Shoreward, inside the harbour, could be seen a long line of black smoke. On board the fleet religious services were being held, but the lookouts of every ship were at their stations. Suddenly, at about half past nine, a dark hull was seen coming out past the point of the harbour, and instantly all was seemingly confusion on the big fighting machines. “The enemy is escaping,” was the signal run up on Commodore Schley’s flag-ship, and within a few seconds the roar of a 6-pounder on the _Iowa_ broke the stillness of the Sabbath morning. It was as if every American vessel was put in motion at the same instant, and even as the flag-ship’s signal appeared, the clouds of dense smoke from their stacks told that the men in the furnace-rooms had already begun their portion of the task so unexpectedly set for all the fleet. John R. Spear, author of “The History of our Navy,” who was with Sampson’s fleet, wrote this complete story of the marvellous naval battle off Santiago and along the southern shore of Cuba, for the _World_: “The enemy was first seen at 9.30, and at 9.32 the men of the American batteries were standing erect and silent beside their loaded guns, waiting for the order to commence firing, and watching out of the corners of their eyes the boys who were still sprinkling the decks with sand that no one’s foot might slip when blood began to flow across the planks. “But though silence prevailed among the guns, down in the sealed stoke-hole the click and ring of the shovels that sprayed the coal over the glowing grate-bars, the song of the fans that raised the air pressure, and the throb of pump and engine made music for the whole crew, for the steam-gauges were climbing, and the engineers were standing by the wide-open throttles as the ships were driven straight at the enemy. “For, as it happened, the _Texas_ had been lying directly off the harbour, and a little more than two miles away the _Iowa_ was but a few lengths farther out and to the westward, while Capt. Jack Philip of the one, and ‘Fighting Bob’ Evans of the other, were both on deck when the cry was raised announcing the enemy. Hastening to their bridges, they headed away at once for the Spaniards, while the _Oregon_ and the _Brooklyn_ went flying to westward to intercept the leader. “The mightiest race known to the history of the world, and the most thrilling, was begun. “They were all away in less time than it has taken the reader to get thus far in the story, and in much less time still,—indeed, before the gongs in the engine-rooms of the Yankee ships had ceased to vibrate under the imperative order of ‘Ahead, full speed!’—the _Almirante Oquendo_, fugitive as she was, had opened the battle. With impetuous haste, and while yet more than two miles away, the Spaniard pointed one of his long 11-inch hontoria rifles in the direction of the _Texas_ and pulled the lanyard. The shell came shrieking out to sea, but to sea only. [Illustration: CAPTAIN R. D. EVANS.]