The men were driven from the guns, the flames rose higher, the water poured in through the shot holes, and there was nobody to work the pumps. All was lost, and the ship was run ashore and her flag pulled down. In very few minutes the _Oquendo_ followed the flagship ashore, both of them looking like great blazing torches. The shells from the great guns had torn her terribly, many of her crew had been killed, and those who were left had to run her ashore to keep her from going to the bottom of the sea. In half an hour, as you may see, two of the Spanish ships had been half torn to pieces and driven ashore, and only two were still afloat. These were the _Vizcaya_ and the _Cristobal Colon_. When the _Maine_ was sent to Havana, before the beginning of the war, a Spanish warship was sent to New York. This was the _Vizcaya_. She was a trim and handsome ship and her officers had a hearty welcome. It was a different sort of welcome she now got. The _Brooklyn_ and the _Oregon_ were after her and her last day had come. So hot was the fire that her men were driven from their guns and flames began to appear. Then she, too, was run ashore and her flag was hauled down. It was just an hour after the chase began and she had gone twenty miles down the coast. Now she lay blazing redly on the shallow shore and in the night she blew up. It was a terrible business, the ruin of those three fine vessels. There was one more Spanish ship, the _Cristobal Colon_. (This is the Spanish for Christopher Columbus.) She was the fastest of them all, and for a time it looked as if Spain might save one of her ships. But there were bloodhounds on her track, the _Brooklyn_, six miles behind, and the _Oregon_, more than seven miles away. Swiftly onward fled the deer, and swiftly onward followed the war-hounds. Mile by mile they gained on the chase. About one o'clock, when she was four miles away, the _Oregon_ sent a huge shell whizzing from one of her great 13-inch guns. It struck the water just behind the _Colon_; but another that followed struck the water ahead. Then the _Brooklyn_ tried her eight-inch guns, and sent a shell through the _Colon's_ side, above her belt of steel. For twenty minutes this was kept up. The _Colon_ was being served like her consorts. At the end of that time her flag was pulled down and the last of the Spanish ships ran ashore. She had made a flight for life of nearly fifty miles. This, you see, is not the story of a sea-fight; it is the story of a sea-chase. Much has been said about who won the honor at Santiago, but I think any of you could tell that in a few words. It was the men who ran the engines and who aimed the guns that won the game. The commanders did nothing but run after the runaway Spaniards, and there is no great honor in that. What else was there for them to do? They could not run the other way. * * * * * Transcriber's Notes: Obvious punctuation errors repaired.