steamer was put about, and we stood further out, until shore and ships were alike lost to view. The disappointment of the passengers, who had been granted a mere glimpse of the land that to them was home, was considerable; but none could doubt the prudence of delaying our entrance into Charleston harbor until night should assist us in eluding the hostile war-vessels. There was no going to bed on board the Bonny-bell that night; we all kept to the deck, eagerly gazing over the sparkling and phosphorescent sea, glimmering and glancing with St. Elmo's fires. There was a pale young moon- -a mere sickle of silver -in the sky; and objects were so faintly discernible that the utmost caution was necessary. The second mate took the helm, while the first mate superintended the almost constant heaving of the lead, and the captain and pilot stood on the forecastle, noting the replies of the sailor, chanted as they were in a shrill monotone, in accordance with old custom.

"Ten fathoms sheer! By the deep, nine! By the mark, seven!" called out the leadsman, from the chains.

"Water allers does shoal here, cap. I know the channel, though, as well as I know my parlor ashore, at Nantucketat Savannah, I mean," said the pilot, with some confusion. "By the mark, five!" was the next call.

Captain Pritchard here grew uneasy. He did not pretend to equal the pilot in local knowledge, but he was too good a seaman not to take alarm at the abrupt lessening of the depth of water. He gave orders to reduce the speed, and we moved but slowly on, the lead going as before.

"Are you sure, Mr. Foster, you are not mistaken? It seems to me the water shoals at the rate of a fathom for every hundred yards traversed. We may have missed the Swash, left Moultrie to leeward and got into the network of sandbanks near. Hilloa! what's that ahead of us? Boats, as I'm

a sinner!"

AGROUND.

At the same moment the pilot thrust his hand rapidly into the breast of his coat, drew out something and flung it on the deck, where it instantly began to sputter and hiss, and directly afterwards the lurid glare of a blue light flashed through the darkness, showing funnel and rigging, the pale faces of the passengers, the narrow channel of fretted water and the sandy islets on either bow. Nor was this all, for by the ghastly light we could distinguish two dark objects on the foamy sea ahead of us-boats full of men, pulling swiftly but noiselessly towards us, and no doubt, with muffled oars.

"By the mark, two! Shoal water-we're aground!" cried an ill-boding voice, that of the sailor in the chains; and the Bonny-bell came suddenly to a check, throwing most of the landsmen from their feet, while the ominous scrooping of the keel told that the steamer was aground. A loud clamor instantly arose, many voices shouting at once in tones of inquiry, dismay, or command; but even above this turmoil arose the hurrah of those who manned the boats, and who now came dashing up, pulling and cheering like madmen.

"Treachery! treachery!" cried several of the passengers and crew, pointing to where the pilot stood beside the bluelight that his own perfidious hand had kindled, while already the man-of-war's men, for such we could not doubt them to be, began to scramble on board.

CAPTURED.

"The Yankee bloodhounds, sure enough; but you shall not live to share the prize money!" exclaimed Pritchard, snatching up a handspike, and aiming a blow at Mr. Zack Foster that would have been a lethal stroke, had not that astute person swerved aside, receiving the weapon on his left shoulder. Our men set up a faint cheer, and a shot was fired, luckily without effect. But resistance would have been mad

ness, so thickly did the American sailors crowd up our gangway, their pistols and cutlasses ready for the fray, while among them were nine or ten marines, well armed with musket and bayonet, and who drove the Bonny-bell's crew below hatches without any serious show of fighting. The federal lieutenant in command, to do him justice, seemed anxious that no needless violence should be used; and while proclaiming the vessel a prize to the boats of the United States war-brig Dacotah, he yet restrained the fury of that precious guide, Mr. Zack Foster, who had recovered from the effects of his knock-down blow, drawn a bowie-knife, and rushed upon Pritchard, who was struggling in the hands of his captors.

Gently, sir," said the lieutenant; "gently, Quartermaster Fitch. These caged birds are under Uncle Sam's protection, and I cannot allow any ill-usage of my prisoners. Do you hear me, sir?"

A REVOLUTION.

