A faction fight's nothing to it.

Look, yer honor, look! There's smoke curling up from a hatchway of the big ship.
If they haven't set her afire!" It was as Tim said.

A cloud of black smoke was rising from the Dutch fifty-gun frigate.

A wild yell of triumph broke from the Mahrattas.
The fire of their guns upon her redoubled, while that from the man-of-war died away, as the crew were called off to assist in extinguishing the flames.

Now the smaller boats pressed still more closely round her, and a rain of missiles was poured through the open ports.