During the afternoon, an American three-masted schooner, which afterward proved to be the Chieftain, was seen standing from the eastward toward us. No notice was taken of her at first, but when she was within about half a mile of the Agamemnon, she altered her course and bore right down across our bows. A collision which might prove fatal to the cable now seemed inevitable; or could only be avoided by the equally hazardous expedient of altering the Agamemnon's course. The Valorous steamed ahead and fired a gun for her to heave to, which as she did not appear to take much notice of, was quickly followed by another from the bows of the Agamemnon, and a second and third from the Valorous. But still the vessel held on her course; and, as the only resource left to avoid a collision, the course of the Agamemnon was altered just in time to pass within a few yards of her. It was evident that our proceedings were a source of the greatest possible astonishment to them, for all her crew crowded upon her deck and rigging. At length they evidently discovered who we were and what we were doing, for the crew manned the rigging, and, dipping the ensign several times, they gave us three hearty cheers. Though the Agamemnon was obliged to acknowledge these congratulations in due form, the feeling of annoyance with which we regarded the vessel--which (either by the stupidity or carelessness of those on board) was so near adding a fatal and unexpected mishap to the long chapter of accidents which had already been encountered--may easily be imagined. To those below--who, of course, did not see the ship approaching--the sound of the first gun came like a thunderbolt, for all took it as a signal of the breaking of the cable. The dinner-tables were deserted in a moment, and a general rush made up the hatches to the deck; but before reaching it their fears were quickly banished by the report of the succeeding gun, which all knew well could only be caused by a ship in our way or a man overboard. Throughout the greater part of Monday morning the electrical signals from the Niagara had been getting gradually weaker, until they ceased altogether for nearly three-quarters of an hour. Then Professor Thomson sent a message to the effect that the signals were too weak to be read; and, in a little while, the deflections returned even stronger than they had ever been before. Toward the evening, however, they again declined in force for a few minutes.[37]