It happened that the Southern Agent in Egypt had sent a very valuable Arab horse to Nassau, as a present for Jefferson Davis. Heiliger, the Confederate Agent there, asked me if I would take it in through the blockade. I at once consented, and it was shipped on board the _Banshee_. We got through all right, but when the health officer came on board and ordered us to quarantine, I said: "If we have to go there, the horse will certainly have to be destroyed, as we have no food for it." Thereupon he telegraphed to Richmond, and the reply came back that the _Banshee_ was to proceed to the town, land the horse, and return to quarantine. When we were alongside the wharf a large number of our crew jumped on shore and disappeared. I said to the General, who was a friend of mine, "It is no use our going back to quarantine after this, you either have the infection or not," and I induced him to telegraph again to Richmond. The answer came back, "_Banshee_ must discharge and load as quickly as possible, and proceed to sea; lend all assistance." The General acted on these instructions, and upon the third day we were gaily proceeding down the river again with an outward cargo on board, passing quite a fleet of steamers at the quarantine ground, whose crews were gnashing their teeth. We got safely out and returned, after making another trip, to find the same boats in quarantine, and, as it was raised some three days after our arrival, we steamed up the river in company, much to the disgust of their crews. Good old horse, he saved me from a dreary confinement in quarantine, and made the owners of the _Banshee_ some £20,000 to £30,000 extra, but he was nearly the cause of our all being put in a Northern prison and losing our steamer. On a very still night, as we were running in and creeping noiselessly through the hostile fleet, he commenced neighing (smelling the land, I expect). In an instant two or three jackets were thrown over his head; but it was too late; he had been heard on board a cruiser very close to which we were passing, and she and two or three of her consorts immediately opened fire upon us. We had the heels of them, however, and our friend Colonel Lamb at Fort Fisher was soon protecting us, playing over our heads with shell. On a subsequent occasion disaster might have overtaken the _Banshee_ under somewhat similar circumstances had a cruiser happened to be near. A game-cock which we kept on board as a pet suddenly began to crow. But this time the disaster was to the game-cock and not to the _Banshee_, for, pet as he was, his neck was promptly twisted. Such experiences as these showed how easy it was to increase the risks of blockade-running; absence of all avoidable noise at night was as essential as the extinction of all lights on board ship. CHAPTER VIII OUR FLEET