sting-trade. Such an air of
quiet and desolation hung about the place, that the inhabitants
probably welcomed the advent of even the hostile sailors as being
something to break the monotony. After a stoppage of an hour and a
half, the "Ellis" started down the river. The quiet of the upward
voyage had dispelled any thoughts of danger, but about five o'clock
suspicions were re-awakened by the sight of a small encampment on the
bank. A few shells thrown over the tents quickly sent the campers
scurrying into the woods; and, as the camps seemed to have no
artillery, the "Ellis" continued without further hostilities. A short
distance down the stream the Confederates opened upon them with two
guns mounted on a lofty bluff. Cushing, ever ready for a skirmish,
stopped his engine, and cleared away the big pivot-gun for action. The
battle-flag was hoisted at the fore, and the crew, with three cheers,
set about the work. About an hour of artillery practice followed,
when, the enemy being driven from his guns, the "Ellis" proceeded on
her way. It was now growing dark, and the tide was rapidly falling.
The two pilots on the steamer agreed that daylight and high tide were
necessary to get the vessel safely out of the river. With great
reluctance Cushing ordered the anchor to be let fall, and proceeded to
make preparations for the night. On both banks of the river could be
seen the flash of lanterns, proving that the Confederates were aware
of the steamer's presence, and were contemplating an attack. To resist
such an attack if made in force during the night, seemed almost
hopeless; yet the sailors went cheerfully about the work of
preparation, getting out cutlasses and revolvers, and putting up the
boarding-nettings over the sides. In watchful anxiety the hours wore
away. No sound escaped the vigilant ear of the men on duty. But the
enemy evidently had abandoned the attack, and when morning broke none
were to be seen. With light hearts, and feeling that the worst was
past, the little party continued their way, only to find that the
worst was yet to come. Soon after daylight, the pilot, mistaking the
channel, ran the ship so solidly aground that there was clearly no
hope of extricating her. All this time she had been towing one of the
captured schooners; and Cushing, with quick decisiveness, ordered that
every thing should be removed from the "Ellis" to the schooner. This
was quickly done, leaving nothing but the great pivot-gun aboard.