exploding all around, and the noise is terrible. But hard luck meets
the Merrimac. A shot has broken her rudder, so she cannot be steered;
a shot has broken the chain of one of her anchors, so the anchor is
gone; some of the torpedoes will not go off, so not enough holes can
be made to sink the Merrimac quickly; the tide is sweeping her into
the channel farther than she ought to go.

[Illustration: The "Merrimac."]

The men, having done their work, lie flat on deck to avoid the shots,
and wait anxiously for the moment when the vessel shall go down. In
a few minutes the Merrimac tosses low to one side, then to the other,
then plunges, bow foremost, into the waves. Now the men are thrown
into the whirling water. But see! they manage to swim to the
life-raft, which had been fastened by a long rope to the Merrimac and
is now floating on the waves. They cling to the raft, only heads and
hands above water. They keep quiet, for the Spaniards are out in small
boats now, looking to see what damage has been done. The Spaniards do
not see our men clinging to the flat raft. So Lieutenant Hobson and
his crew stay in the water, which is very chilly in the early morning;
their teeth chatter, their limbs ache. Meanwhile day dawns beautifully
over the hills of Santiago.

An hour passes in this way. Now a steam-launch is seen coming toward
the raft. Lieutenant Hobson hails the launch, asks for the officer in
charge, and surrenders himself and his men. They are helped into the
launch, prisoners in the hands of the Spaniards. The officer is
Admiral Cervera.

Naval Cadet Powell, of the New York, performed a feat in many respects