Three minutes had not yet passed, yet a complete transformation had occurred on the Brooklyn. Five hundred men had scuttled to as many different directions, battle hatches had been lowered, water-tight compartments closed, hose attached and decks wet down, fire tubs filled, magazines opened, hoists put into operation, and ammunition delivered to turret, decks, and to the fighting-tops. Down below, fire had been started under four fresh boilers, and a dozen different connections between engines made.
Nor was this all. Splinter nets had been spread as before, all useless woodwork thrown overboard, and the surgeons' operating tables made ready. The warning gun from the Iowa was followed by a gun from the Texas, and then the Brooklyn helped to "open the ball" with her forward eight-inch guns. Another great naval battle, fully equal to that of Manila Bay, was now on.
"It's a question of do or die, boys!" cried Caleb, as he worked over the heavy gun before him. "Hustle now, as you never hustled before, or the dagos will get away. Now then, Polly, do the best you can!" And bang! went the gun, with a noise that was deafening. Ten minutes later Walter felt as if his hearing had left him entirely, so incessant was the firing.
The first fire from the enemy came from the Maria Teresa, and was an eleven-inch shell directed at the Brooklyn. Hardly had this been discharged when the Indiana, coming up behind the Iowa, took a long-range chance and sent a shell directly upon the Teresa's deck, doing not a little damage. Then the firing became general, and shot and shell was hurled in every direction.
So far, the Brooklyn had been headed directly for the harbor entrance, commodore and captain being intent upon cutting off the enemy's westward flight, if possible. This course soon brought the Maria Teresa, Vizcaya, and the Brooklyn into close proximity, and presently all were lost to view in a dense cloud of smoke, from which shot long streaks of fire, as battery after battery was discharged at close range.
"Give it to 'em!" was the cry that rang throughout the Brooklyn. "Don't let up on 'em! We must do as well as Dewey did, and better! Remember the Maine, and three cheers for Uncle Sam!" Such cries were truly inspiring, but presently the men became silent, as the work began to tell upon them, and they realized what a fearful task still lay before them.
"The second ship's flag is down!" was the welcome news which soon drifted down from the fighting-tops. It was true, the Vizcaya's big silk flag had been riddled completely and the halyard shot away; but soon another flag was run up. Later on the Brooklyn's flag also came down, but it did not remain so more than two minutes before a jackie had it up again.
The battle had but fairly begun, and the Brooklyn and the Maria Teresa were having it "hot and heavy," when suddenly the bow of the Vizcaya began to turn swiftly. At once a cry rang out. "That ship is going to ram the Brooklyn! See, she is turning full toward her!"
The warning proved true. The Vizcaya was turned fairly and squarely for Commodore Schley's flagship. Bells were ringing on board of her for "Full speed ahead." On and on she came, like a demon of the deep, in one wild, terrible effort to ram the vessel Walter was on and sink her!