“Cast loose and provide!”

The hitherto motionless figures waiting at the battery spring into activity.  Hands move nimbly at the training and elevating gear.  Breech-blocks are thrown open, sights adjusted, the first and second captains take their places, the former with the firing lanyard in readiness for use at his gun; then there is silence again as the officer in charge of the division holds up one hand as a signal that all is prepared.  Then comes the word to load.

In a twinkling the ammunition hoists are creaking with their burdens and boxes of shell appear on deck.  These are quickly lifted to the guns and taken in hand by the loaders.  The latter do their part of the general work thoroughly and with despatch, and presently the breech-blocks are swung to and the battery is ready for action.

In the meantime there has been systematic preparation in other parts of the auxiliary cruiser.  Down in the sick bay aft, the surgeon and his assistants have made ready for their grewsome task.  Cases of glittering instruments have been opened, lint and bandages and splints are in their proper places, and the apothecary and bayman are getting the cots in trim for instant use.

In the fire room the firemen and coal-passers are heaping up the furnaces, a couple of men hurry away to attend to the fire mains, and, standing by in readiness for duty, are the engineers and crew of the off watch.  The carpenters are ready below with shot-hole plugs, and everywhere throughout the ship can be found officers and sailors and marines and men of the “black gang,” each at his proper station in readiness for the word to begin action.

But that word does not come.  Instead a stentorian command is heard from the bridge: 

“Secure!”

Laughing and joking, the crew of the “Yankee” hasten to restore the ship to its former state.  All this has been a drill, the drill known as general quarters.  It is the first time it has been held under service conditions, and when the captain steps down from the bridge and says in his brisk, authoritative way, “Very well done, very well done indeed,” the boys of the cruiser are satisfied and happy.

Twice during the night the drill is repeated.  There is no grumbling because of disturbed sleep, for a rumor has gone about the ship that Spanish vessels have been seen off the coast, and even the cranks on board admit that drills and exercises are necessary.

Sea watches have been set, and the rules followed when under way are now operative.  A brief explanation of the routine attending the first hours of a naval day may help to make succeeding descriptions more plain.  The ship’s daily life commences with the calling of the ship’s cook at 3:30 a.m.  The ordinary mess cooks are awakened at four o’clock, so that coffee can be prepared for the watch.  Coffee is always served with hard-tack to the watch coming on deck at four.  It is all the men get until breakfast at 7:30, and a great deal of work must be accomplished before that time.