al tone:

"Gridley, you may fire when ready."

A series of sharp, crackling sounds followed, like exploding Chinese
crackers, and then the thunderous roars and a vast volume of smoke
rolled over the bay and enveloped the warships that were pouring their
deadly fire into the Spanish vessels. The American ships, in order to
disconcert the aim of the batteries of the enemy, moved slowly in their
terrible ellipses or loops, their sides spouting crimson flame and
answered by the shots of the Spaniards, who fought with a courage
deserving of all praise. The manoeuvring of the American ships led the
breathless swarms on shore to believe they were suffering defeat, and an
exultant telegram to that effect was cabled to Madrid, nearly ten
thousand miles away, where it caused a wild but short-lived rejoicing.

At half-past seven there was a lull. Commodore Dewey drew off to
replenish his magazines, of whose shortness of supply he had received
disturbing reports. Advantage was taken of the cessation to give the men
breakfast, for it is a well accepted principle that sailors as well as
soldiers fight best upon full stomachs. As the wind blew aside the dense
smoke, it was seen that the _Reina Cristina_, the Spanish flagship, was
in flames. Hardly two hours later the American squadron advanced again
to the attack, and Admiral Montojo was observed to transfer his flag
from the doomed _Reina Cristina_ to the _Isla de Cuba_, which soon after
was also ablaze. Amid the crash and roar of the ponderous guns sounded
the shrieks and cries of mortal agony from the Spanish crews, victims
to the matchless gunnery of the Americans.

[Illustration: THE "OLYMPIA" IN MANILA BAY.]

The latter pressed their advantage remorselessly. The _Don Juan de
Austria_ was the centre of the heaviest fire, and suddenly a part of the
deck flew upward in the air, carrying with it scores of dead and
wounded. A shot had exploded one of her magazines, and at the sight of
the awful results Admiral Montojo threw up his arms in despair. The crew
refused to leave the blazing ship, and cursing and praying they went
down with her. Then the _Castilla_ burst into one mass of roaring flame,
and the rest of the defeated fleet skurried down the long narrow isle
behind Cavite. Others dashed up a small creek, where they grounded, and
those that were left ran ashore. By half-past eleven the batteries of
Cavite were silenced, the Spanish fleet was destroyed, and the
victorious Am