ll heave to, now!” and ordering his men to “clew up the crotchet sail,” and back the yards, we quietly waited for the decision of our fate.