“I think I can get along alone, after what you have said,” added Jack, who had a great deal of confidence in his own ability. “Perhaps you can, my little joker; but I don’t trust this craft out of sight when there’s a shoal ahead,” replied the pilot; and of course he could not utter a remark of this length without interlarding it with half a dozen Mississippi oaths. “Your directions are very plain, and I thought I understood them.” “But I have some pride in this business. I’ve run up and down this brook for ten years, and always had good luck. Now, if this steamer should get aground, some of your folks would call me a traitor, or some other pretty name of that sort.” “I think not, sir.” “I won’t trust ’em, little joker. If you----” The loyal philosophy which was contained in the thought Mr. Lunsley was about to utter was forever lost upon our hero; for a cannon-shot at this instant whistled through the air, unpleasantly near the wheel-house. “I know’d it!” said he, changing his tone and manner. “Knew what?” “I know’d there was a battery here.” “What did you ran us upon it for, then?” “We must go in the channel, any way, my joker. But maybe you ain’t afraid of cannon-balls?” “Not particularly; though I have a wholesome respect for them when they are properly projected,” replied Jack. Another shot followed the first, and then a third. The crew were called to quarters, and Tom Longstone returned to the wheel-house. Captain Bankhead took his station on the hurricane-deck, by the side of the pilot; and Mr. Hayswell was on the forward-deck. “Strike two bells, quartermaster,” said the captain. “Two bells, sir.” The boat stopped; for it was no part of Captain Bankhead’s plan to have his vessel knocked to pieces without an adequate compensation. By his order, the thirty-two-pounder on the forecastle was discharged in the direction from which the shot came. Old Grummet was captain of this piece; and there was not a better gunner in the navy. The old man growled all the time; but he worked with an alacrity which spoke better for his zeal and courage than his words did. After half a dozen shells had been thrown into the thicket from which the firing had proceeded, the guns of the enemy appeared to be silenced; and the Middy again proceeded on her way. She had been backed down the stream some distance; and, during the firing, the engine had worked just enough to keep her head up the river, and give her steerage-way. As she advanced, the thirty-two-pounder continued to discourse with the unseen rebels. “We are all right now, Tom!” said Jack. “Not yet, my darling. The rebel guns is short range; and, when we come up, they’ll give us some more.” “You may depend on that,” added Mr. Lunsley. “Starboard! quartermaster.” “Starboard, sir!” replied Tom. “Steady!” “Steady, sir!” “Now we catch it again!” continued the pilot. “Starboard!”