The following days till Sunday were spent in unloading powder and shell.  The six and eight-inch charges of powder and the shell were lifted by hand and slid down chutes to the barges alongside.  To handle the powder and shell for the thirteen-inch guns, steam was called into service; the thirteen-inch charges being lowered into the waiting boat, by the aid of the cargo boom and steam winch.

This work was hard and the heat trying, but it was accomplished with good grace, for we were glad to get rid of the dangerous stuff.

Sunday, after the usual inspection, several visiting lists were arranged, the most popular being that for the “Oregon.”  We all wanted to inspect that wonderful ship.  Visiting is generally conducted on Sunday or after dark.  The word is passed for those who wish to visit a certain ship to “lay aft and report to the officer of the deck.”  The party, all in clean clothes, are taken to the vessel designated and lined up.  After being counted they are allowed to go forward, where they yarn to their heart’s content until the word is given by the boatswain’s mate for them to muster aft again.

The “visiting party” to Uncle Sam’s bulldog was cordially received and shown all over.  The great battleship was as clean and neat as a new pin.  She looked as if she had just come out of her builders’ hands.  Paint work spotless, brass work shining, engines fairly dazzling in their brightness.  The crew contented and full of enthusiasm for their ship and commander—­gallant Captain Clark!

We saw the guns that helped to lay low Cervera’s splendid fleet and we saw “the men behind the guns.”

Our attention was called to a Jacky sewing on a blue shirt.

“Do you see that man over there?” said our guide.

We answered “Yes.”

“Well, that’s the chap that blew up one of the torpedo boats.”

“Is that so?  Tell us about it.”  We gazed open-mouthed at the gunner as he sat cross-legged on the deck, sewing with all his might.

“Yes, that’s the chap.  You see, the Spaniard was coming in our direction, and coming like greased lightning.  The six-pounders on the superstructure had not been able to stop her, and things began to be interesting—­”

“Yes,” we gasped, breathlessly, as he stopped to light his pipe.

“Well, as I was saying, the blooming torpedo boat came nearer and nearer, and did not seem to mind the hail of six-pounders any more than a duck does the rain.  I dunno why, for she had no protection that a sixer would not penetrate.

“It got to be blamed exciting, when the officer of the division said to that feller over there, who was a captain of an eight-inch rifle, ’Try your hand at it.’

“Bill said, ‘Aye, aye, sir, give me time and I’ll plunk her sure.’  All this time the sneaking craft was coming nearer and nearer.  Bill adjusted his sight and looked and looked, but still did not fire.