"Henry's got the plan, and we're
goin' to cut through like a wedge druv through a log. Something's got to
give. Up, Paul, with your gun! Here she goes ag'in!"
The battle suddenly burst forth afresh and with greater violence. All the
American twelve pounders were now in a row at the head of the fleet, and
one after another, from right to left and then from left to right and over
and over again, they began to fire with tremendous rapidity and accuracy
at the schooner. All the best gunners were around the twelve pounders. If
one fell, another took his place. Many of them were stripped to the waist,
and their own fire lighted up their tan faces and their brown sinewy arms
as they handled rammer and cannon shot.
The fire of the cannon was supported by that of scores and scores of
rifles, and the enemy replied with furious energy. But the supply fleet
was animated now by a single purpose. The shiftless one's simile of a
wedge driven into a log was true. No attention was paid to anybody in the
hostile boats and canoes. They could fire unheeded. Every American cannon
and rifle sent its load straight at the schooner. All the upper works of
the vessel were shot away. The men of Alvarez could not live upon its
decks; they were even slain at the port holes by the terrific rifle fire;
cannon shot, grape shot, and rifle bullets searched every nook and corner
of the vessel, and her desperate crew, one by one, began to leap into the
water and make for the shores.
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