eir native idiom, instinctively
sought each other out, keeping near together in a fraternal silence.
Their passive heroism was in many instances more admirable than that of
the men of war, who were able to return blow for blow. All the officers
of the different fleets, seated near them, had at their disposition
cannon, ram, torpedo, great speed and aerial telegraphy. These valorous
muleteers of the sea defied the enemy in defenseless boats without
wireless and without cannons. Sometimes when searching all the men of
the crew, not a single revolver would be found among them, and yet
these brave fellows were daring the greatest adventures with
professional fatalism, and trusting to luck.

In the social groups of the cafe the captains would sometimes relate
their encounters on the sea, the unexpected appearance of a submarine,
the torpedo missing aim a few yards away, the flight at full speed
while being shelled by their pursuers. They would flame up for an
instant upon recalling their danger, and then relapse into indifference
and fatalism.

"If I've got to die by drowning," they would always conclude, "it would
be useless for me to try to avoid it."

And they would hasten their departure in order to return a month later
transporting a regular fortune in their vessel, completely alone,
preferring free and wary navigation to the journey in convoy, slipping
along from island to island and from coast to coast in order to outwit
the submersibles.

They were far more concerned about the state of their ships, that for
more than a year had not been cleaned, than about the dangers of
navigation. The captains of the great liners lamented their luxurious
staterooms converted into dormitories for the troops, their polished
decks that had been turned into stables, their dining-room where they
used to sit among people in dress suits and low-neck gowns, which had
now to be sprayed with every class of disinfectant in order to repel
the invasion of vermin, and the animal odors of so many men and beasts
crowded together.

The decline of the ships appeared to be reflected in the bearing of
their captains, more careless than before, worse dressed, with the
military slovenliness of the trench-fighter, and with calloused hands
as badly cared for as those of a stevedore.

Among the naval men also there were some who had completely neglected
their appearance. These were the commanders of "chaluteros," little
ocean fishing steamers armed