down in numbers to the shore, and began firing away at us as fast as
they could load. Fortunately in the darkness our boat offered no very
certain mark; but the shot came flying about us, spluttering into the
water like a shower of hail. Now and then, _thud_--that peculiar
sound--gave notice that a bullet had struck the boat, but not a man was
hit. As soon as we had got a little way off, we pulled up the stream,
and then steered for the ship so as to mislead the enemy as to the
course we had taken. Long after they must have lost sight of us the
flash of their muskets showed that they were still peppering away in the
direction in which they supposed we had gone.

We reached the ship without further adventure. Captain Hudson was very
sorry to find that we had come off without the spies; but he at once saw
that this was owing to no fault of ours.

The next morning, as the first lieutenant, as usual, was sweeping the
shore with his glass, an exclamation of horror he uttered made me point
mine in the same direction. There, directly abreast of the ship, hung
suspended on the branches of a tree scathed by lightning two human
forms--one was stout and short, the other tall and slight. There was
too much reason to believe that they were the bodies of our unfortunate
spies. No one was near them. Solitary they swung on the river shore, a
warning to others who might be inclined to follow their example--a sad
result of the ruthless necessity of war. They probably had been seized
and executed directly after they were captured. We could not blame the
Americans. Our generals had frequently been compelled to do the same
with their spies whom they had taken, but even this did not put a stop
to the system. The sad spectacle I have described saluted our eyes
whenever we turned towards the shore; and I, for one, was very sorry for
the fate of Meeks and his nephew; but I must confess that we were
becoming so accustomed to the sights and horrors of warfare that such
sensations lasted but a short time.

I forgot to mention that one of the pieces of information Meeks brought
us was that our messmate Kennedy, who had charge of one of the prizes
taken off Cape May, had been taken by the rebels, and was now a prisoner
of war in their hands. It was with no slight satisfaction that we saw
the Greyhound come up to relieve us on the 30th of May, when we made
over to our brother-officers belonging to her the full right to all the
produ