Thus day by day the isolated fort stood like a solitary rock, against which the angry surges of an ocean were stormfully mustering. Girdled in by an army that grew stronger every moment, its noble commander and his scarcely less heroic men, stood firmly by the flag that floated above its battlements, the only stars and stripes now visible from horizon to horizon. The God of heaven, and that small handful of men, only know the anxieties that beset them. With no means of intelligence, no certainty of support, if an emergency arose demanding an assumption of prompt responsibility, with nothing but gloom landward or seaward, Anderson and his little forces stood at bay. Every hour, every moment, restricted their privileges and consumed their stores; they began to look forward to a lack of food, and many an anxious eye was turned toward the ocean, in a wistful search after the succor that did not come. The government in Washington was painfully aware of the peril which hung over these brave men. Still, some hope of an amicable adjustment lingered, and President Buchanan hesitated in taking measures that might inaugurate a civil war. But his obligations to these suffering men were imperative. The heroic band, so faithful to their trust, so true to their national honor, must not be left to starve or fall for lack of food and re-enforcements. On the 5th of January the Star of the West set sail from New York, laden with stores, ammunition, and two hundred and fifty men. Fort Sumter was at length to be relieved. But the North abounded with secession sympathizers, and in a few hours after the steamer sailed, the people of Charleston were informed of her destination by telegraph. Preparations were promptly made for her reception. Captain McGowan had intended to enter Charleston harbor at night, hoping to veil himself in darkness, and reach Fort Sumter undiscovered. But the buoys, sights and ranges had been removed, and, thus baffled, he was compelled to lie outside the harbor till daylight. At half-past 7, A. M., January 9th, the Star of the West started for the fort. A shot from Morris Island cut sharply across her bows. She run up the stars and stripes, sending that first aggressive shot a noble answer, in red, white and blue, but keeping steadily on her course. Again and again the audacious guns on Morris Island ploughed up the waters in her path, and, thus assailed, she slowly changed her course, and left the besieged fort without succor.