A few hours previous, at 10:35 in the evening, one of the perils of navigation--especially for the other fellow was brought home vividly to the fleet. A barkentine with a dim light was sighted about 800 yards to the west of Admiral Evans's squadron. The vessel was going north. Probably the man on watch had gone to sleep. He suddenly awoke and before the officer of the deck on the Louisiana could recover from his amazement he headed straight for that vessel, the fourth ship in the squadron. It was soon plain that the barkentine would clear the stern of the Louisiana and would become a menace to the Georgia, the following ship. The officer of the deck of the Georgia had to sheer off and this made the officer of the deck of the Rhode Island sheer also. The barkentine went right between the Louisiana and the Georgia. By that time the officer of the sailing vessel had got a lot of lights out and apparently was in a state of complete obfustication. He had never seen so many lights at sea in such a limited space in his life. Clearing the first squadron he came into full view of another over to the east. There he was, all mixed up in a fleet of warships going at the rate of ten knots an hour. He became rattled again and turned to go outside the line of the first squadron, which he had just pierced. He came near hitting the Virginia, but finally got away safely. It was a hair raising episode. "That's what I call dancing a Virginia reel at sea by boats," said one officer after the incident was closed. "It seems to me," said another, "to show that not only does a kind Providence usually watch over a drunken man on shore, but seems to guard men at sea who go to sleep on watch." It was a miraculous escape for the barkentine, threading her way in and out of a fleet of warships proceeding at fair speed and only 400 yards apart. No skipper would have dared take such chances in the daytime and in full control of his craft. The officers of the fleet breathed a sigh of relief to think that they didn't have to record against this cruise the running down of a vessel at sea with the consequent probable loss of life. And so the voyage went on placidly with the usual drills and daily ceremonies until Cape Frio, some sixty miles east of Rio, was sighted and then there came the journey along the coast, the entrance into the magnificent harbor, the splash of the mud hooks and the feeling that one-third of the voyage to San Francisco was over, and the fleet was shaking itself down into a smooth working condition better and better with every day at sea. CHAPTER IV NEPTUNE AHOY!