The three cheers were rousers, and the Noank gained a point by it. Lieutenant Tracy had been using his glass just then, and he angrily roared out:—
"Fletcher, my boy! If they haven't challenged us! Give 'em a broadside! Hurrah! They mean to show fight!"
Good gunners were those mariners of the Arran. Well sent was that broadside; and in a moment more Captain Avery was leaning over his port bulwark, and was making a somewhat serious examination.
"Hurrah!" he shouted in his turn. "So much for ice-fender timbers and planking. Two shot struck fair and didn't go through. Up-na-tan, let fly! Show 'em the difference!"
The Manhattan did not obey at once. He was sighting, sighting, sighting, for almost a minute, and the men at the broadside guns were following his example.
"Fire!" shouted the captain, and even then there was an irritating pause.
THE FIGHT WITH THE ARRAN.
"'Fire!' shouted the captain, and even then there was an irritating pause."
"Ugh!" grunted the red man, at last. "Ole chief wait and see brig bowsprit. Send shot behind it."