The squadron then slowly proceeded in the direction of Manila. It was a sultry evening, and the yellow moon paved the waves with a pathway of gold, that seemed like a glorious avenue to victory.
Fearing that they might come upon the enemy at any moment, the men were posted at their guns, and, with the greatest quietness, the fleet steamed stealthily forward. The lights on all the ships were put out, save the one at the stern, and so the squadron slipped into the bay, each moment dreading a challenge from the strongly-fortified batteries that the Americans had been taught to believe were located at every point along the entrance.
The speed was now increased to eight knots; for the Commodore wished to be as far inside as possible before his presence was discovered.
Through the dangerous channels, mined with death-hurling torpedoes, swept the silent squadron, grim and spectre-like. Well did the Americans know the dangers of this undertaking; and few there were that did not momentarily expect some exploding mine to hurl them into eternity.
Then Corregidor Island, with its lofty lighthouse, came within view, and the ships swept into the chief channel, known as the Boca Grande.
A Battery at the Corner of the Old Fortifications, Manila; Facing the Bay.
The Commodore, having so far failed to discover the presence of the enemy, naturally concluded that the Spanish fleet was lying at Cavité, where it would have the advantage of the protection of the forts and the shore-batteries.