ers.

At last all is ready, and the division officers report to the Executive
Officer, who in turn reports to the Captain.

The flag-ship signals the order for the formation for attack, and then
at full speed the vessels dash forward. Signals follow signals, and the
ships go through swift and graceful evolutions, until the Admiral's
programme has been fully carried out. Then the vessel that was detached
to represent the enemy lowers over her side a pyramidal target of white
canvas with a black spot painted in the centre. She steams back to her
position in line. Now the vessels in turn glide slowly along at a
distance of 1600 or 1800 yards from the target, and the thunder of great
guns fairly shakes the heavens, while the massive steel projectiles
strike the water around the target, and thrash it into glaring geysers
of milk-white foam. It would be a sad time for any hostile ship if she
lay where that target is.

At last the target practice is over, while a great cloud of gray smoke
drifting slowly off to leeward, and the signal "Secure" at the
flag-ship's yard-arm, are all that remain of the recent scene of action.
Once again signals direct the formation of the fleet in double column,
and like some giant duck leading a flock of monster ducklings across the
sea the _New York_ swims away, followed by her steel companions. This
time the fleet steers for a harbor. Again the red and blue flags blossom
at the _New York_'s yard-arm like the magic flowers in the last scene of
a fairy play.

"Two thirty-seven," reads the cadet from the signal-book; "anchor in
column."

With the precision of carriages driven to a church door at a wedding the
big ships and the little torpedo-boats stop at their proper stations,
and the hoarse rumble of cables through hawse-holes tell that the
anchors have gone down. All but three--for see, there go the three
torpedo-boats, spinning around on their heels, and gliding out of the
harbor as silently and as swiftly as mice. There is to be a torpedo-boat
attack. This will be made under cover of the darkness, and the anchored
ships will strive, by means of their search-lights, to detect the
assailants. If the torpedo-boat succeeds in approaching a certain ship
within a given distance without being seen, she is credited with having
sunk or disabled that ship, for that is what she would do in time of
war.

[Illustration: FIRING FROM THE MILITARY TOPS.]

The night is intensely dark, and the blindin