ion with
Tukuran was suddenly interrupted, whereupon we hauled in several miles
of cable, and coming upon the fault, cut it out and "spoke" Tukuran. By
this time it was so late that the Signal Corps realized it would be
impossible to sight the buoy at Flecha Point that night, though it
was then but fifteen knots away, and so we lay to until morning.

As it was out of the question for the heavy cable to hang pendent from
the stern of the ship all night at the mercy of the propeller; and as
the three buoys were in use, there was one thing only to be done, and
that was to fasten the cable to a small boat, with enough men to keep
the craft bailed of water. It was a more hazardous proceeding than it
sounds, for had a heavy squall come up, the boat, with nearly a ton
of cable fastened to it, would surely have sunk. But notwithstanding
this, one of the civilian cable experts, the able cable seaman,
and three natives spent a most uncomfortable night afloat.

Before leaving the ship, the Americans joked about their possible
fate, as Americans will, while the natives, on going down the gangway,
crossed themselves and commended their souls to the Virgin, each race
brave and stout-hearted in its own fashion. To be sure, they carried
with them life-preservers and signals in case of accident, while the
ship stayed as near the little twinkling lights on the small boat as
possible, like some big mother hen hovering over her only chick.

The next morning the buoy at Flecha Point was picked up, the splice
made, and the journey to Zamboanga continued. On the afternoon of
February 21st, after making the final splice twelve miles out,
we sailed into the harbour, to learn that the cable was working
successfully in every detail, and that the natives of the town were
overjoyed to be in communication with the world. The great event was
celebrated on board by a jolly dinner, to which many officers from
shore were bidden, after which we sat up on the quarter-deck until
very late, exchanging home news and gossip some six or seven weeks old,
while a round and red tropic moon hung in the heavens like a Japanese
lantern, and the torchlights of innumerable fishing smacks bobbed
up and down, as the natives speared for fish in the dark waters of
the bay.

The next morning was Washington's Birthday, in honour of which the
ship was dressed, and, more wonderful still, a holiday declared
for all hands aboard, the first one since leaving Manila, This was