Chapter IX: Cuba Fishermen (2)

“Disagreeable! Not in the least, quite the contrary. That black grouper looks remarkably beautiful. Another piece of yam, if you please.--Shall I fill you a cup of coffee, Obed? For my own part, I always stow the ground tier of my cargo dry, and then take a topdressing. Write this down as an approved axiom with all thorough breakfast eaters. Why, man, you are off your feed; what are you turning up your ear for, in that incomprehensible fashion, like a duck in thunder? A little of the claret--thank you. The very best butter I have ever eaten out of Ireland--now, some of that avocado pear--and as for biscuit, Leman never came up to it. I say, man,--hillo, where are you?--rouse ye out of your brown study, man.”

“Did you hear that, Mr Cringle?”

“Hear what?--I heard nothing,” rejoined I; “but hand me over that land crab.--Thank you, and you may send the spawl of that creeping thing along with it; that guana. I had a dislike to eating a lizard at first, but I have got over it somehow;--and a slice of ham, a small taste of the unclean beast, Obed--peach-fed, I’ll warrant.”

There was a pause. The report of a great gun came booming along, reverberated from side to side of the lagoon, the echoes growing shorter and shorter, and weaker and weaker, until they growled themselves asleep in a hollow rumble like distant thunder.

“Ha, ha! Dick Casket for a thousand! Old Blowhard has stuck in your skirts, Master Obed--but Lord help me, man! let us finish our breakfast; he won’t be here this half hour.”

I expected to see mine host’s forehead lowering like a thunder cloud from my ill-timed funning; but to my surprise, his countenance exhibited more amenity than I thought had been in the nature of the beast, as he replied,--

“Why, lieutenant, the felucca put to sea last night, to keep a bright look-out at the mouth of our cove here. I suppose that is him overhauling some vessel.”

“It may be so;--hush! there’s another gun--Two!”

Obed changed countenance at the double report.

“I say, Obed, the felucca did not carry more than one gun when I saw her, and she has had no time to load and fire again.”

He did not answer a word, but continued, with a piece of guana on the end of, his fork in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, as if he had been touched by the wand of a magician. Presently we heard one or two dropping shots, quickly thickening into a rattle of musketry. He threw down his food, picked up his hat, and trundled down stairs, as if the devil had kicked him. “Pedro, que hay?” I could hear him say to some one below, who appeared to have arrived in great haste, for he gasped for breath.

“Aqui viene la feluca,” answered Pedro; “perseguido por dos Lanchas Canoneras llenas de Gente.”

“Abordo entonces, abordo todo el mundo; arma arma, aqui vienen los Engleses; arma, arma!”

And all from that instant was a regular hillabaloo. The drums on board the schooners beat to quarters, a great bell, formerly the ornament of some goodly ship, no doubt, which had been slung in the fork of a tree, clanged away at a furious rate, the crews were hurrying to and fro, shouting to each other in Creole Spanish, and Yankee English, while every cannon-shot from the felucca or the boat guns came louder and louder, and the small arms peppered away sharper and sharper. The shouts of the men engaged, both friends and foes, were now heard, and I could hear Obed’s voice on board the largest schooner, which lay full in view from my window, giving orders, not only to his own crew, but to those of the others. I heard him distinctly sing out, after ordering them to haul upon the spring on his cable, “Now, men, I need not tell you to fight bravely, for if you are taken every devil of you will be hanged, so hoist away the signal,” and a small black ball flew up through the rigging, until it reached the main topgallant-masthead of the schooner, where it hung a moment, and in the next blew out in a large black swallow-tailed flag, like a commodore’s broad pennant.

“Now,” shrieked he, “let me see who dares give in with this voucher for his honesty flying aloft!” I twisted and craned myself out of the window, to get a view of what--was going on elsewhere; however, I could see nothing but Obed’s large schooner from it, all the other craft were out of the range of my eye, being hid by the projecting roof of the shed. The noise continued--the shouting rose higher than ever--the other schooners opened their fire, both cannon and musketry; and from the increasing vehemence of the Spanish exclamations, and the cheering on board Obed’s vessels, I concluded the attacking party were having the worst of it. My dog Sneezer now came jumping and scrambling up the trap stair, his paws slipping between the bars at every step, his mouth wide open, and his tongue hanging out, while he barked, and yelled, and gasped to get at me, as if his life depended on it. After him I could see the round woolly pate of Peter Mangrove, Esquire, as excited apparently as the dog, and as anxious to get up; but they got jammed together in the small hatch, and stuck there, man and beast. At length Peter spoke--

“Now, sir, now! Nancy has run on before to the beach wid two paddles; now for it, now for it.”

