into
the channel would ever see their friends again. Death in the waves, or
death in the hands of the Spaniards, was the prospect. Lieutenant
Hobson said that he would not take one man more than was needed. A
signal was put up on all the ships, to find out the men who were
willing to go in the Merrimac. Hundreds of brave fellows sent in their
names, begged to go, gave good reasons why they thought they ought to
go, and were grieved to be refused. Lieutenant Hobson chose only six,
but at the last minute a seventh man got his chance; so, counting
Lieutenant Hobson, there were eight men going to almost certain death.

After the passing away of the old wooden ships of the navy, and before
our war with Spain, it was often said that opportunities for
individual bravery and daring had departed from the navy; but this was
disproved in the case of Lieutenant Hobson and his men, and in many
other instances. Every man in the fleet was ready to go on the
Merrimac and do what he was told to do; and so long as such men man
our ships our navy can never be conquered. They will fight to the
uttermost and go down with their colors rather than strike them.

Thursday evening, the second of June, arrives, and the Merrimac is all
ready for her last voyage. The men are on board, waiting for the time
to start. Quietly and fearlessly they pass the night, but they do not
sleep, they cannot sleep. Behind the Merrimac, farther out at sea,
stand the faithful vessels of our fleet, huge, pale shadows in the
night. The full moon lights up the channel that the Merrimac will
enter after awhile when the moon is low. On both sides of the channel
rise the high cliffs with their forts. Morro Castle frowns upon the
scene. Beyond--far beyond, are the mountain tops.

A basket of food and a kettle of coffee had been sent on board by the
flagship, and after midnight the men sit down on deck to eat their
last meal on board the Merrimac.

A little before two o'clock, Friday morning, June 3d, the Merrimac
starts for the channel. Each man is at his post; each knows his duty
and intends to do it. The men are not wearing their naval uniforms,
but are clad only in woolen underclothes, woolen stockings, with no
shoes. Each man wears a life-preserver, and a belt with a revolver
fastened to it.

On, on goes the vessel, swiftly, surely, heading for the channel.
Suddenly shots begin to pour upon the Merrimac; the Spaniards in the
forts have seen her approach. Still s