"Old Steele growled out that we hadn't time to stop, and shouted down the engine-room tube to Erskine to pile on the coal, as concealment was no longer any use. Our friend, which we afterwards found out was the _Niphon_, opened fire as fast as she could and sheered close into us, so close that her boarders were called away twice, and a slanging match went on between us, like that sometimes to be heard between two penny steamboat captains on the Thames. She closed the dispute by shooting away our foremast, exploding a shell in our bunkers, and, when we began to leave her astern, by treating us to grape and canister. It was a miracle that no one was killed, but the crew were all lying flat on the deck, except the steersman; and at one time I fear he did the same, for as Pilot Burroughs suddenly cried, 'My God, Mr. Taylor, look there!' I saw our boat heading right into the surf, so, jumping from the bridge, I ran aft and found the helmsman on his stomach. I rushed at the wheel and got two or three spokes out of it, which hauled her head off land, but it was a close shave. "Two miles farther we picked up another cruiser, which tried to treat us in a similar manner, but as we had plenty of steam we soon left her. A little farther we came across a large side-wheel boat, which tried to run us down, missing us only by a few yards; after that we were unmolested and arrived in safe, warmly congratulated by Lamb, who thought from the violent cannonade that we must certainly be sunk. "Not more than one man out of a hundred would have brought a boat through as Steele did that night--the other ninety-nine would have run her ashore." The "Venus." The official report of Lieutenant Lamson, U.S. steamer _Nansemond_, off New Inlet, October 21, 1863, says, "I have the honor to report the capture and entire destruction of the blockade runner _Venus_, from Nassau to Wilmington with a cargo of lead, drugs, dry goods, bacon, and coffee.