University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.

The joyful shouts and hearty cheers of the
Ariel's crew continued for some time after her
commander had reached her deck. Barnstable
answered the congratulations of his officers by
cordial shakes of the hand, and after waiting for
the ebullition of delight among the seamen
to subside a little, he beckoned with an air of authority
for silence.

“I thank you, my lads, for your good will,”
he said, when all were gathered around him in
deep attention; “they have given us a tough
chase, and if you had left us another mile to go,
we had been lost. That fellow is a King's cutter,
and though his disposition to run to leeward is a
good deal mollified, yet he shows signs of fight.
At any rate, he is stripping off some of his
clothes, which looks as if he were game. Luckily
for us, Captain Manual has taken all his marines
ashore with him, (though what he has done with
them or himself, is a mystery,) or we should have
had our decks lumbered with live cattle; but, as

it is, we have a good working breeze, tolerably
smooth water, and a dead match! There is a
sort of national obligation on us to whip that fellow,
and, therefore, without more words about
the matter, let us turn to and do it, that we may
get our breakfasts.”

To this specimen of marine eloquence, the crew
cheered as usual; the young men burning for the
combat, and the few old sailors who belonged to
the schooner, shaking their heads with infinite satisfaction,
and swearing by sundry strange oaths,
that their captain “could talk, when there was
need of such thing, like the best Dictionary that
ever was launched.”

During this short harangue, and the subsequent
comments, the Ariel had been kept, under a cloud
of canvass, as near to the wind as she could lie,
and as this was her best sailing, she had stretched
swiftly out from the land, to a distance whence the
cliffs, and the soldiers who were spread along their
summits, became plainly visible. Barnstable
turned his glass repeatedly, from the cutter to the
shore, as different feelings predominated in his
breast, before he again spoke.

“If Mr. Griffith is stowed away among those
rocks,” he at length said, “he shall see as pretty
an argument discussed, in as few words, as he
ever listened to, provided the gentlemen in yonder
cutter have not changed their minds as to the
road they intend to journey—what think you, Mr.
Merry?”

“I wish with all my heart and soul, sir,” returned
the fearless boy, “that Mr. Griffith was
safe aboard us; it seems the country is alarmed,
and God knows what will happen if he is taken!
as to the fellow to windward, he'll find it easier
to deal with the Ariel's boat, than with her mother;

but he carries a broad sail, I question if he
means to show play.”

“Never doubt him, boy,” said Barnstable,
“he is working off the shore, like a man of sense,
and besides, he has his spectacles on, trying to
make out what tribe of Yankee Indians we belong
to. You'll see him come to the wind presently,
and send a few pieces of iron down this way, by
the way of letting us know where to find him.
Much as I like your first lieutenant, Mr. Merry,
I would rather leave him on the land this day,
than see him on my decks. I want no fighting
captain to work this boat for me! but tell the
drummer, sir, to beat to quarters.”

The boy, who was staggering under the weight
of his melodious instrument, had been expecting
this command, and, without waiting for the midshipman
to communicate the order, he commenced
that short rub-a-dub air, that will at any
time rouse a thousand men from the deepest
sleep, and cause them to fly to their means of offence,
with a common soul. The crew of the
Ariel had been collected in groups, studying the
appearance of the enemy, cracking their jokes, and
waiting only for this usual order to repair to the
guns; and at the first tap of the drum, they
spread with steadiness to the different parts of
the little vessel, where their various duties called
them. The cannon were surrounded by small
parties of vigorous and athletic young men; the
few marines were drawn up in array with muskets;
the officers appeared in their boarding caps, with
pistols stuck in their belts and naked sabres
in their hands. Barnstable paced his little quarter-deck
with a firm tread, dangling a speaking
trumpet, by its lanyard, on his fore-finger, or
occasionally applying the glass to his eye, which,
when not in use, was placed under one arm,

while his sword was resting against the foot of
the mainmast; a pair of heavy ship's pistols were
thrust in his belt also; and piles of muskets,
boarding-pikes, and naked sabres, were placed
on different parts of the deck. The laugh of the
seamen was heard no longer; and those who
spoke, uttered their thoughts only in low and indistinct
whispers.

