“Reminds me of Bill Thompson’s pigs,” nodded Sam. “That’s the kind of a noise they make when they get an appetite.” At last the lads completed their tour. “Stand by the starboard anchor chain!” The command was given from the bridge as the lads emerged from the forward hatchway. Glancing up they saw several officers in their white uniforms standing on the bridge of the ship. “I guess we must be going to get under way, sir,” said Dan. “Yes.” The “Long Island” had swung with the tide until she was headed down the river. Groups of expectant jackies thronged the forward deck. To one side stood the members of the ship’s band, instruments in hand. “Stand clear of the starboard anchor chain,” came the second command from the bridge. “Up with the starboard anchor.” A rattling of chains followed instantly as the anchor was quickly raised by electric power until its stock was level with the forward deck. “Starboard anchor shipped, sir,” was the answer from the forward deck. “Aye, aye!” The captain, who had been standing looking over the forecastle from the bridge, now turned to the midshipman at the bridge telegraph, from which signals are transmitted to the engine room. “Slow speed ahead, both engines,” commanded the captain. A tremor ran through the ship and at the same instant the Stars and Stripes fluttered from the gaff, showing that the ship was under motion. At that moment the band struck up a lively tune. With one accord the jackies threw their arms about each other and began waltzing about the deck, raising their voices in song as they spun around. The Battleship Boys, however, did not sing. Their eyes were swimming with happiness, their hearts were full of patriotism. The throb of the engines was borne faintly to their ears, and the great ship, turning her prow seaward, headed slowly for the Narrows. CHAPTER XII—IN THE DECK DIVISION “Deck division turn out to swab down decks!” bellowed the boatswain’s mate. The ship had poked her nose out into the open sea by this time, the “Long Island” rising and falling gracefully on an easy swell. “What did he say?” questioned Sam. “I’ll confess that I did not understand a word of it,” answered Dan. “I don’t see why those mates cannot talk plain United States.” The command was followed by a bustling about the decks. Men hurriedly brought out their deck swabs, implements somewhat resembling mops. Others brought pails which they filled from the taps on deck, while still others coupled hose to pipes along the sea gutters. Sam felt a hand on his shoulder. “What division are you in?” demanded a gruff voice. “The deck division, sir.” “Then what are you doing here?” said a boatswain’s mate that they had not seen before, glaring at them. “I—I don’t know, sir,” stammered Sam. “Will you tell us what we are to do?” spoke up Dan. “You see, it is our first day on board.”