a smokestack--our conning tower--came up out of the water and "out stepped the devil"--myself, who at that time had on a rather brilliant red cap. Then they had "moseyed" for shore as fast as they could go. The storekeeper said that they had put the honorable captain to bed, and implied that he would be "right smart mad" when he learned how he had deceived himself. We went back to our boat and got an early start in the morning, as we did not know but that the "guying" of his neighbors might "rile" the captain considerably--and these Virginians are usually pretty good rifle shots. One of the greatest dangers in submarine navigation is that of being run down by surface vessels when the submarine comes to the surface after a deep submergence. I mean by a deep submergence when the vessel goes down so far that the water covers the top of her periscope and the commander gets out of touch with surface vessels. All submarine commanders have probably had narrow escapes from this danger; it is one of the chances that go with the business. I myself have had several very close calls. The first was with the _Protector_ manoeuvring in rough weather in Long Island Sound off Bridgeport in 1903. The weather was exceedingly rough, the wind blowing a halfgale and blowing the spume from the white-caps into spray. Some of our directors were in a large towboat at anchor and we were manoeuvring in their vicinity, running back and forth, submerging, etc., so that they might observe how steadily she could run in a rough sea. Finally, upon submerging, we observed a sloop in distress; part of her rigging had been carried away, and she was half full of water. The sea had broken the cabin windows and she was on the verge of sinking. We observed this through the periscope, so we came up and got a line to her and took her into Bridgeport. There were several young men aboard her, and when they first saw us standing on our conning tower they thought we also had been wrecked and were on top of a buoy. As the _Protector_ had functioned beautifully and we had in addition saved a shipwrecked crew, I felt quite proud of the day's performance, and was greatly surprised, therefore, when I reported to the directors, who had preceded us into the harbor, to have one of them "call me down" for taking such a foolhardy chance in submerging just in front of the steamer _Bridgeport_. He was astonished when I told him that I had never seen the steamer, and then he informed me that I had submerged just under her bow, and as she was going very fast they all expected us to be hit. The white-caps and spray had prevented us from seeing the steamer, as our periscope was a short one and only gave us intermittent views in the rough water. I was curious to learn whether the captain of the steamer had seen us, but I was told by him that he had not. The rough water had prevented the captain from seeing the wake of our periscope, just as it had made it impossible for us to catch a sight of his vessel.