Mr. Stevens and myself held the
companion-way, driving the crew back, not without hurt, for my
wrist was slashed by a cutlass, and Mr. Stevens had a bullet in his
thigh. But presently we had the joy of having those below cry
quarter.
We were masters of the sloop. Quickly battening down the prisoners,
I had the sails spread, the windlass going, and the anchor apeak
quickly, and we soon were moving down upon the schooner, which was
now all confusion, commands ringing out on the quiet air. But when,
laying alongside, we gave her a dose, and then another, from all
our swivels at once, sweeping her decks, the timid fellows cried
quarter, and we boarded her. With my men's muskets cocked, I ordered
her crew and soldiers below, till they were all, save two lusty
youths, stowed away. Then I had everything of value brought from
the sloop, together with the swivels, which we fastened to the
schooner's side; and when all was done, we set fire to the sloop,
and I stood and watched her burn with a proud--too proud--spirit.
Having brought our prisoners from the shore, we placed them with
the rest below. At dawn I called a council with Mr. Stevens and
the others--our one wounded Provincial was not omitted--and we all
agreed that some of the prisoners should be sent off in the long
boat, and a portion of the rest be used to work the ship.
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