rst shot at
them.

The chase goes on, the guns keep up their deadly fire. Now another
Spanish ship, the Vizcaya, turns to the shore, flames shooting from
her decks. As she touches the beach, two loud explosions shake her
from end to end. She has held her course for an hour and twenty
minutes, but now she is burning on the shore.

Only one Spanish ship is left, the Cristobol Colon, flying at full
speed, six miles ahead of our first ship, the Brooklyn. The Oregon and
the Texas follow the Brooklyn, and the New York is only a short
distance behind. For, of course, the New York, though several miles
away when the race began, heard the signal gun, and turned, and flew
back to Santiago on the wings of the wind. Faster and faster flies the
New York, gaining rapidly in the race.

Surely, it is an exciting race, for the Colon is flying for life.
Commodore Schley takes the Brooklyn farther out to sea, to head off
the Colon, when she turns her course; but our other ships follow the
Spaniard. There is little firing now from either side--the ships are
racing.

[Illustration: Destruction of Admiral Cervera's Fleet.]

Two hours pass in this way, and now the Brooklyn and the Oregon fire
heavily at the Cristobol Colon, again and again. The helpless Colon
hauls down her flag, and turns toward the shore. The last Spanish ship
gives up the struggle at fifteen minutes after one o'clock, fifty
miles west of Santiago.

While Commodore Schley is sending Captain Cook in a small boat to
receive the surrender of the Colon, the crews of the Brooklyn and
Oregon crowd upon the decks and turrets to cheer each other and shout
for joy. Some of the men of the Oregon rush at once for their drums
and bugles, and the notes of "The Star Spangled Banner" rise in place
of the roar of the guns. The New York and the Texas arrive, and the
four ships rest in triumph.

While waiting and resting, a scene took place on the Texas that will
long be remembered. The captain suddenly ordered, "All hands aft!" The
crew of five hundred men went to the deck to hear their captain's
message. The captain, in a few simple words, spoke to the men of his
faith in the Father Almighty, and then said: "I want all of you,
officers and crew, to lift your hats, and in your hearts to offer
silent thanks to God." The men were silent a few minutes, and then
left the deck, giving, as they went, "Three cheers for our captain."

[Illustration: Working the Guns on the Brooklyn.]