ully in the pearly grey light as the beautiful little waterfowl
after which she was named.

"Why, it looks almost like an anthill," said Fitz, as they approached
the mouth of the pass, whose sides were dotted with men, most of whom
were carrying rifles, while each displayed a formidable knife in his
belt. "But there doesn't seem to be any sign of the enemy as yet."

"No," said Poole; "but I say, father, do you think that they will be
able to manage those guns?"

"Yes," said the skipper gravely. "The men who had the gumption to plant
them like that will be pretty sure to find out the way to use them with
effect. Besides, they have had some experience, of course, with the
old-fashioned pieces in the fort."

"There go their colours up!" cried Fitz excitedly, as the national flag
was run up to the head of the flagstaff that had been raised during the
night. "I hope they'll win, Captain Reed, for the Don's been very
plucky, and I suppose he is in the right."

"If he hadn't been in the right I wouldn't have helped him as I have,"
said the skipper gruffly.

"No," said Poole firmly, as if to endorse his father's words. "But
don't you think, father, that if you brought all our chaps ashore to set
these men by the guns at liberty and leave our lads to work them, they'd
manage them much better--fire more regularly and twice as fast?"

"Yes, that they would," cried Fitz excitedly. "There's hardly one of
them who doesn't know his gun-drill."

"How do you know that?" said the skipper grimly.

"Oh, I asked them," replied the lad, flushing. "They all talk to me
about their old life on board different Queen's ships. It was because I
was a midshipman, I suppose. Why," he continued, growing more excited
by what he saw, "our Chips--I mean, your Chips," he said, hastily
correcting himself--"would make a splendid captain for one of the guns;
Mr Butters another, of course; and the Camel, though he's cook now.
Oh, I could man all those guns easily."

"Like to do it, perhaps," said the skipper dryly, "and fancy that
battery was the broadside of a ship?"

"Yes, of course," said the lad; "I mean--" he stammered--"that is--Oh,
it's nothing to do with me."

"No," said the skipper quietly, as he stood looking critically at the
preparations Don Ramon had made, while the scene around seemed to have
had the same peculiar exciting effect upon his son as it had upon the
midshipman, for Poole said suddenly--

"Why, father, if you