Down trundled master, and dog, and pilot. By this time there was no one in the lower part of the shed, which was full of smoke, while the infernal tumult on the water still raged as furiously as ever, the shot of all sorts and sizes hissing, and splashing, and ricochetting along the smooth surface of the harbour, as if there had been a sleet of musket and cannonballs and grape. Peter struck out at the top of his speed, Sneezer and I followed: we soon reached the jungle, dashed through a path that had been recently cleared with a cutlass or billhook, for the twigs were freshly shred, and in about ten minutes reached the high wood. However, no rest for the wicked, although the row seemed lessening now.

“Some one has got the worst of it,” said I.

“Never mind, massa,” quoth Peter, “or we shan’t get de betterest ourshef.”

And away we galloped again, until I had scarcely a rag an inch square on my back, or anywhere else, and my skin was tom in pieces by the prickly bushes and spear grass. The sound of firing now ceased entirely, although there was still loud shouting now and then.

“Push on, massa--dem will soon miss we.”

“True enough, Peter--but what is that?” as we came to a bundle of clouts walloping about in the morass.

“De debil it must be, I tink,” said the pilot. “No, my Nancy it is, sticking in the mud up to her waist; what shall us do? you fink, massa, we hab time for can stop to pick she out?”

“Heaven have mercy, Peter--yes, unquestionably.”

“Well, massa, you know best.”

So we tugged at the sable heroine, and first one leg came home out of the tenacious clay, with a plop, then the other was drawn out of the quagmire. We then relieved her of the paddles, and each taking hold of one of the poor half-dead creature’s hands, we succeeded in getting down to the beach, about half a mile to leeward of the entrance to the cove. We found the canoe there, plumped Nancy stem foremost into the bottom of it for ballast, gathered all our remaining energies for a grand shove, and ran her like lightning into the surf, till the water flashed over and over us, reaching to our necks. Next moment we were both swimming, and the canoe, although full of water, beyond the surf, rising and falling on the long swell. We scrambled on board, set Nancy to bale with Peter’s hat, seized our paddles, and skulled away like fury for ten minutes right out to sea, without looking once about us, until a musket-shot whistled over our heads, then another, and a third; and I had just time to hold up a white handkerchief, to prevent a whole platoon being let drive at us from the deck of his Britannic Majesty’s schooner Gleam, lying-to about a cable’s length to windward of us, with the Firebrand a mile astern of her out at sea. In five minutes we got on board of the former.

“Mercy on me, Tom Cringle, and is this the way we are to meet again?” said old Dick Gasket, as he held out his large, bony, sunburnt hand to me. “You have led me a nice dance, in a vain attempt to redeem you from bondage, Tom; but I am delighted to see you although I have not had the credit of being your deliverer--very glad to see you, Tom; but come along man, come down with me, and let me rig you, not quite a Stultze’s fit, you know, but a jury rig you shall have, as good as Dick Casket’s kit can furnish forth, for really you are in a miserable plight, man.”

“Bad enough indeed. Mr Casket--many thanks though--bad enough, as you say; but I would that your boats crew were in so good a plight.”

Mr Gasket looked earnestly at me--“Why, I have my own misgivings, Cringle; this morning at day-break, the Firebrand in company, we fell in with an armed felucca. It was dead calm, and she was out of gun shot, close in with the land. The Firebrand immediately sent the cutter on board full armed, with instructions to me to man the launch, and arm her with the boat-gun, and then to send both boats to overhaul the felucca. I did so, standing in as quickly as the light air would take me, to support them; the felucca all this while sweeping in shore as fast as she could pull. But the boats were too nimble for her, and our launch had already saluted her twice from the six pounder in the bow, when the sea-breeze came thundering down in a white squall, that reefed our gaff-topsail in a trice, and blew away a whole lot of light sails, like so many paper-kites. When it cleared away, the devil a felucca, boat, or any thing else, was to be seen. Capsized they could not have been, for all three were not likely to have gone that way; and as to any creek they could have run into, why we could see none. That they had pulled in shore, however, was our conclusion; but here have we been, the whole morning, firing signal guns every five minutes without success.”

