soned by national troops. They stand on the south-western
limb of one of the low, barren islands which separate this part of
Pamlico Sound from the Atlantic. Between two narrow sand-spits the tides
rush in and out with great force and rapidity; and this is the inlet--a
mere passage cut through into the sound by the action of the sea.

As the schooner was being towed farther in, some men in a boat, who had
been ashore at Fort Hatteras, and were returning to their ship, came
alongside. The party consisted of some officers belonging to a New Jersey
regiment, together with a boat's crew of six men.

"Throw us a line," they said; "and tow us along."

A line was flung to them from the schooner; but they had some difficulty
in getting it, for the waves were running high in the channel. Pending
the effort, the tiller slipped from the hands of the officer who was
steering; a heavy sea struck the boat on the quarter, and she capsized.
Boats were lowered from the schooner, and sent to the rescue. It was a
scene of intense and anxious interest to Frank, who was on deck and saw
it all. The men in the water righted the boat several times, but she
filled and capsized as often. One officer was seen to get his feet
entangled, sink with his head downward, and drown in that position before
he could be extricated. He was the colonel of the regiment. The surgeon
of the regiment also perished. All the rest were saved.

The drowned bodies were brought upon deck, and every effort was made to
bring back life into them; but in vain. And there they lay; so full of
hope, and courage, and throbbing human life an hour ago--now two pale,
livid corpses. The incident made a strong impression on Frank, not yet
accustomed to the aspect of death, which was destined to become so
familiar to his eyes a few days later.

Still the dangers and delays that threatened to prove fatal to the
expedition were far from ended. It seemed that the rebels were the
enemies it had least to fear. Avarice, incapacity, and treachery at home
had conspired with the elements against it. Many of the larger vessels
drew too much water for the passage into the sound, and were wholly unfit
for the voyage.

"The contractors," said Burnside, "have ruined me; but God holds me in
his palm, and all will yet be well."

With nothing to distinguish him but his yellow belt, in blue shirt,
slouched hat, and high boots, he stood like a sea-god (says an
eye-witness) in the bows of his li