"Will the Spaniards give up?" asked "Dye."
Tommy hesitated before replying. It was a brief lull and we were resting at the gun. The crew, grimy, dirty, battle-stained and tired, was glad to lean against the side of the deck or a convenient stanchion. Tommy's long service in the regular navy as apprentice and seaman made his opinions official, and we were always glad to listen to his explanations.
"Will the Spaniards give up?" repeated "Dye."
"Yes, and no," replied the first captain thoughtfully. "You see, it's this way. Those dagoes are not fools by any means. They have selected good places for their batteries, and they know earthworks are hard to destroy. They aren't like the old-style stone forts that could be knocked to pieces in no time. When a shell, even a thirteen-incher, hits a mound of earth it tears up the dirt and spoils the look of the parapet, but it really doesn't do much harm. To completely ruin an earthwork battery, you must dismantle every gun in it. And that's pretty hard to do. Mark my words, those fellows will give us a shot of defiance after we quit."
"What's the idea of all this bombarding then?" asked "Stump." "We'd be much better 'caulking off,' seems to me."
"And think what it costs the Government," I suggested. "The cost of the projectiles and the wear and tear to guns and ships must be something enormous."
Tommy's answer was drowned in the thundering roar of the "New York's" battery, which opened fire just then a short distance away, but it was evident he agreed with me. A moment later Number Eight went into action once more, and we worked the breechloader without cessation until the conclusion of the bombardment, which came a half hour later.
The fortifications ashore had entirely ceased firing, and at ten o'clock a signal to stop bombarding appeared on the flagship. It was obeyed with reluctance, and it was evident the crews of the various ships were anxious and eager to continue. As the fleet drew off there was a puff of smoke in one corner of Punta Gorda battery and a shell whizzed over the "Massachusetts." A second shot came from one of the earthworks, and still another from Punta Gorda; then the firing ceased again.
"Didn't I tell you so?" quietly remarked Tommy. "The beggars ain't licked yet."
"But they got a taste of Uncle Sam's strength," said Flagg.