t eleven-inch gun,
already loaded, is out in a twinkling. Men are bringing up shot and
shell. The deck is clearing of all superfluous furniture.

There she is, a mile distant, a beautiful steamer, head up-stream. She
sees us, and turns her bow. Her broadside comes round, and we read
"Sovereign" upon her wheelhouse. We are on the upper deck, and the
muzzle of the eleven-inch gun is immediately beneath us. A great flash
comes in our faces. We are in a cloud, stifled, stunned, gasping for
breath, our ears ringing; but the cloud is blown away, and we see the
shot throw up the water a mile beyond the Sovereign. Glorious! We will
have her. Another, not so good. Another, still worse.

The Louisville, Carondelet, and Cairo open fire. But the Sovereign is a
fast sailer, and is increasing the distance.

"The Spitfire will catch her!" says the pilot. A wave of the hand, and
the Spitfire is alongside, running up like a dog to its master.
Lieutenant Bishop, Pilot Bixby, and a gun crew jump on board the tug,
which carries a boat howitzer. Away they go, the tug puffing and
wheezing, as if it had the asthma.

"Through the _chute_!" shouts Captain Phelps. _Chute_ is a French word,
meaning a narrow passage, not the main channel of the river. The
Sovereign is in the main channel, but the Spitfire has the shortest
distance. The tug cuts the water like a knife. She comes out just astern
of the steamer.

Bang! goes the howitzer. The shot falls short. Bang! again in a
twinkling. Better. Bang! It goes over the Sovereign.

"Hurrah! Bishop will get her!" The crews of the gunboats dance with
delight, and swing their caps. Bang! Right through her cabin. The
Sovereign turns towards the shore, and runs plump against the bank. The
crew, all but the cook, take to the woods, and the steamer is ours.

It would astonish you to see how fast a well-drilled boat's-crew can
load and fire a howitzer. Commodore Foote informed me that, when he was
in the China Sea, he was attacked by the natives, and his boat's-crew
fired four times a minute!

The chase for the Sovereign was very exciting,--more so than any
horse-race I ever saw.

The crew on board the Sovereign had been stopping at all the farm-houses
along the river, setting fire to the cotton on the plantations. They did
it in the name of the Confederate government, that it might not fall
into the hands of the Yankees. In a great many places they had rolled it
into the river, and the stream was co