ur post rather nearer the shore than other vessels here.

Days pass on in watching, and as yet no foreign sail. We study the line
of our western horizon, and find it well filled in with forts,
embrazures, earthworks, black-nosed dogs of war, and busy traitors. As
time goes on, a new thing opens to the view: a short week ago it seemed
but a molehill: now it has risen to the height of a man, and hourly
increases in size. Two weeks, and now its summit is far above the reach
of spade or shovel throw, and crowned by a platform firmly knit and held
together by well-spliced timbers. As to its object we are somewhat
dubious, but think it the beginning of an earthwork fortress, built high
in order that guns may be depressed and brought to bear on the turrets
of any Monitors which might possibly come down upon this place or
Wilmington.

At night we draw nearer to the shore, watching narrowly for blockade
runners, which evade us occasionally, but oftener scud away
disappointed. One night or early morning, 3 A. M. by the clock,
we tried to heave up anchor; the pin slipped from the shackles, and the
anchor, with forty fathoms of chain attached, slipped and sank to the
bottom in some eight fathoms of water.

The next day we steamed into our moorings of the previous night and
sought to drag for it. While arranging to do so, we saw a puff of smoke
from the shore. Bang! and a massive cannon ball tore whizzing over our
heads. The shore batteries had us in their range, and the firing from
the far-reaching Whitworth guns grows more rapid. Puff after puff rolls
up from the long line of battery-covered hillocks, under the bastard
flag, and the rolling thunder peals on our ears with the whizzing of
death-threatening balls. Oh! the excitement of watching and wondering
where the next ball will strike, and whether it will crush a hole right
through us, wasting rich human life, and scattering our decks with
torn-off limbs and running pools of blood. Quickly as possible we up
anchor and away, and soon are out of reach of balls, which splash the
water not a ship's length from us. Even then we involuntarily dodge
behind some pine board or other equally serviceable screen; and a
newspaper, if that were nearest, would be used for the same purpose--so
say those who have tasted many a naval fight. In fact, the dodge is as
often after the ball has hit as before, as this story of one of our
brave quartermasters will prove: Under fire from rebel batterie