The battle had but fairly begun, and the _Brooklyn_ and the _Maria Teresa_ were having it "hot and heavy," when suddenly the bow of the _Vizcaya_ began to turn swiftly. At once a cry rang out. "That ship is going to ram the _Brooklyn_! See, she is turning full toward her!" The warning proved true. The _Vizcaya_ was turned fairly and squarely for Commodore Schley's flagship. Bells were ringing on board of her for "Full speed ahead." On and on she came, like a demon of the deep, in one wild, terrible effort to ram the vessel Walter was on and sink her! CHAPTER XXIX THE DESTRUCTION OF THE SPANISH FLEET "We are lost!" "That ship will cut us in half!" "Give her a broadside, boys, before we go down!" These and a hundred other cries rang out, as the _Vizcaya_ came leaping over the waves on her awful mission of death and destruction. Then gun after gun roared out, sending shot and shell on the enemy's deck. If this was their last hour on earth, these brave jackies were going to make the most of it. But commodore, captain, and executive officer were all on the alert and were not to be caught napping. As the _Vizcaya_ came on, the necessary orders were given, and the _Brooklyn_ began to turn in a twelve-point circle to starboard. Like a flash she swept past the warship dashing on to destroy her, and then the command rang out, "Give her another broadside!" And the port guns, twenty in number, vomited out their death-dealing shots and shells, raking the Spanish deck from end to end, and killing and wounding a great number of sailors and officers. To this awful fire was added that from the _Oregon_, which now came up to assist the flagship. Realizing that the plan to ram the _Brooklyn_ was a failure, the _Vizcaya_ started westward once more. It was now high time to turn attention to the two torpedo-boat destroyers, _Pluton_ and _Furor_, that were coming out of the harbor at a speed of twenty knots per hour. Once these destroyers gained the open sea, to catch them would be impossible. Like long, steel arrows glistening in the sunlight, they darted through the greenish waves and for a moment hid themselves behind their big sisters. Then on came the _Gloucester_, a converted yacht, commanded by Lieutenant Wainwright. Wainwright had been executive officer of the _Maine_ when she was blown up in Havana Harbor, and had vowed more than once to sink something if only he were given a chance. Like an avenging angel the _Gloucester_, but lightly armed, bore down upon the torpedo boats and sent shot after shot into them. Then the destroyers began to turn, as if to sink the little enemy who dared to molest them, but now it was too late,--the big warships were coming to the _Gloucester's_ aid.