They passed within a hundred yards of her and were not heard.
Soon after Burroughs whispered: “Steamer on the port bow.”
A second cruiser was made out close to them.
“Hard a port,” said the captain, and the steamer swung round, bringing the enemy upon her beam. No sound! The enemy slept! Then suddenly a third cruiser came out of the gloom and steamed slowly across the Banshee’s bows.
“Stop her,” said Captain Steele down the tube, and the blockade-runner gurgled to a standstill, while the cruiser moved across and was lost in the darkness.
Then “Slow ahead” was the order, until the low-lying coast and the grey surf came dim to the eye. But it was getting near dawn, and there was no trace of the river mouth.
They knew not quite where they were, and thoughts of prison and prison fare would come uppermost.
At length the pilot said: “All right, boys. I can see the big hill yonder.”
The only hill on the coast was near Fort Fisher. Now they knew where they were; so did six or seven gunboats, which, in the silver light of early dawn, catching sight of their prey, steamed hard and fast towards the Banshee, with angry shots from the bow gun. The balls were dropping all around and churning up the sea. It was mighty unpleasant to men who knew they had several tons of gunpowder in the hold; and just then they were obliged to steer out to avoid the North Breaker shoal, so that the gunboats crept ever nearer and nearer, barking like disappointed puppies.
The pilot looked at the captain and the captain at the supercargo. Their lips tightened and their breath came faster as they eyed the gunboats askance.