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

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

it seemed that "never did spectators watch a more desperate game. The water on every side of our ships was cut and slashed into foam and spray, while the guns at Manila reached out to fill the air about the transports, as well as the fighting ships, with screaming shot.

Passing the anchored squadron at a range of a mile and a half, Dewey led his ships in front of the forts on Cavite Point, and then turning slowly about, went back at them with the fresh batteries to starboard. He had given the Spaniards such punishment as they had never dreamed of, but they were fighting with the desperation of cornered cats, and their fire seemed undiminished.

Indeed, as our squadron drew near once more, a huge mine-field was exploded a thousand yards or so in advance of the Olympia, and then, when it was seen that the mine had failed to do its work, the beautiful white flagship Reina Christina slipped her cable and came steaming out to meet the Olympia, rail against rail. Here, if ever, was uncircumspect valor-the clawing dash of the cat at the unrelenting bull-dog-but the guns of almost our entire squadron were turned upon her, and no flesh and blood could face the hell of bursting steel that was hurled upon her. Her sides were crushed in, her men melted away from their guns, and turning her about, Admiral Montojo