Yes, the admiral's flag was down, and so was the mast that had held it. Would the Spanish emblem go up again? All watched anxiously, and meanwhile the _Brooklyn_ continued to pour in her hottest fire. "She's going ashore!" rang through the American flagship. "She's burning up!" and then came a heavy shot from the _Brooklyn_, another from the _Texas_, and staggering like a thing of life, the _Maria Teresa_ ran for the beach, a mass of seething and roaring flames. Admiral Cervera's doom was sealed. Five minutes later the _Oquendo_ was also cast on the shore. Four of the enemy's ships had been laid low, but the great fight was by no means over. Shot and shell were flying around the _Vizcaya_ and _Cristobal Colon_, but both warships kept on their way, the _Colon_ slowly but surely forging to the front. Both Spanish ships were returning the Americans' hot fire, and many a shot hit the _Brooklyn_ and many a shell burst over her deck. But as yet no serious damage had been inflicted. But a calamity was at hand, as rapid in its execution as it was appalling. Near the forward eight-inch turret George Ellis was standing, watching the struggle of the enemy's ships to escape. "Ellis, give us the range again!" shouted Captain Cook. "I'll have it in a moment, captain," answered the chief yeoman, and took up his stadiometer. Making his calculation, he turned to Commodore Schley, who was but a short distance away. "It is fourteen hundred yards to the _Vizcaya_, sir," he said. These were the last words he ever uttered, for an instant after there was the whistling of a shell, and those standing around were horrified to see Ellis's headless body drop to the deck below. The poor fellow had been killed instantly, in the very midst of his duties. What a shock this was to those about him I will leave my readers to imagine. Never until now had they realized what this awful war meant. "Poor Ellis, he was such a fine man!" murmured one comrade as he turned away. And then his face grew even more sober. "But he's the first on board of this ship. What of those poor Dons yonder, who are going down by the wholesale?" And though they were enemies, his heart beat in sympathy for the poor wretches who were struggling madly amid shot, shell, fire, and water for their lives. Fortunately the _Iowa_ was already coming to the succor of the defeated ones. "We're going to catch it now, lad," remarked Caleb to Walter, as he pointed through a rift in the cloud of smoke hanging over the gun. "There are two of the enemy's ships, and they are both going to pound us. Where in the world are our other vessels?" "The _Oregon_ is coming up!" came from the after-deck, a minute later. "And the _Texas_ isn't far behind."