. The southerners, a story of the Civil War . UTTER E left Peyton in the cutter of the Metacomet. The men who had been de-tailed to man the boat had tumbledover the side in such eagerness thatthey almost fell to their places on thethwarts. Oars were broken out atonce, Peyton grasped the yoke-lines inhis hand, the boat swept around underthe vigorous impetus of the stoutarms, passed the stern of the Mefa-comet, darted between the stern of theHartford and the bow of the Rich-mond, her next astern, ranged alongthe starboard side of the Brooklyn, andentered the zone of roar of the discharg
. The southerners, a story of the Civil War . UTTER E left Peyton in the cutter of the Metacomet. The men who had been de-tailed to man the boat had tumbledover the side in such eagerness thatthey almost fell to their places on thethwarts. Oars were broken out atonce, Peyton grasped the yoke-lines inhis hand, the boat swept around underthe vigorous impetus of the stoutarms, passed the stern of the Mefa-comet, darted between the stern of theHartford and the bow of the Rich-mond, her next astern, ranged alongthe starboard side of the Brooklyn, andentered the zone of roar of the discharge was absolutely con-tinuous. The air was filled with shot and shell. Thescreaming was like the sound of a thousand water all about them was lashed to froth, beateninto foam, by grape-shot, canister, shrapnel, and bitsof iron from exploding shell. Close as they neces-sarily were to the ships, the tremendous broad-sidesfrom the decks passed only a few feet above their was a situation to appall the stoutest heart. They 341. THE SOUTHERNERS ^seemed to be floating on a sea of boiling water cano-pied by a heaven of fire. Their position was one ofhorrible peril. One shot striking the little boat andthey would be lost. Between the triple cross-fire fromtheir own ships, the fort, and the Confederate squadron,it did not seem humanly possible that they could es-cape. Peyton had pulled about half the length of theHartford before he discovered that no flag was flying. Oars! he called, instantly, and as the men stoppedrowing, he dropped the yoke-lines, stepped forward,and picked up the boat flag from where it lay in its casealong the bottom of the boat, came back to the stern-sheets, uncased it deliberately, shook out its foldscoolly, and then stepped it aft in the socket pro-vided. He did not do this a moment too soon. Theforward pivot-gun on the Hartford, of which he wasright abreast, had been turned on him. Seeing onlya boatful of men in the smoke, ignorant that it w
Size: 920px × 2718px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bo, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookpublishernewyorkscribner
