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.