ile glancing through the port, I saw
something strike the surface, sending up a great spurt of water. It was
followed by a dull, muffled report which seemed to shake the ship.

It was a shell!

"Whiz! they are coming pretty fast," remarked Flagg. "That last one
didn't miss us by a dozen yards."

"This isn't Santiago shooting," put in Tommy. "These beggars know how to
aim."

During the next ten minutes the fighting was fast and furious. It was
load and fire and load again without cessation. There was the old
trouble in regard to the smoke, and half the time we had to aim blindly.
Notwithstanding that fact, "Hay" did so well that word came from Captain
Brownson complimenting him warmly.

The "Yankee" seemed to be the centre of a series of eruptions. The
Spanish shells kept the water continually boiling, and with the
splashing of each projectile there would arise a geyser-like fountain
accompanied by a muffled explosion which could be plainly felt on board
the ship.

[Illustration: "THERE WAS TEMPORARY CONFUSION"]

It was the first real naval battle experienced by us--the bombardment of
Santiago being of an entirely different calibre--and it needed only the
grewsome setting of surgeons and wounded and blood to make it complete.
That soon came.

We of Number Eight gun were working at our stations, so intent on our
duties that the uproar of shot and shell outside claimed little
attention, when suddenly there came a louder explosion than usual
directly in front of the open port.

There was a blinding flash, a puff of stifling smoke, and then Kennedy,
who was just approaching the gun with a shell, staggered back, and
almost fell to the deck. Tommy, the first captain, made a gesture as if
brushing something from his breast, and then leaped to the injured man's
assistance.

"It was a piece of shell," cried "Stump." "It came through the port."

There was temporary confusion. The surgeon and his assistants came on a
run, but before they could reach the spot, Kennedy recovered and
advanced to meet them. He presented a horrible spectacle, with his face
and neck and body spattered with blood, and we who were nearest saw that
he had been frightfully wounded in the left shoulder.

Notwithstanding that fact, he remained cool and steady, and never made
the slightest indication that he was suffering. When he finally
disappeared down the berth-deck ladder we exchanged glances of surprise
and sympathy.

"That isn't Kennedy