“Did you hear no firing after the squall?” said I.

“Why, some of my people thought they did, but it was that hollow, tremulous, reverberating kind of sound, that it might have been thunder; and the breeze blew too strong to have allowed us to hear musketry a mile and a half to windward. I did think I saw some smoke rise, and blow off now and then, but” “But me no buts, Master Richard Casket; Peter Mangrove here, as well as myself, saw your people pursue the felucca into the lion’s den, and I fear they have been crushed in his jaws.” I briefly related what we had seen--Casket was in great distress.

“They must have been taken, Cringle. The fools! to allow themselves to be trepanned in this way. We must stand out and speak the corvette. All hands make sail!”

I could not help smiling at the grandeur of Dick’s emphasis on the all, when twenty hands, one-third of them boys, and the rest landsmen, scrambled up from below, and began to pull and haul in no very seamanlike fashion. He noticed it.

“A--h, Tom, I know what you are grinning at, but I fear it has been no laughing matter to my poor boats crew--all my best hands gone, God help me!”

Presently being under the Firebrand’s lee quarter, we lowered down the boat and went on board, where, for the first time, the extreme ludicrousness of my appearance and following flashed on me. There we were all in a bunch, the dog, Mr and Mrs Mangrove, and Thomas Cringle, gentleman, such in appearance as I shall shortly describe them.

Old Richard Gasket, Esq., first clambered up the side and made his bow to the Hon. Captain Transom, who was standing near the gangway, on the snow-white deck, amidst a group of officers, where every thing was in the most apple-pie order, himself, both in mind and apparel, the most polished concern in the ship; while the whole crew, with the exception of the unfortunate absentees in the cutter, were scrambling, to get a good view of us.

I have already said, that my uniform was torn to pieces; trowsers ditto; my shoes had parted company in the quagmire; and as for hat, it was left in my cot. I had a dirty bandage tied round my neck, performing the twofold office of a cravat and a dressing to my wound; while the blood from the scratches had dried into black streaks adown and across my face and paws, and I was altogether so begrimed with mud that my mother would not have known me. Dick made his salaam, and then took up a position beside the sally-port, with an important face, like a showman exhibiting wild beastesses, a regular “stir-him-up-with-a-long pole” sort of look. I followed him “This is Lieutenant Cringle, Captain Transom.”

“The devil it is!” said Transom, trying in vain to keep his gravity. “Why, I see it is--How do you do, Mr Cringle? glad to see you.”

“This is Peter Mangrove, branch-pilot,” continued Casket, as Peter, bowing, tried to slide past out of sight.

Till this instant I had not time to look at him--he was even a much queerer-looking figure than myself. He had been encumbered with no garment besides his trowsers when we started, and these had been reduced, in the scramble through the brake, to a waistband and two knee bands, from which a few shreds fluttered in the breeze, the rest of his canvass having been entirely torn out of the bolt-ropes. For an upper dress he had borrowed a waistcoat without sleeves from the purser of the schooner, which hung loose and unbuttoned before, while behind, being somewhat of the shortest, some very prominent parts of his stem frame were disclosed, as even an apology for a shirt he had none. Being a decent man, however, he had tied his large straw hat round his waist, by strings fastened to the broad brims, which nearly met behind, so that the crown covered his loins before, like a petard, while the sameness of his black naked body was relieved by being laced with blood from numberless lacerations.

Next came the female--“This is the pilot’s wife, Captain Transom,” again sung out old Dick; but decency won’t let me venture on a description of poor Nancy’s equipment, beyond mentioning, that one of the Gleam’s crew had given her a pair of old trowsers, which, as a sailor has no bottom, and Nancy was not a sailor, were most ludicrously scanty at top, and devil another rag of any kind had the poor creature on, but a handkerchief across her bosom. There was no standing all this; the crew forward and in the waist were all on the broad grin, while the officers, after struggling to maintain their gravity until they were nearly suffocated, fairly gave in, and the whole ship echoed with the most uproarious laughter; a young villain, whether a Mid or no I could not tell, yelling out in the throng, “Hurra for Tom Cringle’s Tail!”

