ish Admiral stretched out in a line that began behind the hook and led away toward Manila city for nearly a mile.

Not a Spanish ship had steam up-why should a Spanish admiral doubt the ability of the men in the forts down the bay to stop any Yankee squadron? Moreover, there were the forts on Cavite Point with their beautiful Krupp rifles to aid the Spanish ships, as well as guard the naval arsenal behind them, while over to the east, seven miles away, on the outskirts of Manila, were still other forts with Krupp guns, and the Yankee squadron must needs get within their range if a fight were really intended. The Yankees had passed the forts below, without doubt, but

It was Sunday morning, May 1, 1898. At 5.15 o'clock precisely the Spaniards opened fire with a big gun in a Manila city fort. Our sailors saw a huge puff of smoke and then a big projectile dropped into the water a mile or so from the flag-ship Olympia. At this time Commodore Dewey was standing on the Olympia's bridge, while Fleet-Captain Benjamin P. Lamberton, Flag-Lieutenant Thomas M. Brumby, Executive Officer Corwin P. Rees, and the Navigator-Lieutenant C. G. Calkins were with him. Captain Gridley was obliged to go into the armored conning tower, lest a chance shell sweep the bridge and leave

the ship without an officer of high rank. The men had already cleared away the dishes used in their light repast and had returned to their guns. The air was motionless and the sea a perfect level. The rose light of dawn had suffused the eastern sky, but a faint haze in the dead air curtained off the Spaniards in the little harbor at Cavite, so that they were wholly invisible. But Dewey knew they were there (ten fighting ships besides transports and two torpedo-boats), and hoisting the old flag to fore and main peaks and the spanker-gaff or taffrail staff of every ship, he left the transports with the McCulloch in the middle of the bay, headed the Olympia off toward the northerly end of the bay, swung her around in a wide arc toward Manila on the east, and with his fighting squadron following him with the precision of a tow on the great lakes, he steamed straight at his anchored prey. A signal at the yard-arm read, "Fire as convenient."

While yet he was several miles away the Spanish squadron appeared with colors up, and the fierce little gunners in the Cavite forts began to fire their big guns. The Spanish ships soon joined in, but Dewey held on his way into that hail of steel without reply, while his crews at their guns, "with set teeth and the smile that one sees so often on the faces of

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men in the prize ring," awaited the word in silence.

At last, when a little more than two miles away from forts and anchored squadron, the Olympia swerved to the right (west), so as to pass the Spaniards broadside to broadside, and then, turning to the captain of the ship, Dewey said, quietly:

"When you are ready, you may fire, Gridley," and Gridley passed the order to the eager gunners in the Olympia's forward turret. The two long eight-inch rifles there were already trained on the Spanish flag-ship, and as the order was heard they made quick reply. Two darting flashes in the midst of a rolling cloud of smoke were seen, and with a shivering roar the projectiles were hurled at the doomed Spaniards.

"Almost instantly—it seemed like an echo -came the sound of the guns of the other ships" of the Yankee squadron. It was at exactly 5.35 o'clock that the first guns on the Olympia were fired. Our ships were slowed down as they approached the Spaniards to give our gunners a better chance. The headway was just about right to carry the guns of the leader clear of the smoke they made, and seeing this, and that the Yankees were now well within range, the Spaniards worked their guns with redoubled fury. To the crews of the transports