At dark, all hands on the flag-ship were startled by the report of a gun, and on reaching the hurricane deck they saw a large brig drifting rapidly on to the bar. As it grew darker, and her outline became less defined, the excitement became intense. She was evidently in a most critical position, and every moment might be her last. Slowly the black hull rose and fell, each time gliding nearer and nearer to the vortex of white breakers, which, once reached, nothing could save her. Suddenly a fringe of musketry fire surrounded her bulwarks, and blue-lights were burnt in her tops. Volley after volley succeeded each other in rapid succession, yet apparently no one could help her; no human power dared face the tempest, and, perhaps, share her doom. General Burnside boarded every steamtug in the harbor; offered any reward, and also to go himself in aid of the brig, but all held back. Were three hundred men to be launched into eternity, and no effort made to save them? At last one brave seaman volunteered to take his little steamer out—General Burnside jumped aboard her—but by the earnest entreaties of the officers he delegated the honorable position to one of his staff, for his heroic conduct had nerved every brave heart in his command. BURNSIDE’S FLEET AT HATTERAS INLET. From the 13th of January until the 4th of February, the fleet at Hatteras Inlet experienced an almost uninterrupted series of gales, and the two dykes which reach the east and west boundaries of the inlet, were fringed with perpetual spray and foam from the breakers. The lighter vessels, comprising the propeller gunboats, the side-wheel steamers, and most of the schooner transports, had gone safely through the “Swash,” and were securely anchored some two miles from the throat of the inlet, while the larger ships and barks were still riding outside, with colors continually flying for a pilot. Many of these vessels were crowded with men suffering for the want of necessary supplies, especially water, and the largest of the transports had a draught of from two to four feet more than the specifications of the guarantee should have allowed. The consequence was, that they grounded in attempting the passage. An occasional cessation of a few hours in the storm afforded opportunity that could be taken advantage of by vessels to try the dangerous passage, aided by the tugs, that responded but shyly to the signals for aid. And thus for days the severity of the gale defied all communication between the vessels outside of the bar, as they battled with a fiercer foe than that upon the land—fighting a very hand-to-hand fight with storm and ocean.