I determined not to give them that chance, by going so close under the bank that the guns could hardly be sufficiently depressed to hit us.
As we approached the batteries to my horror a flash of red flame came out of the funnel (that fatal danger in blockade-running), on which several rockets were thrown up from the shore, and a fire was opened at where the flame had been seen.

Meanwhile we had shot far away from the place, and closed right under the batteries.

I heard the people talking; every now and then they fired shot and musketry, but I hardly heard the _whiz_ of the projectiles.

My principal anxiety was that we might get on one of the many banks so common in the Danube, and I had perhaps a _little_ fear of torpedoes, especially when we passed the mouths of the little estuaries that run into the Danube; once we just touched the ground, but thank goodness we quickly got free, and though fired at by guns and rifles, went on unhurt.

It took us exactly an hour and forty minutes to pass dangerous waters, and the early summer morning was breaking as we cleared all danger.