On the bridge of the _Manhattan_, Captain Dunham, his officers in full uniform at his side and an attentive midshipman at his elbow, was watching his flagship anxiously. As she swung to her anchor a sharp command was barked out: "Slow down!" The middy's hand shoved the engine-room telegraph indicator over, and instantly the strong vibration of the engines began to diminish. It felt strange, this sudden cessation of a sound and motion that the boys had come to regard almost as second nature. "Let go the star-bo-ard an-chor!" "Aye, aye, sir!" shouted a watchful boatswain's mate, springing forward. Instantly a shrill screeching of whistles broke out, and with a mighty roar the great anchor of the _Manhattan_ shot from the cat-heads and plunged into the water. After it roared thirty fathoms of chain before the further screams of the pipes stopped the rapid "paying out" of the iron-linked cable. The _Manhattan_, her engines idle at last, came to an anchorage. "Caught her to the eighth of an inch, sir!" remarked Lieutenant-Commander Scott to his chief. Sailor-like pride wreathed the faces of every man on the bridge. The _Manhattan_ swung at anchor behind her flagship at precisely the same distance as she had steamed in column behind her all the long voyage from New York. It was a feat to be proud of, and called for a high degree of seamanship. Behind the _Manhattan_ the other vessels came to similar moorings, the Stars and Stripes fluttering out from the stern staff of each as the anchor touched the bottom. It was a sight to make the heart of a patriot beat proudly. Ten of the finest ships in the United States Navy swung at exact intervals in a perfect line. The flag of their country whipped out from the stern staff of each, as if in defiance of their country's foes. Hardly had the anchor of the _Iowa_, the last ship in line, dropped before from the flagship another signal was broken out. "Well done!" read Ned, studying the bright bits of bunting. "Congratulations to officers and men." A great cheer went up from the fore deck of the _Manhattan_, and its echoes went winging down the line of grim fighting craft and was caught up by ship after ship. At almost the same instant the sun dipped behind the coast hills, and the bugles began to sound the musical call of "Retreat." It was the boys' first opportunity to see the impressive ceremony of "colors," as the lowering of the flag on a man-o'-war is termed. The ceremony is not gone through at sea, and the boys had been below when it had been carried out in New York on their first night on board. Now they were to witness one of the most impressive ceremonies of the United States Navy. Division after division of the crew was formed in line and marched aft, in rhythmic tread, to the stern deck, on which stood Captain Dunham and a group of his officers in full uniform, the last rays of the sun glinting on their gold braid.