I was fairly beginning to lose countenance, when up jumped Sneezer to my relief out of the boat, with an old cocked hat lashed on his head, a marine’s jacket buttoned round his body, and his coalblack muzzle bedaubed with pipe-clay, regularly monkeyfied, the momentary handiwork of some wicked little reefers, while a small pipe sung out quietly, as if not intended to reach the quarterdeck, although it did do so, “And here comes the last joint of Mr Cringle’s Tail.” The dog began floundering and jumping about, and walloping amongst the people, most of whom knew him, and immediately drew their attention from me and my party to himself; for away they all bundled forward, dog and men tumbling and scrambling about like so many children, leaving the coast clear to me and my attendants. The absurdity of the whole exhibition had for an instant, even under the very nose of a proverbially taught hand, led to freedoms which I had believed impossible in a man-of-war. However, there was too much serious matter in hand, independently of any other consideration, to allow the merriment created by our appearance to last long.

Captain Transom, immediately on being informed how matters stood, with seamanlike promptitude determined to lighten the Gleam, and send her in with the boats, for the purpose of destroying the haunt of the pirates, and recovering the men, if they were still alive; but before any thing could be done, it came on to blow, and for a week we had great difficulty in maintaining our position off the coast against the strength of the gale and lee current.

It was on the Sunday morning after I had escaped that it moderated sufficiently for our purpose, when both vessels stood close in, and Peter and I were sent to reconnoitre the entrance of the port in the gig. Having sounded and taken the bearings of the land, we returned on board, when the Gleam’s provisions were taken out and her water started. The ballast was then shifted, so as to bring her by the head, that she might thus draw less water by being on an even keel, all sharp vessels of her class requiring much deeper water aft than forward; the corvette’s launch, with a 12-pound carronade fitted, was then manned and armed with thirty seamen and marines, under the command of the second lieutenant; the jolly boat and the two quarter boats, each with twelve men, followed in a string, under the third lieutenant, the master, and the senior midshipman; thirty picked hands were added to the schooner’s crew, and I was desired to take the gig with six smart hands and Peter Mangrove, and to accompany the whole as pilot; but to pull out of danger so soon as the action commenced, so as to be ready to help any disabled boat, or to carry orders from the commanding officer.

At nine in the morning, we gave three cheers, and leaving the corvette, with barely forty hands on board, the Gleam made sail towards the harbour’s mouth, with the boats in tow; but when we got within musket shot of the entrance, the breeze failed us, when the order of sailing was reversed, the boats now taking the schooner in tow, preceded by your humble servant in the gig. We dashed safely through the small canal of blue water, which divided the surf at the harbour’s mouth, having hit it to a nicety; but when about a pistolshot from the entrance, the channel narrowed to a muddy creek, not more than twenty yards wide, with high trees, and thick underwood close to the water’s edge. All was silent, the sun shone clown upon us like the concentrated rays of a burning glass, and there was no breeze to dissipate the heavy dank mist that hovered over the surface of the unwholesome canal, nor was there any appearance of a living thing, save and except a few startled waterfowl, and some guanoes on the trees, and now and then an alligator, like a black log of charred wood, would roll off a slimy bank of brown mud, with a splash into the water.

We rowed on, the schooner every now and then taking the ground, but she was always quickly warped off again by a kedge; at length, after we had in all proceeded, it might be, about a mile from the beach, we came to a boom of strong timber clamped with iron, stretching across the creek. We were not unprepared for this; one of two old 32-pound carronades, which, in anticipation of some obstruction of the sort, had been got on deck from amongst the Gleam’s ballast, and properly slung, was now made fast to the middle timber of the boom, and let go, when the weight of it sunk it to the bottom, and we passed on. We pulled on for about half a mile further, when I noticed, high up on a sunny cliff, that shot boldly out into the clear blue heavens, a small red flag suddenly run up to the top of a tall, scathed, branchless palm tree, where it flared for a moment in the breeze like the flame of a torch, and then as suddenly disappeared. “Come, they are on the look-out for us I see.”

The hills continued to close on us as we advanced, and that so precipitously, that we might have been crushed to pieces had half-a dozen active fellows, without any risk to themselves, for the trees would have screened them, simply loosened some of the fragments of rock that impended over us, so threateningly, it seemed, as if a little finger could have sent them bounding and thundering down the mountain side; but this either was not the game of the people we were in search of, or Obed’s spirit and energy had been crushed out of him by the heart depressing belief that his hours were numbered, for no active obstruction was offered.

