On The Blockade

by Oliver Optic

"You must excuse me, Captain Passford, but I think you are reckoning without your host, and therein your youth makes its only manifestation," said the guest, shaking his head. "I can only say that, when you are a prisoner on board of the Escambia, I shall do my best to have you as handsomely treated as I have been in your cabin."

"Thank you, captain; I assure you I shall appreciate any courtesy and kindness extended to me. The Escambia is her name then. That is not so near Perdition as the word I suggested, and I am glad it is not so long as the name you gave the Scotian. I shall expect to come across an Apalachicola in due time. They are all very good names, but we shall be compelled to change them when they fall into our hands," said Christy.

"I have plenty of spare time on my hands just now, and perhaps I had better think up a new name for the Bronx; and Apalachicola would be as good as any other. I wonder you did not call her the Nutcracker, for her present name rather suggests that idea."

"I have heard a similar remark before; but she is not big enough for such a long name as the one you suggest, and you would have to begin to pronounce it before breakfast in order to get it out before the dog watches," said Christy, as he rose from the table and went on deck.

The first thing he noticed when he came on the bridge was that the Ocklockonee was headed to intercept the Bronx. Captain Flint signalled that he wished to speak to him, and he changed his course to comply with the request. At the end of another hour they came together, the Arran being still at least four miles distant, going very slowly if she was moving at all.

Christy had written out his orders for Captain Flint in full. So far as he had been able to judge of the speed of the other steamer, it appeared to be about the same as that of the Bronx. He had directed the Ocklockonee to get to the southward of the Arran. A boat was sent to her with the orders, and Flint immediately proceeded to obey them. The Bronx slowed down her engines to enable the other to gain her position; but the Arran did not seem to be willing to permit her to do this, and gave chase to her at once.

The commander of the Bronx met this change by one on his own part, and went ahead with all the speed he could get out of her. The Confederate steamer was farther to the eastward than either of the other two, and after the changes of position which Christy had brought about in speaking the Ocklockonee, the Arran was nearly southeast of both of the others. Flint went directly to the south, and Christy ran for the enemy.

All hands had been beaten to quarters on board of the Bronx, and the captain was on the bridge, watching with the most intense interest the progress of the other two vessels. It was soon apparent to him that the Ocklockonee could not get into the position to which she had been ordered under present circumstances, for the enemy was giving his whole attention to her.

"There goes a gun from the enemy!" exclaimed Mr. Amblen, as a puff of smoke rose from the forward deck of the Arran.

"The shot struck in the water," added Christy a moment later; "but the two vessels are within range. There is the first shot from the Ocklockonee! Captain Flint is not asleep."