The land had been sighted at two bells (nine o’clock), and all hands were looking for Cienfuegos, but it was past one before the mouth of the harbor was gained.  The “Yankee’s” crew were at regular quarters at the time, but a hurried order to dismiss and clear ship for action sent the different guns’ crews scurrying to their stations.

To add to the interest, word came from the bridge to train the guns aft and to do everything possible to disguise the cruiser.

“We are to masquerade as a blooming merchantman,” chuckled “Dye.”  “This reminds me of my boyhood days when I read pirate stories.  Do you remember that yarn about Kydd, where he rigged painted canvas about his ship and hid all the ports, ‘Stump’?  It was great.  The whole piratical crew, with the exception of a dozen men, kept below, and when a poor unfortunate ship came along, the bloodthirsty villains captured her.”

“I wish they had caught you at the same time,” retorted “Stump.”  “Then we wouldn’t be bothered with your infernal cackle.  Here, give me a hand with this mess chest.”

By this time the task of preparing for action was an old story, and we made short work of it.  The call to “general quarters” followed without delay, and, as we prepared the battery for action, word came from above that a large gunboat, showing Spanish colors, was leaving the harbor in our direction.

“Which means a scrap of the liveliest description,” muttered Tommy.  “They evidently take us for a trader without guns, and they’ll attack us sure.”

Boom!

A six-pounder gave voice from the spar deck, instantly followed by a five-inch breechloader in the waist.  Number Eight was loaded, and “Hay,” who held the firing lanyard, snatched another sight, then stood erect with left hand in the air.

“Ready, sir,” he called out to the officer of the division.

“Fire!” came the reply promptly.

With the word a vicious report shook the deck, and the gun muzzle vanished in a cloud of smoke.  Eager hands opened the breech, others inserted another cartridge, there was a shifting of the training lever, a turn of the elevating wheel, then “Hay” stood back once more, and coolly made the electrical connection.

Following the second report came a dull, booming sound, apparently from a distance.  We eyed one another significantly.

“It’s a fort,” quoth “Dye.”  “We’ve got to tackle both sea and land forces.”

Presently, while we were hard at work sending shots at the Spanish gunboat, which was in lively action a short distance away, we became aware of a peculiar whirring noise—­a sound like the angry humming of a swarm of hornets.  It would rise and fall in volume, then break off short with a sharp crash.  Suddenly, while glancing through the port, I saw something strike the surface, sending up a great spurt of water.  It was followed by a dull, muffled report which seemed to shake the ship.