might be struck.

[Illustration: ANOTHER IS FORCED TO STRIKE THE WHITE FLAG.]

The enemy suddenly begins to retreat, leaving two of his ships on the
rocks, while another is forced to strike the white flag.

Night has come on. The sun has an hour ago gone below the western
horizon. The evening fog-bank comes in and mingles with the battle smoke
about the silent batteries, which only a short time before were the
scene of bloodshed and war. The brave defenders may sleep in peace in
their blankets and hammocks. The pride of the enemy has been humbled,
and the beautiful city of San Francisco is safe from torch and shell.

SHARK-CATCHING IN MID-OCEAN.

BY A. J. KENEALY.

The _Rajah_ made good progress south, the northeast trades blowing her
thither swiftly. We were fast approaching the belt of calms, squalls,
rain, and variable winds known to sailors as the "doldrums."

The skipper had four coops of fat ducks which he tended with loving
care. He just doted on them stuffed with sage and onions, and while they
were being roasted he used to hang about the galley enjoying the savory
odors that escaped from the oven. One morning while it was raining as
though the gates of heaven had been opened wide the Captain thought he
would give his pets a treat. The ship was heeling over considerably,
being close-hauled on the starboard tack, with all her flying kites
dowsed to the puffy breeze. He ordered the lee scuppers to be plugged
up, and as soon as a sufficiently large pool had collected on deck, he
liberated the ducks so that they might enjoy the luxury of a fresh-water
bath. The ducks were delighted, and demonstrated their joy by noisy
quacks. The pigs in the pens forward responded with joyous squeaks. The
cocks and hens in the long-boat joined in with a merry chorus of crows
and cackles. The combined music was that of a barn-yard.

[Illustration: AWAY WENT A DOZEN OF THE DUCKS INTO THE SEA.]

The ship heeled over until the scuppers were awash. The weight of all
the fresh water on deck as the ship inclined to the squall and rose on
the next wave was thrown against a lee port aft near which the ducks
were disporting themselves. Now it happened that the lashing of this
port was only of spun-yarn, rotten at that. The wash of the water
against the port parted the lashing, swung the port wide open, and away
went a dozen of the ducks into the sea with a great whir of wings and
clamorous cackling.

One of the sailors clo