We now suddenly rounded an abrupt corner of the creek, and there we were full in front of the schooners, who, with the felucca in advance, were lying in line of battle, with springs on their cables. The horrible black pennant was, in the present instance, nowhere to be seen; indeed, why such an impolitic step as ever to have shown it at all was taken in the first attack, I never could understand; for the force was too small to have created any serious fear of being captured, (unless indeed it had been taken for an advanced guard, supported by a stronger,) while it must have appeared probable to Obediah, that the loss of the two boats would in all likelihood lead to a more powerful attempt, when, if it were successful, the damning fact of having fought under such an infernal emblem must have ensured a pirate’s death on the gibbet to every soul who was taken, unless he had intended to have murdered all the witnesses of it. But since proof in my person and the pilot’s existed, now, if ever, was the time for mortal resistance, and to have hoisted it, for they knew that they all fought with halters about their necks. They had all the Spanish flag flying except the Wave, which showed American colours, and the felucca, which had a white flag hoisted, from which last, whenever our gig appeared, a canoe shoved off, and pulled towards us. The officer, if such he might be called, also carried a white flag in his hand. He was a daring-looking fellow, and dashed up along-side of me. The incomprehensible folly of trying at this time of day to cloak the real character of the vessels, puzzled me, and does so to this hour. I have never got a clew to it, unless it was that Obed’s strong mind had given way before his superstitious fears, and others had now assumed the right of both judging and acting for him in this his closing scene. The pirate officer at once recognised me, but seemed neither surprised nor disconcerted at the strength of the force which accompanied me. He asked me in Spanish if I commanded it; I told him I did not, that the captain of the schooner was the senior officer.

“Then will you be good enough, to go on board with me, to interpret for me?”

“Certainly.”

In half a minute we were both on the Gleam’s deck, the crews of the boats that had her in tow lying on their oars.

“You are the commander of this force?” said the Spaniard.

“I am,” said old Gasket, who had figged himself out in full puff, after the manner of the ancients, as if he had been going to church, instead of to fight; “and who the hell are you?”

“I command one of these Spanish schooners, sir, which your boats so unwarrantably attacked a week ago, although you are at peace with Spain. But even had they been enemies, they were in a friendly port, which should have protected them.”

“All very good oysters,” quoth old Dick; “and pray was it an honest trick of you to cabbage my young friend, Lieutenant Cringle there, as if you had been slavers kidnapping the Bungoes in the Bight of Biafra, and then to fire on and murder my people when sent in to claim him?”

“As to carrying off that young gentleman, it was no affair of ours; he was brought away by the master of that American schooner; but so far as regards firing on your boats, I believe they fired first. But the crews are not murdered; on the contrary, they have been well used, and are now on board that felucca. I am come to surrender the whole fifteen to you.”

“The whole fifteen! and what have you made of the other twelve?”

“Gastados,” said the fellow, with all the sangfroid in the world, “gastados, (spent or expended) by their own folly.”

“Oh, they are expended, are they? then give us the fifteen.”

“Certainly, but you will in this case withdraw your force, of course.”

“We shall see about that--go and send us the men.” He jumped down into the canoe, and shoved off;--whenever he reached the felucca, he struck the white flag, and hoisted the Spanish in its stead, and by hauling on a spring, he brought her to cover the largest schooner so effectually, that we could not fire a shot at her without going through the felucca. We could see all the men leave this latter vessel in two canoes, and go on board one of the other craft. There was now no time to be lost, so I dashed at the felucca in the gig, and broke open the hatches, where we found the captured seamen and their gallant leader, Lieutenant----, in a sorry plight, expecting nothing but to be blown up, or instant death by shot or the knife. We released them, and, sending to the Gleam for ammunition and small arms, led the way in the felucca, by Mr Gasket’s orders, to the attack, the corvette’s launch supporting us; while the schooner with the other craft were scraping up as fast as they could. We made straight for the largest schooner, which with her consorts now opened a heavy fire of grape and musketry, which we returned with interest. I can tell little of what took place till I found myself on the pirate’s quarterdeck, after a desperate tussle, and having driven the crew overboard, with dead and wounded men thickly strewn about, and our fellows busy firing at their surviving antagonists, as they were trying to gain the shore by swimming.

