azement and wonder.
She hurled on the foe from her flame-spreading arms,
The fire-brands of death and the red bolts of thunder.
And, oh! it was glorious and strange to behold
What torrents of fire from her red mouth she threw;
And how from her broad wings and sulphurous sides,
Hot showers of grape-shot and rifle-balls flew!"

Let us now turn to Commodore John Rodgers, whose unlucky cruise at the
opening of the war we have already noted. Having refitted his squadron
in the port of New York, he set sail on a second cruise, leaving
behind him the "Hornet." Again he seemed to have fallen upon
unprofitable times, for his ships beat up and down in the highway of
commerce without sighting a single sail. After several days of
inaction, it was determined to scatter the squadron; and to this end
the frigate "United States," Commodore Decatur, and the sixteen-gun
brig "Argus," Capt. Sinclair, left the main body of ships and started
off on a cruise in company. After the two ships left the main body,
Commodore Rodgers met with better success, capturing a Jamaica packet
with two hundred thousand dollars in her hold, and chasing a British
frigate for two hours, but without overhauling her.

In the mean time, the "Argus" had parted from her consort, and was
cruising to the eastward on her own account, meeting with fair
success. During her cruise she captured six merchantmen, and was
herself chased by a British squadron. This chase was almost as
memorable as that of the "Constitution;" for the little brig was hotly
pursued for three days and nights, and, to escape her pursuers, was
obliged to cut away her boats and anchors, and part with every thing
movable save her guns. She escaped at last, however, and was for many
months thereafter a source of continual annoyance to the commerce of
the enemy.

After parting with the "Argus," the "United States" had made her
course toward the south-east, in the hopes of intercepting some of the
British West-Indiamen. But what the plucky sailors would consider
better luck fell to the lot of the frigate.

At dawn on a bright Sunday morning, the lookout of the "United States"
descried a sail about twelve miles away, on the weather-beam. Sail was
crowded on the American frigate, and, urged along by a rattling
breeze, she made towards the stranger. As the distance between the
ships lessened, and the rigging of the stranger showed her to be a
frig