en so, he would not get much. Even
in the fever-heat over the disaster to the _Maine_ I did not think
there would be war; but I am no politician. Indeed, I had hardly given
the matter a serious thought when, on the 14th of May, just north of
the equator, and near the longitude of the river Amazon, I saw first a
mast, with the Stars and Stripes floating from it, rising astern as if
poked up out of the sea, and then rapidly appearing on the horizon,
like a citadel, the _Oregon!_ As she came near I saw that the great
ship was flying the signals "C B T," which read, "Are there any
men-of-war about?" Right under these flags, and larger than the
_Spray's_ mainsail, so it appeared, was the yellowest Spanish flag I
ever saw. It gave me nightmare some time after when I reflected on it
in my dreams.

[Illustration: The _Spray_ passed by the _Oregon_.]

I did not make out the _Oregon's_ signals till she passed ahead, where
I could read them better, for she was two miles away, and I had no
binoculars. When I had read her flags I hoisted the signal "No," for I
had not seen any Spanish men-of-war; I had not been looking for any.
My final signal, "Let us keep together for mutual protection," Captain
Clark did not seem to regard as necessary. Perhaps my small flags were
not made out; anyhow, the _Oregon_ steamed on with a rush, looking for
Spanish men-of-war, as I learned afterward. The _Oregon's_ great flag
was dipped beautifully three times to the _Spray's_ lowered flag as
she passed on. Both had crossed the line only a few hours before. I
pondered long that night over the probability of a war risk now coming
upon the _Spray_ after she had cleared all, or nearly all, the dangers
of the sea, but finally a strong hope mastered my fears.

On the 17th of May, the _Spray_, coming out of a storm at daylight,
made Devil's Island, two points on the lee bow, not far off. The wind
was still blowing a stiff breeze on shore. I could clearly see the
dark-gray buildings on the island as the sloop brought it abeam. No
flag or sign of life was seen on the dreary place.

Later in the day a French bark on the port tack, making for Cayenne,
hove in sight, close-hauled on the wind. She was falling to leeward
fast, The _Spray_ was also closed-hauled, and was lugging on sail to
secure an offing on the starboard tack, a heavy swell in the night
having thrown her too near the shore, and now I considered the matter
of supplicating a change of wind. I had