A captain, who had
served with reputation in the continental army, seemed now totally
bereft of his faculties. He lay upon his back in the bottom of the
boat, with hands uplifted, and a countenance in which terror was
personified, exclaiming in a tone of despair, "Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!" A
Dutchman, whose weight might amount at about three hundred pounds, was
busily engaged in endeavoring to find shelter for his bulky person,
which, from the lowness of the gunnels, was a very difficult
undertaking. In spite of his utmost efforts, a portion of his
posterial luxuriance, appeared above the gunnel, and afforded a mark
to the enemy, which brought a constant shower of balls around it. In
vain he shifted his position. The lump still appeared, and the balls
still flew around it, until the Dutchman, losing all patience, raised
his head above the gunnel, and in a tone of querulous remonstrance,
called out, "Oh, now I git tat nonsense, tere,--will you!" Not a shot
was fired from the boat.
At one time, after they had partly reined the current, Captain Ward
attempted to bring his rifle to bear upon them, but so violent was the
agitation of the boat, from the furious struggles of the horses, that
he could not steady his piece within twenty yards of the enemy, and
quickly laying it aside returned to the oar. The Indians followed them
down the river for more than an hour, but having no canoes, they did
not attempt to board; and as the boat was at length transferred to the
opposite side of the river, they finally abandoned the pursuit and
disappeared.
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