tween the cliffs of Morro and Socapa Points
appeared the bows of Cervera's flagship. An alarm gun rang out from the
"Iowa," the signal, "Enemy escaping--clear for action," fluttered out from
the halyards of the "Brooklyn," and on every ship the bugles sounded, the
men rushed to their battle stations, and the stokers worked madly to get
steam on the boilers.

Admiral Cervera, guided by a local pilot, Miguel Lopez, had led his fleet
down the harbour, the "Maria Teresa" being followed in succession by the
cruisers "Vizcaya," "Cristobal Colon," and "Oquendo," and the destroyers
"Pluton" and "Furor." As the flagship entered the ravine of the narrows
Cervera signalled to his captains, "I wish you a speedy victory!" Miguel
Lopez, who was with him in the conning-tower, remarked that the admiral
gave his orders very deliberately, and showed no sign of anxiety or
excitement. He had asked Lopez to tell him how soon he could turn to the
westward. On a sign from the pilot, he gave the order, "Starboard!" to the
helmsman, put the engine-room indicator to "Full speed," and told his
captain to open fire. As the guns roared out Cervera turned with a smile to
Lopez and said, "You have done your part well, pilot; I hope you will come
out of this safe and be well rewarded. You have deserved it."

The cruisers had run out with an interval of about 600 yards between the
ships. There was a longer gap between the last of them and the destroyers,
but the "Furor" was out within a quarter of an hour of the "Maria Teresa's"
appearance between the headlands. That quarter of an hour had been a busy
time for the Americans. The "Brooklyn" and the four battleships had at once
headed for the opening of the harbour, the "Oregon" making the best speed
till the steam pressure rose on the boilers of her consorts. They were no
sooner moving than they opened fire with their forward guns, the Spanish
cruisers and the batteries of Socapa and Morro replying with shots, every
one of which fell short.

As Cervera turned westward the American ships also altered their course in
the same direction. And now as the huge ships of the blockading squadron,
each wrapped in a fog of smoke from her guns, converged upon the same
course, there was a momentary danger of disastrous collision between them,
a danger accentuated by an unexpected manoeuvre of Commodore Schley's ship,
the "Brooklyn." The "Texas" and the "Iowa" just cleared each other in the
smoke-cloud. As they shee