steamer close alongside of us.  How she had got there without our knowledge is a mystery to me even now.  However, there she was, and we had hardly seen her before a stentorian voice howled out, ‘Heave-to in that steamer, or I’ll sink you.’  It seemed as if all was over, but I determined to try a ruse before giving the little craft up.  So I answered, ‘Ay, ay, sir, we are stopped.’  The cruiser was about eighty yards from us.  We heard orders given to man and arm the quarter-boats, we saw the boats lowered into the water, we saw them coming, we heard the crews laughing and cheering at the prospect of their prize.  The bowmen had just touched the sides of our vessel with their boat-hooks when I whispered down the tube into the engine-room, ‘Full speed ahead!’ and away we shot into the darkness.

I don’t know what happened; whether the captain of the man-of-war thought that his boats had taken possession, and thus did not try to stop us, or whether he stopped to pick up his boats in the rather nasty sea that was running, some one who reads this may know.  All I can say is, that not a shot was fired, and that in less than a minute the pitch darkness hid the cruiser from our view.  This was a great piece of luck.

All the next day we passed in dodging about, avoiding the cruisers as best we could, but always approaching our post.

During the day we got good observations with which our soundings agreed; and at sunset our position was sixty miles due east of the entrance to Wilmington river, off which place were cruising a strong squadron of blockading ships.  The American blockading squadron, which had undertaken the almost impossible task of stopping all traffic along 3,000 miles of coast, consisted of nearly a hundred vessels of different sorts and sizes—­bona-fide men-of-war, captured blockade-runners, unemployed steam-packets, with many other vessels pressed into government service.  Speed and sufficient strength to carry a long gun were the only requisites, the Confederate men-of-war being few and far between.  These vessels were generally well commanded and officered, but badly manned.  The inshore squadron off Wilmington consisted of about thirty vessels, and lay in the form of a crescent facing the entrance to Cape Clear river, the centre being just out of range of the heavy guns mounted on Fort Fisher, the horns, as it were, gradually approaching the shore on each side; the whole line or curve covered about ten miles.

The blockade-runners had been in the habit of trying to get between the vessel at either extremity; and the coast being quite flat and dangerous, without any landmark, excepting here and there a tree somewhat taller than others, the cruisers generally kept at a sufficient distance to allow of this being done.  The runner would then crawl close along the shore, and when as near as could be judged opposite the entrance of the river, would show a light on the vessel’s inshore side, which was answered by a very indistinct