tore its way screaming over the _Raleigh_, quickly followed by a second,
which fell astern of the _Olympia_ and _Raleigh_. The Spaniards had
discovered the approach of the squadron. The _Raleigh_, _Concord_, and
_Boston_ replied; all the shots being fired with remarkable accuracy.

One may imagine the consternation in Manila when the boom of those guns
rolled in from the bay, for none could mistake its meaning. Women and
children ran to the churches and knelt in frenzied prayer; men dashed to
and fro, not knowing what to do, while the Spanish soldiers, who had not
believed the American ships could ever pass the harbor torpedoes and
mines, were in a wild panic when they learned that the seemingly
impossible had been done. To add to the terror, rumors spread that the
ferocious natives were gathering at the rear of the city to rush in and
plunder and kill.

When at last the morning light appeared in the sky, the Americans saw
tens of thousands of people crowded along the shore, gazing in terror
out on the bay where rode the hostile fleets, soon to close in deadly
battle. Commodore Dewey coolly scanned the hostile vessels, and grasping
the whole situation, as may be said, at a glance, led in the attack on
the enemy.

While approaching Cavité two mines exploded directly in front of the
_Olympia_. The roar was tremendous and the water was flung hundreds of
feet in the air. Without swerving an inch or halting, Dewey signalled to
the other vessels to pay no attention to the torpedoes, but to steam
straight ahead. It was virtually a repetition of the more emphatic
command of Farragut in Mobile Bay, uttered thirty-four years before.

The batteries on shore let fly at the ships, and the first reply was