_qui vive_ to board on the instant of
discovery.
The good fortune encouraged all hands, and as the schooner and wreck
melted into the darkness the launch swept around a bend in the river and
caught the glimmer of the camp fires along the banks, partly
extinguished by the falling rain. Still creeping cautiously on, the
outlines of the prodigious ram gradually assumed form in the gloom. It
looked as if the surprise would be complete, when a dog, more watchful
than his masters, began barking. He had discovered the approaching
danger, and the startled sentinels challenged, but no reply was made. A
second challenge bringing no response, several muskets flashed in the
night. Other dogs joined in barking, alarm rattles were sprung and wood
flung upon the fires, which, flaring up, threw their illumination out on
the river and revealed the launch and cutter. The hoarse commands of
officers rang out, and the soldiers, springing from sleep, caught up
their guns and rushed to quarters.
Amid the fearful din and peril Cushing cut the tow line and ordered the
cutter to hasten down the river and capture the guard near the
_Southfield_. At the same moment he directed the launch to go ahead at
full speed. He had changed his plan. Instead of landing he determined
to blow up the ram. When close to it he learned for the first time of
the cordon of logs which surrounded the _Albemarle_, but, believing they
were slippery enough from remaining long in the water to be passed, he
sheered off, made a sweep of a hundred yards and again charged under
full steam for the obstruction.
As he drew near the guards fired a volley which riddled Cushing's coat
and tore off the sole of his shoe.
At the same moment he heard the vicious snapping of the primers of the
huge guns, which showed they had missed fire.
"Leave the ram!" he shouted. "We're going to blow you up!"
The Confederates, however, did not follow the advice and the launch
fired her howitzer. Then she glided over the slimy logs and paused in
front of the muzzle of a loaded cannon which could be almost reached
with the outstretched hand. Still cool and self-possessed amid the
horrible perils, Cushing stood erect, lowered the torpedo spar, shoved
it under the overhang, waited a moment for it to rise until he felt it
touch the bottom of the ram, when he gave a quick, strong pull on the
trigger line. A muffled, thunderous explosion followed, an immense
column of water rose in the air and
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