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 glimpsed Washington without even knowing, for to the Flying Squadron all cities looked alike.

On down the Virginia coast the flying wedge swept. All through the forenoon they flew steadily. By noon they again stopped for an hour near the Carolina boundary to rest and feed. But it was only a brief stop. The winter quarters had not been reached yet, so the commodore still led them on. By the middle of the afternoon the flock wheeled at the mouth of one of the rivers that flows from North Carolina into the Atlantic Ocean and headed for a large island twenty miles to sea. Here, half an hour later, they came to their long journey's end.

The Flying Squadron was not spent, but tired. It could have taken to the air again and flown another thousand miles if necessary, but they had reached their winter quarters and so they rested, well content.

The Flying Squadron had covered something like two thousand miles in two and a half days, so why not rest?