Meantime Perry prepared to receive the officers who were to come, and in the usual form to offer their swords to him. Standing on the deck of the _Niagara_ as the news of the surrender travelled from one American ship to another, and listening to the cheers with which the words were greeted, Perry heard, last of all, a faint response from the few men still remaining on the battered _Lawrence_, from which the fleet had been slowly drifting. Their cry came to him as an appeal to return to her, and return he did, after informing the defeated officers that they would be received there. Bringing the fleet to anchor, Perry entered a boat and was carried to her side, and those of her crew who were able to do so gathered at the gangway to receive him--gathered with uncovered heads and in silence. “It was a time of conflicting emotions when he stepped upon deck,” wrote Surgeon Parsons. “The battle was won, and he was safe, but the deck was slippery with blood, and strewn with the bodies of twenty officers and men, seven of whom had sat at a table with us at our last meal, and the ship resounded everywhere with the groans of the wounded. Those of us who were spared and able to walk met him at the gangway to welcome him on board, but the salutation was a silent one on both sides; not a word could find utterance. “And then came the officers of the British squadron, one from each vessel. They were obliged to walk around dismounted guns and pick their way over the dead to reach the victorious commander. But they had come from scenes no less trying on their own decks, for he who came from the _Detroit_ had seen a pet bear lapping the blood of those who had but a brief time before been fondling it. One after another they presented their swords, while Perry in a low and kindly voice declined to receive them, and asked about the dead and wounded they had left behind. He was particularly solicitous in his questions about Captain Barclay, for Barclay had in Europe suffered the loss of an arm, and had been otherwise mutilated in fighting the French, and now had been badly wounded again--so badly that he lost the other arm.” Until 9 o’clock at night the Americans were busy securing the prisoners, burying the dead, and making repairs on the rigging of the ships, but at that hour the sails were once more spread to the breeze, and victor and vanquished sailed away to anchor in beautiful Put-in Bay Harbor. Here on the 12th the officers who had fallen were buried on South Bass Island, three Americans and three Englishmen, side by side and with equal honors, as they had shown equal manly qualities.