Although the schooner we carried was the Commodore, and commanded by Obediah in person, yet the pirates, that is, the Spanish part of them, by no means showed the fight I expected. While we were approaching, no fire could be hotter, and their yells and cheers were tremendous; but the instant we laid her along-side with the felucca, and swept her decks with a discharge of grape from the carronade, under cover of which we boarded on the quarter, while the launch’s people scrambled up at the bows, their hearts failed, a regular panic overtook them, and they jumped overboard, without waiting for a taste either of cutlass or boarding-pike. The captain himself, however, with about ten Americans, stood at bay round the long gun, which, notwithstanding their great inferiority in point of numbers to our party, they manfully fired three several times at us, after we had carried her aft; but we were so close that the grape came past us like a round shot, and only killed one hand at each discharge, whereas at thirty yards farther off, by having had room to spread, it might have made a pretty tableau of the whole party. I hailed Obed twice to surrender, while our people, staggered by the extreme hardihood of the small group, hung back for an instant; but he either did not hear me, or would not, for the only reply he seemed inclined to make was by slewing round the gun so as to bring me on with it, and the next moment a general rush was made, when the whole party was cut down, with three exceptions, one of whom was Obed himself, who getting on the gun, made a desperate bound over the men’s heads, and jumped overboard. He struck out gallantly, the shot pattering round him like the first of a thunder shower, but he dived apparently unhurt, and I lost sight of him.

The other vessels having also been carried, the firing was all on our side by this time, and I, along with the other officers, was exerting myself to stop the butchery.

“Cease firing, men; for shame, you see they no longer resist.” And my voice was obeyed by all except the fifteen we had released, who were absolutely mad with fury-perfect fiends; such uncontrollable fierceness I had never witnessed, indeed, I had nearly cut one of them down before I could make them knock off firing.

“Don’t fire, sir,” cried I to one.

“Ay, ay, sir; but that scoundrel made me wash his shirts,” and he let drive at a poor devil, who was squattering and swimming away towards the shore, and shot him through the head.

“By heavens! I will run you through, if you fire at that man!” shouted I to another, a marine, who was taking aim at no less a personage than friend Obed, who had risen to breathe, and was swimming after the others, but the very last man of all.

“No, by G--? he made me wash his trowsers, sir.”

He fired--the pirate stretched out his arms, turned slowly on his back, with his face towards me. I thought he gave me a sort of “Et tu, Brute” look, but I dare say it was fancy--his feet began to sink, and he gradually disappeared, a few bubbles of froth and blood marking the spot where he went down. He had been shot dead. I will not attempt to describe my feelings at this moment, they burned themselves in on my heart at the time, and the impression is indelible. Whether I had or had not acted, in one sense, unjustly, by ousting myself so conspicuously forward in the attempt to capture him, after what had passed between us, forced itself upon my judgment. I had certainly promised that I would, in no way that I could help, be instrumental in his destruction or seizure, provided he landed me at St Jago, or put me on board a friendly vessel. He did neither, so his part of the compact might be considered broken; but then it was out of his power to have fulfilled it; besides, he not only threatened my life subsequently, but actually wounded me; still, however, on great provocation. But what “is writ, is writ.” He has gone to his account, pirate as he was, murderer if you will; yet I had, and still have, a tear for his memory,--and many a time have I prayed on my bare knees that his blue agonized dying look might be erased from my brain; but this can never be. What he had been I never learned; but it is my deliberate opinion, that, with a clear stage and opportunity, he would have forced himself out from the surface of society for good or for evil. The unfortunates who survived him, but to expiate their crimes on the gibbet at Port Royal, said he had joined them from a New York privateer, but they knew nothing farther of him beyond the fact, that by his skill and desperate courage, within a month he had by common acclaim been elected captain of the whole band. There was a story current on board the corvette, of a small trading craft, with a person answering his description, having been captured in the Chesapeake, by one of the squadron, and sent to Halifax for adjudication, (the master, as in most cases of the kind, being left on board,) which from that hour had never been heard of, neither vessel, nor prize crew, nor captain, until two Americans were taken out of a slaver, off the Cape de Verds by the Firebrand, about a year afterwards, after a most brave and determined attempt to escape, both of whom were however allowed to enter, but subsequently deserted off Sandy Hook by swimming ashore, in consequence of a pressed hand hinting that one of them, surmised to be Obed, had been the master of the vessel above mentioned.

All resistance having ceased, the few of the pirates who escaped having scampered into the woods, where it would have been vain to follow them, we secured our prisoners, and at the close of a bloody day, for fatal had it been to friend and foe, the prizes were got under weigh, and before nightfall we were all at sea, sailing in a fleet, under convoy of the corvette and Gleam.