Side by side they stood, the Captain tall and broad and sailor-like in his blue and gold--a man of action, bold of eye, hearty of voice, free of gesture; the other, his silver hair agleam in the setting sun, a man wise with years, gentle and calm-eyed, my Master Builder. Thus, as the distance lengthened, I stood watching until presently they turned, side by side, and so were gone. Slowly we steamed down the river, a drab, unlovely waterway, but a wonderful river none the less, whose banks teem with workers where ships are building--ships by the mile, by the league; ships of all shapes and of all sizes, ships of all sorts and for many different purposes. Here are great cargo-boats growing hour by hour with liners great and small; here I saw mile on mile of battleships, cruisers, destroyers and submarines of strange design with torpedo boats of uncanny shape; tramp steamers, wind-jammers, squat colliers and squatter tugs, these last surely the ugliest craft that ever wallowed in water. Minelayers were here with minesweepers and hospital ships--a heterogeneous collection of well-nigh every kind of ship that floats. Some lay finished and ready for launching, others, just begun, were only a sketch--a hint of what soon would be a ship. On our right were ships, on our left were ships and more ships, a long perspective; ships by the million tons--until my eyes grew a-weary of ships and I went below. Truly a wonderful river, this, surely in its way the most wonderful river eyes may see, a sight I shall never forget, a sight I shall always associate with the stalwart figure of the Captain and the white hair and venerable form of the Master Builder as they stood side by side to wave adieu. VI. THE BATTLE CRUISERS.