A WOUNDED COMMANDER The fort had become harmless so far as the use of its guns was concerned; but the channel of the Grand Pass was hardly a quarter of a mile in width, and even twenty soldiers with muskets could pick off the men on the deck of the Bronx.

Christy's orders required him to capture the steamer that was fitting out in the bay, and he intended to do it.
The order to weigh the anchor and cast off the spring was given, and the commander sent for the chief engineer.
"We are within a mile of the fort, Mr.Sampson, and I mean to run by it.
We shall be exposed to the fire of musketry for about half a mile, and the quicker we make this distance, the less the danger to the men," said the commander, when the engineer presented himself.

"We will not get under way till you have all the steam you need to give the steamer her best speed." "I understand the situation perfectly, Captain Passford, and I will report when we are ready to go ahead in the manner you desire," replied Mr.Sampson, as he saluted the captain and hastened below.
"The officer in command of that fort is not idle," said Mr.Flint, who had been using his glass very industriously since the firing ceased.
"The soldiers are busy setting up the guns again, or some of them." "We will soon stop that," added Christy.

"Give them another shot from the midship gun, Mr.Flint." The gunner was again fortunate in his aim, and it was seen that the solid shot cleaned off the carriage upon which the soldiers were at work.

With the aid of the glass it was found that two of the men had been killed or wounded.