To Cuba 65 



and on their flanks the gray hulls of the warships 

 surged through the blue water. We had every va- 

 riety of craft to guard us, from the mighty battleship 

 and swift cruiser to the converted yachts and the 

 frail, venomous-looking torpedo boats. The war- 

 ships watched with ceaseless vigilance by day and 

 night. When a sail of any kind appeared, instantly 

 one of our guardians steamed toward it. Ordi- 

 narily, the torpedo boats were towed. Once a strange 

 ship steamed up too close, and instantly the nearest 

 torpedo boat was slipped like a greyhound from the 

 leash, and sped across the water toward it ; but the 

 stranger proved harmless, and the swift, delicate, 

 death-fraught craft returned again. 



It was very pleasant, sailing southward through 

 the tropic seas toward the unknown. We knew not 

 whither we were bound, nor what we were to do; 

 but we believed that the nearing future held for us 

 many chances of death and hardship, of honor and 

 renown. If we failed, we would share the fate of all 

 who fail ; but we were sure that we would win, that 

 we should score the first great triumph in a mighty 

 world-movement. At night we looked at the new 

 stars, and hailed the Southern Cross when at last we 

 raised it above the horizon. In the daytime we 

 drilled, and in the evening we held officers' school ; 

 but there was much time when we had little to do, 

 save to scan the wonderful blue sea and watch the 



