Signals were changing in quick succession, and boats gliding rapidly to and fro.
Before daybreak the huge surf-boats had been drawn down from their moorings, and with long hempen hawsers attached to the ships and steamers.
The descent was about to be made.

The ominous cloud which had hung dark and threatening over the shores of Mexico was about to burst upon that devoted land.

But where?
The enemy could not tell, and were preparing to receive us on the adjacent shore.
The black cylinder began to smoke, and the murky cloud rolled down upon the water, half obscuring the fleet.

Here and there a broad sail, freshly unfurled, hung stiffly from the yard; the canvas, escaping from its gasket fastenings, had not yet been braced round to the breeze.
Soldiers were seen standing along the decks; some in full equipments, clutching the bright barrels of their muskets, while others were buckling on their white belts, or cramming their cartouche-boxes.
Officers, in sash and sword, paced the polished quarter-decks, or talked earnestly in groups, or watched with eager eyes the motions of the various ships.
Unusual sounds were heard on all sides.

The deep-toned chorus of the sailor, the creaking of the capstan, and the clanking of the iron cogs; the "heave-ho!" at the windlass, and the grating of the huge anchor-chain, as link after link rasped through the rusty ring--sounds that warned us to make ready for a change.
In the midst of these came the brisk rolling of a drum.