Fire!" He was yelling directions, inflamed by the shooting.

The drug-like smell of the smokeless powder, the dull thud of the detonations appeared to intoxicate him.

He was leaping and wringing his hands with the ardor of a war-dancer.
The gunners redoubled their activity; the shots became continuous.
"There it is!" yelled Caragol.

"They have hit it....

They have hit it!" Of all those aboard, he was the one who could least appreciate the effects of the shots for he could scarcely discern the silhouette of the submersible.