elude the
enemy under cover of darkness, although there was still a whole hour to
that time.

Slowly the hull of the hostile ship rose above the horizon, and when she
was still at a distance of about four thousand yards there was a flash
at her bows, and the thunder of a shot boomed across the waters, echoed
faintly from the mountains of Mindoro.

"They're too far away," said Parrington, as the enemy's shell splashed
into the waves far ahead of the line of gunboats. A second shot followed
a few minutes later, and whizzed between the _Mindoro_ and her neighbor,
throwing up white sprays of water whose drops, in the rays of the
setting sun, fell back into the sea like golden mist. And now came shot
after shot, while the Americans were unable to answer with their small
guns at that great distance.

Suddenly a shell swept the whole length of the _Mindoro's_ deck, on the
port side, tearing up the planks of the foredeck as it burst. Things
were getting serious! Slowly the sun sank in the west, turning the sky
into one huge red flame, streaked with yellow lights and deep green
patches. The clouds, which looked like spots of black velvet floating
above the semicircle of the sun, had jagged edges of gleaming white and
unearthly ruby red. Fiery red, yellow, and green reflections played
tremblingly over the water, while in the east the deep blue shadows of
night slowly overspread the sky.

The whole formed a picture of rare coloring: the four little American
ships, pushing forward with all the strength of their puffing engines
and throwing up a white line of foam before them with their sharp bows;
on the bridges the weather-beaten forms of their commanders, and beside
the dull-brown gun muzzles the gun crews, waiting impatiently for the
moment when the decreasing distance would at last allow them to use
their weapons; far away in the blue shadows of the departing day, like a
spirit of the sea, the white steamer, from whose sides poured
unceasingly the yellow flashes from the mouths of the cannon. Several
shots had caused a good deal of damage among the rigging of the
gunboats. The _Callao_ had only half a funnel left, from which
gray-brown smoke and red sparks poured forth.

Suddenly there was a loud explosion, and the _Callao_ listed to port. A
six-inch shell had hit her squarely in the stern, passing through the
middle of the ship, and exploded in the upper part of the engine-room.
The little gunboat was eliminated from the