or a moment and gives
her a shot from her pivot gun. But the bolt falls short; and now the
race begins in earnest!

The chase had not continued long, when a heavy squall of wind and rain
came up and hid the pursuing vessel from sight; but it soon passed away,
and the Brooklyn was again descried astern, under all sail and steam,
and evidently gaining upon her little quarry. On this the Sumter was
hauled two points higher up, thus bringing the wind so far forward that
the Brooklyn was no longer able to carry sail. And now the chase in her
turn began to gain upon her huge pursuer. But she was now in salt water,
and her boilers were beginning to "prime" furiously. It was necessary to
slacken speed for a time, and as she did so the Brooklyn again recovered
her advantage. Then gradually the foaming in the Sumter's boilers
ceased, and she was again put to her speed. The utmost pressure was put
on; the propeller began to move at the rate of sixty-five revolutions a
minute, and the Brooklyn once more dropped slowly but steadily astern.
At length she gave up the chase, and at four o'clock in the afternoon,
just four hours after crossing the bar, the crew of the Sumter gave
three hearty cheers as her baffled pursuer put up her helm, and,
relinquishing the chase, turned sullenly back to her station at the
mouth of the river.

CHAPTER III.

_Beginning the cruise--The first prize the Golden Rocket--The capture
burnt--The Cuba and Machias--Cienfuegos--The Ben Dunning and Albert
Adams--Three at once: the West Wind, the Naiad, and the Louisa Kilham--A
fleet of prizes--Saluting the Confederate States' flag--At Cuba--Strict
neutrality--A prize agent--The Governor-General of Cuba--Recapture by
the United States--An accident to the commander--A gale--At Curacao--The
Dutch Governor--An ex-president in difficulties--The Abby
Bradford--Venezuela--An inhospitable port--The Joseph Maxwell--Military
v. naval--Sagacious skipper--Gulf of Bahia_.

The Sumter had now fairly commenced her gallant career. The 1st July
dawned bright and fair with, a light breeze from the south-west, and
the little vessel sped through the water at an average speed of about
eight knots an hour. All that day not a sail appeared in sight. Night
settled down in all the calm splendour of the tropic seas, and nothing
disturbed its serenity save the monotonous beating of the Sumter's
propeller as she steered a south-easterly course down the Gulf of
Mexico. The foll