t didn't kill
anybody. Around came the _Svend Foyn_.

"Her water-line!" I yelled, and we let her have it. And again we gave it
to her. They both went home.

Red Dick quit laughing. He ran down from the bridge and out of sight
below. Pretty soon, through her sides, as we hear him and his gang
yelling, came the ends of blankets and mattresses, to keep the sea out
of the holes we'd made.

And while they are at that we give them another. And that settled it.
Five minutes before, I had an idea we might have to go to the
bottom--s-sst! like that. And now Red Dick and his cargo steamer were
belting through the tide rips toward the Terra del Fuego shore, to find
a bay, I suppose, and a bit of a beach to haul up and patch things. And
I couldn't help thinking as he went that he'd lost a desperate
reputation about as easy as any ever I heard of; but I might as well
also say now that I'd been shipmates with Red Dick, and I always did
believe he was a good deal of a bluff. But my crew didn't think that.
There was great rejoicing among them, and I let them rejoice so long as
they didn't stop setting things to rights.

We were shook up some--our bridge loosened up, our wireless hoops
hanging droopy, our two fake smoke-stacks lying over on their sides, and
the for'ard turret with some dents in it; but bow first, and in peace
and quiet, we steamed on. And we were still steaming in peace and quiet
when we made Punta Arenas.

And, steaming in, I thought I might as well do it in style. Here we
were, a victorious battle-ship entering a foreign port, and so I hoisted
our international code--spelling it out that we were the _Cape Horn_ of
the Terra del Fuegan navy, and asking permission to anchor. The captain
of the American battle-ship was standing on his bridge as we steamed
down the line, with a man in our chains heaving the lead, my mate on the
fore-bridge and myself on the after-bridge, a quartermaster to the
wheel, and the second mate spying, busy as could be, through a long
glass; and not alone the captain, but the nine hundred and odd officers
and men of the American battle-ship roared in review of us. The other
ships in port didn't know what to make of it no way.

We came around and dropped our young anchor, splash! and saluted the
port--twenty-one guns from our bomb-lance things.

Our lieutenant of the hunting party seemed to be officer of the deck on
the real battle-ship. "How'd you come out?" he hails.

"We met the enemy