We had hardly time to catch our breath when the order "Abandon ship" was heard. Immediately there was a scurry of feet, and a rush for the upper deck; but some stayed below to carry ship's bread and canned meats to the boats--two cases of bread and two cases of meat for the large boats, and one case of each for the smaller. The crews and passengers of each boat gathered near it. Every man had been assigned to a boat either as crew or passenger, and when the order "abandon ship" was given, every one knew instantly where to go for refuge. Though we had already gone through this "fire drill" and "abandon ship" (one always followed the other), it had then been done in peaceful waters and in a perfunctory way. Now that we were entering "the theatre of war," we felt the seriousness of it all, and realized that what was now a mere drill might become a stern reality. The order "Secure" was given; the hose was reeled up, the ports opened, and the provisions returned to their places in hold and store room. The men went to their quarters, and so stood till the bugler blew "retreat." The time not devoted to drills was taken up in getting the ship ready for the serious work she was to undertake. All woodwork on the gun deck not in actual use was carried below or thrown overboard, and the great cargo booms were either taken down and stowed safely away, where the splinters would not be dangerous, or were covered with, canvas. These preparations had a sinister look that made us realize, if we had not done so before, that this was real war that we were about to engage in--no sham battle or manoeuvres. The men went about their work more quietly and thoughtfully, for one and all now understood their responsibilities. If the ship made a record for herself, the crew would get a large share of the credit; and if she failed to do the work cut out for her, on the crew would be laid the blame. If the men behind the guns and the men running the engines did not do their work rapidly and well, disaster and disgrace would follow. As we neared the scene of conflict, the discipline grew more and more strict. Before a man realized that he had done anything wrong, his name would be called by the master-at-arms and he would be hauled "up to the mast" for trial. "You ought to see the gang up at the mast," said "Stump," one bright afternoon. "'Mac' and 'Hod Marsh' have gathered enough extra duty men to do all the dirty work for a month." "What were you doing up there?" asked a bystander. "Why, I thought I heard my name called, and as discretion is the better part of valor, I lined up with the rest, and I was glad I did, too, for it was good sport." "Maybe you thought it was sport, but how about the chaps that were 'pinched'? Who was up before the skipper, anyhow?"