Suddenly the illusion vanished. The monster three hundred feet long, changed to an old coal-barge. The chimneys became two timbers, the flagstaff a small stick of firewood. The fog, the currents of air, had produced the transformation. We had a hearty laugh over our preparations for an encounter with the enemy in our rear. It was an enemy more quickly disposed of than the one in front. The Rebels in the upper battery waved a white flag. The firing ceased. Commodore Foote sent Lieutenant Bishop down with a tug and a white flag flying, to see what it meant. He approached the battery. "Are we to understand that you wish to communicate with us?" he asked. "No, sir," said an officer wearing a gold-laced coat. "Then why do you display a white flag?" "It is a mistake, sir. It is a signal-flag. I regret that it has deceived you." "Good morning, sir." "Good morning, sir." The tug steams back to the Benton, the white flag is taken down, and the uproar begins again. Lieutenant Bishop made good use of his eyes. There were seven thirty-two-pounders and one heavy rifled gun in the upper battery. Commodore Foote was not ready to begin the bombardment in earnest till Monday noon, March 17th. The Benton, Cincinnati, and St. Louis dropped down stream, side by side, and came into position about a mile from the upper batteries. Anchors were dropped from the stern of each gunboat, that they might fight head on, using their heavy rifled guns. Their position was on the east side of the river. The Mound City and Carondelet took position near the west bank, just below the mortars. The boats were thus placed to bring a cross fire upon the upper Rebel battery. "Pay no attention to the island, but direct your fire into the upper battery!" is the order.