ecuring an easy berth. Their
blockading duty was not so arduous as that of their brothers along the
rugged Atlantic coast; but they were harassed continually by
Confederate rams, which would make a dash into the fleet, strike heavy
blows, and then fly up some convenient river far into the territory of
the Confederacy. One such attack was made upon the squadron blockading
the Mississippi in October, 1861.

Some eighty miles below New Orleans, the Mississippi divides into
three great channels, which flow at wide angles from each other into
the Gulf of Mexico. These streams flow between low marshy banks hardly
higher than the muddy surface of the river, covered with thick growths
of willows, and infested with reptiles and poisonous insects. The
point from which these three streams diverge is known as the "Head of
the Passes," and it was here that the blockading squadron of four
vessels was stationed. The ships swung idly at their moorings for
weeks. The pestilential vapors from the surrounding marshes were
rapidly putting all the crews in the sick bay, while the clouds of
gnats and mosquitoes that hung about made Jack's life a wretched one.
They did not even have the pleasurable excitement of occasionally
chasing a blockade-runner, for the wary merchants of New Orleans knew
that there was absolutely no hope of running a vessel out through a
river so effectually blockaded. And so the sailors idled away their
time, smoking, singing, dancing to the music of a doleful fiddle,
boxing with home-made canvas gloves that left big spots of black and
blue where they struck, and generally wishing that "Johnny Reb" would
show himself so that they might have some excitement, even if it did
cost a few lives.

But while the blue-jackets at the mouth of the river were spending
their time thus idly, the people in the beleaguered city higher up
were vastly enraged at being thus cooped up, and were laying plans to
drive their jailers away. Occasionally they would take a small fleet
of flat boats, bind them together, and heap them high with tar, pitch,
and light wood. Then the whole would be towed down the river, set on
fire, and drifted down upon the fleet. The light of the great fire
could be seen far off, and the warships would get up steam and dodge
the roaring mass of flames as it came surging down on the swift
current. So many trials of this sort failed, that finally the people
of the Crescent City gave up this plan in disgust.

Thei