creeping toward us and protesting fiercely, the blood dripping from
his mouth between curses.

"Another shot would sink her," Yarnell shouted.

"Let 'er sink, d--n 'er," said D'ri. "Wish t' God I c'u'd put my
foot through 'er bottom. When the flag goes down I wan't' go tew."

The British turned their guns; we were no longer in the smoky paths
of thundering canister. The _Niagara_ was now under fire. We
could see the dogs of war rushing at her in leashes of flame and
smoke. Our little gun-boats, urged by oar and sweep, were
hastening to the battle front. We could see their men, waist-high
above bulwarks, firing as they came. The _Detroit_ and the _Queen
Charlotte_, two heavy brigs of the British line, had run afoul of
each other. The _Niagara_, signalling for close action, bore down
upon them. Crossing the bow of one ship and the stern of the
other, she raked them with broadsides. We saw braces fly and masts
fall in the volley. The _Niagara_ sheered off, pouring shoals of
metal on a British schooner, stripping her bare. Our little boats
had come up, and were boring into the brigs. In a brief time--it
was then near three o'clock--a white flag, at the end of a
boarding-pike, fluttered over a British deck. D'ri, who had been
sitting awhile, was now up and cheering as he waved his crownless
hat. He had lent his flag, and, in the flurry, some one dropped it
overboard. D'ri saw it fall, and before we could stop him he had
leaped into the sea. I hastened to his help, tossing a rope's end
as he came up, swimming with one arm, the flag in his teeth. I
towed him to the landing-stair and helped him over. Leaning on my
shoulder, he shook out the tattered flag, its white laced with his