Steamboats -- Juvenile fiction; United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Naval operations -- Juvenile fiction; War stories
"Now burn your roman candle, and let us get off as soon as possible,"
said Mr. Pennant. "Bowman, help this man to a seat in the stern sheets;"
and he assisted Uncle Job to get in himself.
The men passed him along over the thwarts, and seated him in the stern.
Vincent burned the red candle himself, and it cast a fiery glare over
the scene, which must have astonished the occupants of the fort if they
saw it. As soon as it had burned out, the quartermaster leaped over the
stem of the cutter, and made his way to the stern, where he jumped over
the backboard, and took his place at the tiller ropes. The cutter was
backed off the ground, and out into the deeper water.
"Up oars! Let fall!" said Mr. Pennant. "Stern, all! Give way!"
The cutter backed rapidly from the shore, and was then brought about.
The lieutenant stood up in his place, and could just distinguish the
Bronx, a mile and a half distant, in the gloom of the early morning. He
watched her a few minutes and soon saw her swing around, and head to the
south-east.
"Make the course about south, Vincent," said the officer, as soon as he
discovered that the steamer was in motion.
"South, sir," replied the quartermaster.
"Now, give way with a will, my men!" called Mr. Pennant in brisk tones,
"for we shall soon have a twenty-four pound shot chasing us out."
When the cutter was about half a mile from the shore, making it about
three-quarters of a mile from the fort, the peal of a cannon was heard,
and a puff of smoke could be seen as it rose on the clear, starred sky,
for the clouds had rolled away during the night. The shot dropped into
the water a short distance abreast of the cutter.
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Pennant; and this was the first time he had ever
been under fire, though he had imagined it enough to feel entirely at
home.
Another shot followed the first, and dropped into the water; and if it
had gone fifty feet farther, it would have struck the boat.
"Good again!" exclaimed the lieutenant. "I think that is about the range
of those guns."
A third shot fell a little nearer the cutter; but it was evident enough
that it was out of the reach of the feeble guns of the fort. The firing
continued but a few minutes longer, for it was as plain to Lieutenant
Fourchon as to Lieutenant Pennant that the shots were harmless to the
boat. The commander on shore could see by this time, if he had not
before, that a gunboat was in the offing, and that he might soon have
a better use for his powder than wasting it upon the boat.
The lieutenant had closely watched the movements of the Bronx. He had
made the signal that the fort was not very dangerous to the well-being
of the gunboat, and he understood her present movement. The light was
increasing, and the Bronx could be distinctly seen, headed to the
south-east, or in other words, making for the deep water outside the
bar. Mr. Pennant still kept the cutter headed to the south.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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