latter, carefully examining the
yellow fleet through his glass. "Can you make out which ship the first
one is?" he asked.

"I think it's the _Iowa_," said the commander, who was standing near
him. But the wind tore the words from his lips.

"What did you say?" screamed back the admiral.

"_Iowa_," repeated Farlow.

"No such thing, the _Iowa_ is much smaller and has only one mast. The
ship over there also has an additional turret in the center."

"No, it's not the _Iowa_," corroborated the captain, "but two funnels
... what ship can it be...?"

"Those ships are painted gray, too, not white like ours. It's not the
yellow fleet at all," interrupted the admiral, "it's, it's--my God, what
is it?"

He examined the ships again and saw numerous little flags running up the
mast of the leading ship, undoubtedly a signal, then the forward turret
with its two enormously long gun-barrels swung slowly over to starboard,
the other turrets turned at the same time, and then a tongue of flame
shot out of the mouths of both barrels in the forward turret; the wind
quickly dispersed the cloud of smoke, and three seconds later a shell
burst with a fearful noise on the deck of the _Connecticut_ between the
base of the bridge and the first gun-turret, throwing the splinters
right on the bridge and tearing off the head of the lieutenant who was
doing duty at the signal apparatus. The second shell hit the armored
plate right above the openings for the two 12-inch guns in the
fore-turret, leaving behind a great hole with jagged edges out of which
burst sheets of flame and clouds of smoke, which were blown away in long
strips by the wind. A heartrending scream from within followed this
explosion of the cartridges lying in readiness beside the guns. The
forward turret had been put out of action.

For several seconds everyone on the bridge seemed dazed, while thoughts
raced through their heads with lightning-like rapidity.

Could it be chance...? Impossible, for in the same moment that the two
shots were fired by the leading ship, the whole fleet opened fire on
Admiral Perry's squadron with shells of all calibers. The admiral
seized Farlow's arm and shook it to and fro in a blind rage.

"Those," he cried, "those ... why, man, those are the Japanese! That's
the enemy and he has surprised us right in the midst of peace! Now God
give me a clear head, and let us never forget that we are American men!"
He scarcely heard the words of the flag