masthead of the "Young Republic." An officer who went into the
boiler-room found that the captured crew had planned to blow up the
vessel by tying down the safety-valve, so that an enormous pressure of
steam strained the boilers almost to bursting. A quick blow of a
hatchet, and that danger was done away with. Then, with a prize-crew
on board, the "Young Republic" started on her voyage to New York;
while the "Grand Gulf" returned to Wilmington to hunt for fresh game.

[Illustration: Pursuing a Blockade-Runner.]

A curious capture was that of the British schooner "Francis," which
was running between Nassau and the coast of Florida. On her last trip
she was nearing the coast, when she fell in with a fishing-smack, and
was warned that a Federal gunboat was not far away. Still she kept on
her course until sundown, when the breeze went down, and she lay
becalmed. The gunboat had been steaming into inlets and lagoons all
day, and had not sighted the schooner. When night came on, she steamed
out into the open sea, within a quarter of a mile of the
blockade-runner, and, putting out all lights, lay to for the night.
Those on the schooner could see the gunboat, but the lookout on the
cruiser did not see the blockade-runner. Soon a heavy fog came up, and
entirely hid the vessels from each other. The blockade-runners could
only hope that a breeze might spring up, and enable them to escape.
But now a curious thing occurred. It almost seems as if two vessels on
the ocean exercise a magnetic attraction for each other so often do
collisions occur where there seems room for all the navies of the
world to pass in review. So it was this night. The anxious men on
the schooner soon found that the two vessels were drifting together,
and they were absolutely powerless to prevent it. At midnight, though
they could see nothing, they could hear the men on the gunboat
talking. Two hours after, the schooner nestled gently up by the side
of the gunboat; and a slight jar gave its crew their first intimation
that a prize was there, simply waiting to be taken. All they had to do
was to climb over the railing. This was promptly done, and the
disgusted blockade-runners were sent below as prisoners. Half an hour
later came a breeze that would have carried them safely to port.

The gray sea-fogs played many scurvy tricks with the
blockading-fleets, often letting the runners in right under the
muzzles of the great guns. It was far easier to spy out a v