The mist was hanging lower, thicker, whiter, and the morning gun from Fort Griswold had long since announced that in the opinion of the gunners the sun had risen.
"Hullo! What?" exclaimed Captain Avery, springing to his feet. "Another? They don't fire a shotted gun jest for sunrise."
His practical ears had told him that this report was not made by a blank cartridge. What could it mean?
"Gunner saw lobster ship," said Up-na-tan, quietly.
Away he went, then, toward his long eighteen, followed by Coco and Guert and several sailors.
"Captain Avery," he called back, "ole chief get gun ready. S'pose fort gunner no fool."
"Ready with her!" said the captain. "Ready! Every gun! Silence, all! This fog's a friend of ours."
The Indian's understanding of the shotted cannon was correct. The sharp-eyed lookout upon the rampart had detected something more than fog in the general whiteness which concealed the sea, and the nearest gunner had at once put in a nine-pound ball on top of his signal cartridge.
"That brig has crept in to watch for the Noank," they said to each other. "Let's give her a pill."
The pill went well enough for a warning to the Boxer that her sly creeping in had been discovered, but it did no damage. Probably its best use was the response it provoked from the too hasty gunners of the Boxer. For the brig to fire at the fort was mere bravado, of course; but her commander was nettled.