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Running the Blockade: Pilot

At length, they were opposite the mouth of Cape Fear River. "Better cast a lead, Captain, to find the bottom," whispered the Pilot.

A muttered order down the engine-room tube, and The Banshee slowed down, and then stopped.

The lead was cast, and the report was "Sixteen fathoms sandy bottom with black specks." "Not far enough in, and too far southward," said the Pilot. "We must get away from that bottom before we head in shore."

At the end of an hour, the lead was cast again, and the Pilot whispered to the steersman, "All right, we are opposite the mouth of the river.

Starboard, and go easy."

The ship crept along slowly in the darkness.

Not a sound was heard except the beat of the paddle floats. Suddenly, the Pilot grasped the Captain's arm. "There's one of them, on the starboard bow," he whispered.

A moment afterward, a long, low, black ship was seen, not a hundred yards away, lying still on the water. The Banshee drifted by as noiselessly as possible. Not a movement was seen on the patrol boat, and, in a half-hour, it was lost in the darkness.

Not long afterwards came the whispered alarm, "Steamer on the port bow." Another cruiser was close by. "Hard-a-port," said the Captain to the steersman, and The Banshee swung around, barely missing the cruiser. Hardly had this second ship been passed, before a third one loomed up, dead ahead, steaming slowly across the bows of The Banshee. "Stop her," was the quick order down the engine-room tube, and The Banshee lay dead on the water. "Instead of going round those blockaders, we are going through them," said the Pilot to the Captain. "Our only hope is that they will not recognize us, and will take us for one of them."

Day was not far off, and The Banshee must make haste to get inside the cordons of the blockade. She was headed straight for the white line of surf on the shore. As much speed as possible was made, and all eyes were strained for any familiar landmarks.

Daylight now streaked the East. Fort Fisher was some distance off, and the gunboats were still on the watch for blockade-runners. In a half hour, The Banshee would be safe, or else captured.

Six or seven gunboats appeared out of the mist, and headed for the blockade-runner, to discover her identity. "Full steam ahead, and a race for the fort," cried the Captain.

Displaying her flag, she ran full steam toward the protecting guns of the fort. It was now a question of speed and distance, for The Banshee was discovered, and her purpose was known! Boom! came the roar of guns across the waters. Splash!

Splash! fell the shells, uncomfortably near the runner, which was carrying a cargo of ammunition.

But Fort Fisher was now awake, and the guns began to roar. Every minute brought The Banshee nearer to safety, and the gunboats into greater danger. The guns from the fort rained shells over The Banshee, and into the sides of her pursuers. With a sullen roar, and a parting shot, the gunboats drew off, and the blockade-runner glided under the walls of the fort.

In and out ran The Banshee, trip after trip, bringing in guns, ammunition, and medicines, and carrying out cotton and tobacco. Her daring crew had many narrow escapes before the war came to an end.