"Quartermaster!" exclaimed poor Captain Pritchard, as his wrists were thrust into the hand-cuffs. "You don't mean that that double-dyed villain, that Judas of a pilot, is a Yankee petty officer, after all! I wish I'd only guessed the truth a few hours back, and-if I swung for it—I'd have chucked the spy overboard as I would 'a mangy puppy!"

The lieutenant made no answer, but ordered the captain and mates to be sent below, and proceeded at once to seize the steamer's papers, to place the passengers under arrest, and to take steps for getting the Bonny-bell off the sand-bank. He then compelled the engineer to set the machinery at work, and we ran down, under the skillful pilotage of Mr. Fitch, to Edisto Island; in which anchorage we came to our moorings, under the guns of the Dacotah, and within a short distance of several other vessels of the blockading squadron."

THE BATTLE-FIELD.

Ir the battle field, in the might of its murderous rattle, is grand and terrific, when the lull comes, when the excitement is over, it is equally disgusting, sickening and heart-rending. Here many of the brave soldiers lay as they had met their death. In one part of the battle-field of Antietam, in a large cornfield, just at the edge of a wood, where the rebels appeared to have suffered the most, their dead lay so thick that their dark forms, as an officer remarked, "lay like flies in a sugar bowl." A rifle-pit, which was charged upon by a Pennsylvania regiment, contained heaps of dead lying just as they had fallen-one upon the other. In a ravine three rebels had met their death apparently while eating their breakfast. A plate lay before them with food upon it, containing a spoon, and around them lay the scattered fragments of a shell which had doubtless exploded in their midst, taking off the top of the head of one, and giving death wounds also to the others.

It is a sorrowful sight that one sees in such a place. A hospital on the battle-field comprises all that is terrible in war-broken arms and legs, bones crushed and pulverized, flesh torn into shreds, eyes shot out, fingers shot off-a place of groans, of agony, of death-most merciful of deliverers-o' bloody tables and amputations, of heroic endurance, and strong natures grappling with great sufferings. The surgeons and nurses worked assiduously. Water for thirsty lips, blackened with gunpowder; stimulants for exhausted natures; bandages and dressings for flesh wounds; and the knife for desperate cases.

Stretched on straw, in front of a barn door, lay a Massachusetts soldier--clear complexion, glossy and luxuriant hair and beard, a nose exquisitely chiseled, an eye black as the raven's wing and sparkling as a carbuncle—a man that would at once attract attention and admiration for the manly beauty of the face and the fine proportion of the body. His brother knelt beside him, smoothing back his hair and clasping his already

stiffening hand. No words were spoken and no tears shed. Turning his head and fixing his gaze upon the sky, the dying soldier lay silent, gasping, the muscles about the mouth contracted, the nerves quivering with pain. Presently the color faded from the lips, the face whitened till it looked as pure and clear as marble, the eyes became dull and staring, a shudder passed through the frame, and the spirit of the patriot and Christian stood revealed in the clear radiance of eternity. The agony was passed. The surviving brother, having seen the body placed in a position where he could recover it, shouldered his musket, and with heavy feet and heart, moved slowly forward to resume his place in the ranks, and his position in front of danger. This was but one of a hundred equally touching incidents. Yet there was a wonderful buoyancy of spirit among the wounded. They talked with great animation of the part they had taken in the fight of the morn ing, of the glorious conduct of their regiments and brigades, and made light of their wounds as an almost inevitable consequence, and from which they would speedily recover.

It is strange what a difference there is in the composition of human bodies, with reference to the rapidity with which change goes on after death. Several bodies of rebels strewed the ground on the bank, in the vicinity of the bridge. They fought behind trees, and fence-rail and stone-heap barricades, as many a bullet-mark in these defenses amply attested; but all that availed not to avert death from these poor creatures. They had become frightfully discolored in the face and much swollen; but there was one young man with his face so lifelike, and even his eyes so bright, it seemed almost impossible that he could be dead. It was a lovely-looking corpse. He was a young man, not twenty-five, the soft, unshaven brown beard hardly asserting yet the fullness of the owner's manhood. The features were too small, and the character of the face of too small and delicate an order to answer the requirements of masculine beauty. In death his eye was the clearest blue, and would not part with its surpassingly gentle, amiable,