All was apparent confusion, but was in reality perfect discipline.

Soon boxes of shell were ready by the guns, but the order "load" had not yet been given.
The triangular target was then lowered over the side and cast loose.

In a few minutes the six-pounders on the spar deck began to bark.

"Getting the range, I guess," said "Hod," who had sneaked over from the powder division to get a look at the target.
"Pretty near it," replied "Stump," as a shot splashed close to the triangular piece of canvas.
"Here comes Scully," some one whispered; "now we'll have a chance." "The captain says fire when ready, at 1,500 yards," said Scully, saluting Mr.Greene, the officer of the division.

"Captain says, sir, instruct your men to shoot at the top of the roll, and a little over, rather than under the target," continued he, saluting again.
"Port battery take stations for exercise, load, set your sights at 1,500 yards, and when ready, fire." Mr.Greene's orders came sharp and clear; there was never any misunderstanding of them.
Most of us of Number Eight's gun crew had never stood near a big gun when it spoke, and most of us dreaded it and felt inclined to run away out of ear-shot.