The ship rolled easily in the long swell.

It was soothing and restful, and we felt quite reconciled to life in the navy.

We almost forgot that we were on an engine of war; that there was enough ammunition below to blow up several "Maine's," and that we were cruising in the enemy's country.
The men talked cheerfully of home, pursuits, and pleasures, for it was too fine, too bright, to be depressed.
Finally the sun went down in a blaze of glory, dropping suddenly into the sea as it is wont to do in the tropics.
In a few minutes it was dark.

In these latitudes there is practically no twilight; the sun jumps into his full strength in the morning, and quenches his glory in the sea before one realizes the day is gone.
Soon after dark the lookouts began to report lights, and before long we found ourselves steaming into a fine harbor, which we learned was Port Antonio.
A delightful feeling of security stole over us.

We were at anchor in a friendly port, the inhabitants of which spoke the same tongue as we did and sympathized with us.