I wondered that our commodore could be so sanguine, for it seemed to me the Britishers would not admit themselves beaten until every craft was disabled; but, involuntarily glancing toward the right, I saw the cross of St. George being lowered from the masthead of the _Queen Charlotte_, and almost before I could call Alec’s attention to the fact, every vessel in all that squadron, excepting the _Little Belt_ and the _Chippewa_, were showing the same signs of submission. It seemed incredible that we should have won the fight after having suffered such loss as had been inflicted upon the _Lawrence_. It was impossible for the moment to believe that this British squadron, whose commander had claimed he need only “come out and show himself in order to send the Yankees to their knees,” had surrendered to a force much smaller than his own, and without discipline! Even when I could realize that we had earned the victory,--bought it by the blood of those brave fellows whom I had seen lying in the cockpit of the _Lawrence_,--it was difficult to understand, even though we had fought so valiantly, how it all came about. We were the victors in the first naval engagement fought on the lakes. Commodore Perry had earned for himself that fame and that glory which his brother predicted, and I was his brother’s friend. Alec, delirious with joy, flung his arms around my neck as one British ensign after another fluttered down from its masthead, and we two danced here and there over the blood-stained deck, unconscious almost, that we were making such an exhibition of ourselves, until we saw the sailors--old men bleeding from wounds that needed a surgeon’s attention--hugging each other around the waist as they swung to and fro, cheering and yelling as if it were not possible to show their happiness save by movement and by noise. The battle was ended, and Commodore Perry, Alec’s brother, was the one hero, to my eyes, among all who had proven their valor since the war began. Here it is that my poor attempt at describing what befell my comrade and I while we served with Perry on Lake Erie, must come to an end, for the tale is done. After a certain time I returned to my home at Presque Isle, and Alec accompanied his brother on what was little less than a triumphal tour to Washington. Perhaps it is well to gather up the scattered threads of the story by explaining, what is most likely known to every one who shall chance to read these lines, that before sunset the _Little Belt_ and the _Chippewa_ were captured by the _Scorpion_ and the _Trippe_, and brought to an anchor under the stern of the _Lawrence_. It was hardly more than half an hour from the time our commodore left the flag-ship, and the dying men in the cockpit were sorrowing because of what seemed defeat, when he went on board again.