The Alabama was now south of the tropic of Capricorn and on her way to the Cape of Good Hope. Captain Semmes still hoped to find the Agrippina on the South African coast, but after spending some days on the voyage, the ship's bread was discovered to be nearly destroyed by weevil, and it became necessary to put back to Rio Janeiro for a fresh supply. On the first day of July the Alabama was again nearing the locality where she had parted from the Tuscaloosa. After overhauling no less than eleven neutral ships during the day, chase was given to the twelfth at eleven o'clock p. m. As the day broke the chase developed into a fine tall ship with tapering spars and white canvas. At the summons of a blank cartridge, she showed the United States flag, but her master refused to heave to, and was evidently determined not to permit his ship to be captured until the last resource of seamanship had failed. It was not until the cruiser had crept near enough to throw a shell screaming across her bow, that she shortened sail. The prize proved to be the Anna F. Schmidt, bound from Boston to San Francisco with a valuable assorted cargo. If she had been fitted out as a supply ship for the Alabama she could hardly have met the needs of the hour better. An abundance of bread put an end to the need of another visit to unfriendly Brazil. Trousers and shoes for the sailors, and plenty of warm underclothing, so much needed in the colder region which the cruiser was now approaching, were dug up out of the hold. The whole day was consumed in the looting. Great quantities of crockery and glassware, lamps, clocks, sewing machines, patent medicines and so on, were flung overboard in order that the needed articles might be found, and at night the match was applied to what remained. As the cruiser stood away from the blazing ship at 9 p. m. she fired a bow gun to bring to a large ship speeding northward. The stranger answered also with a gun. Aha! a man-of-war. But why this haste? Why carry royals in such a gale, unless safety depends upon it. The stranger must be a "Yankee" gun boat and one afraid to meet us, judging from the heels he shows. Or perhaps a valuable merchant ship playing man-of-war in order to deceive. So reasoned Captain Semmes, and pressed on both steam and sail to overhaul the fleeing stranger. At midnight the Alabama was near enough to hail. "What ship is that?" shouted Lieutenant Kell through his trumpet. "This is her Brittanic Majesty's ship Diomede," was the reply. And so vanished alike the captain's hope of a rich prize and the sailors' thoughts of a battle. As ships of war are not expected to obey a summons to heave to and show papers, the Diomede flew away on her course, and the Alabama shortened sail and banked her fires.