tarted
out with his flagship, named the _Reina Cristina_, straight for the
_Olympia_, which he hoped to cut in two. But as soon as his ship
appeared all the American ships turned their guns on it, and riddled it
with a frightful storm of iron.

The brave Spaniard saw that his ship would be sunk if he went on. He
turned to run back, but as he did so a great eight-inch shell struck his
ship in the stern and went clear through to the bow, scattering death
and destruction on every side. It exploded one of the boilers. It blew
open the deck. It set the ship on fire. White smoke came curling up. The
ship fought on as the fire burned, but she was past hope.

Two torpedo-boats came out, but they could not stand the storm any
better than the _Reina Cristina_. In a few minutes one of them was cut
through and went like a stone to the bottom. The other ran in faster
than she had come out and went ashore.

For two hours this dreadful work went on. Then Dewey thought it was time
to give his men a rest and let them have some breakfast, so he steamed
away. Three of the Spanish ships were burning like so much tinder, and
it was plain that the battle was as good as won.

A little after eleven o'clock the American ships came back fresh as
ever, all of them with the Stars and Stripes afloat. The Spanish flag
was flying too, but nearly every ship was in flames. But the Spaniards
were not whipped yet. They began to fire again, and so for another hour
the fight went on. At the end of that time the guns were silenced, the
flags had gone down, and the battle was won.

That was the end of the most one-sided victory in the history of the
American navy. All the Spanish ships were on fire and had sunk in the
shallow bay. Hundreds of their men were dead or wounded. The American
ships were nearly as good as ever, for hardly a shot had struck them,
and only eight men were slightly hurt. The Spaniards had fired fast
enough, but they had wasted nearly all their shot.

When the people of the United States heard of this great victory they
were wild with delight. Before that very few had heard of George Dewey;
now he was looked on as one of our greatest naval heroes. "Dewey on the
bridge," with shot and shell screaming about him, was as fine a figure
as "Farragut in the shrouds" had once been.

Congress made him a rear-admiral at once, and soon after they made him
an admiral. This is the highest rank in the American navy. Only Farragut
and Porter h