setts," "Indiana," "Oregon," "Texas," "New
York," "Marblehead," "Detroit," "Newark," "Porter," "Terror,"
"Gloucester," the repair ship "Vulcan," several despatch boats and
colliers in the bay. Two gunboats and several steamers captured at
Santiago also bore the American colors.

Such a fleet many an important port has never seen, and in New York
harbor would draw immense crowds. Here the spectacle was wasted on
unappreciative Cubans.

The bay presented a lively appearance with the innumerable little
launches and despatch boats darting about from ship to ship. Vessels
went alongside sailing colliers to have their bunkers replenished; other
ships entered or left at all hours; signals were continually flying
from the flagship; occasionally a Spanish launch bearing a flag of truce
would come down from the town, and in the midst of it all the crews of
the different men-of-war worked on in the accustomed routine, as if
peace and war, drills and fighting, were all a part of man's ordinary
existence.

Over a month ago we had sailed into this harbor with the "Marblehead";
the ship cleared for action, the crews at their loaded guns, and the
battle ensigns flying from fore and mainmast, as well as from taffrail.
This time we entered the bay with a feeling that we were to take part in
a great naval spectacle.

As soon as we joined the fleet we became amenable to fleet discipline.
All orders for routine work came from the flagship. "Quarters" were held
but twice a day instead of three times, and then they were short and,
therefore, sweet.

Each morning at eight o'clock, when a war vessel is in port, the bugler
plays "colors," while the drummer beats three rolls; those of the crew
who are under the open sky stand at attention, silent, facing aft, where
the flag is being hauled slowly to its place. At the completion of the
call all hands salute; then the work is carried on. It is a beautiful
ceremony.

Saluting the "colors" morning and evening is not merely a mark of
respect for the Government of the nation, but is an act of worship to
the God of nations--a silent prayer for guidance and care and an
expression of thankfulness.

Shortly after "colors" the morning following our arrival at Guantanamo,
orders were given to "turn to" on the ammunition. Launches and barges
from other warships came alongside, and the charges of powder and the
shells were transferred to them.

When this cargo of deadly explosive began to come aboar