The English cutter held her way from the land,
until she got an offing of more than two miles,
when she reduced her sails to a yet smaller number,
and heaving into the wind, she fired a gun
in a direction opposite to that which pointed to
the Ariel.

“Now I would wager a quintal of codfish,
Master Coffin,” said Barnstable, “against the
best cask of porter that was ever brewed in England,
that fellow believes a Yankee schooner can
fly in the wind's eye! If he wishes to speak to us,
why don't he give his cutter a little sheet, and
come down.”

The cockswain had made his arrangements for
the combat, with much more method and philosophy
than any other man in the vessel. When the
drum beat to quarters, he threw aside his jacket,
vest, and shirt, with as little hesitation as if he
stood under an American sun, and with all the
discretion of a man who had engaged in an undertaking
that required the free use of his utmost
powers. As he was known to be a privileged individual
in the Ariel, and one whose opinions, in
all matters of seamanship, were regarded as oracles
by the crew, and were listened to by his commander
with no little demonstration of respect,
the question excited no surprise. He was standing
at the breech of his long gun, with his brawny
arms folded on a breast that had been turned to
the colour of blood by long exposure, his grizzled

locks fluttering in the breeze, and his tall
form towering far above the heads of all near him.

“He hugs the wind, sir, as if it was his sweet-heart,”
was his answer; “but he'll let go his hold,
soon; and if he don't, we can find a way to make
him fall to leeward.”

“Keep a good full!” cried the commander, in
a stern voice, “and let the vessel go through the
water. That fellow walks well, long Tom; but
we are too much for him on a bowline; though,
if he continue to draw ahead in this manner, it
will be night before we can get alongside him.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” returned the cockswain; “them
cutters carries a press of canvass, when they seem
to have but little; their gafts are all the same as
young booms, and spread a broad head to their
mainsails. But it's no hard matter to knock a
few cloths out of their bolt-ropes, when she will
both drop astarn and to leeward.”

“I believe there is good sense in your scheme,
this time,” said Barnstable, “for I am anxious
about the frigate's people—though I hate a noisy
chase; speak to him, Tom, and let us see if he
will answer.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” cried the cockswain, sinking his
body in such a manner as to let his head fall to a
level with the cannon that he controlled, when,
after divers orders, and sundry movements, to
govern the direction of the piece, he applied a
match, with a rapid motion, to the priming. An
immense body of white smoke rushed from the
muzzle of the cannon, followed by a sheet of
vivid fire, until, losing its power, it yielded to the
wind, and, as it rose from the water, spread
like a cloud, and, passing through the masts of
the schooner, was driven far to leeward, and
soon blended in the mists which were swiftly
scudding before the fresh breezes of the ocean.

Although many curious eyes were watching
this beautiful sight from the cliffs, there was too
little of novelty in the exhibition to attract a single
look, of the crew of the schooner, from the
more important examination of the effect of the
shot on their enemy. Barnstable sprang lightly
on a gun, and watched the instant when the ball
would strike, with keen interest, while long Tom
threw himself aside from the line of the smoke,
with a similar intention; holding one of his long
arms extended towards his namesake, with a finger
on the vent, and supporting his frame by
placing the hand of the other on the deck, as his
eyes glanced through an opposite port-hole, in an
attitude that most men might have despaired of
imitating with success.

“There go the chips!” cried Barnstable.
“Bravo! Master Coffin, you never planted iron
in the ribs of an Englishman with more judgment;
let him have another piece of it, and if he
like the sport, we'll play a game of long bowls
with him!”

“Ay, ay, sir,” returned the cockswain, who,
the instant he witnessed the effects of his shot,
had returned to superintend the reloading of his
gun; “if he holds on half an hour longer, I'll
dub him down to our own size, when we can
close, and make an even fight of it.”

The drum of the Englishman was now, for the
first time, heard, rattling across the waters, and
echoing the call to quarters, that had already
proceeded from the Ariel.

“Ah! you have sent him to his guns!” said
Barnstable; “we shall now hear more of it;
wake him up, Tom—wake him up.”

“We shall start him an end, or put him to
sleep altogether, shortly,” said the deliberate
cockswain, who never allowed himself to be at

all hurried, even by his commander. “My shot
are pretty much like a shoal of porpoises, and
commonly sail in each others' wake. Stand by—
heave her breech forward—so; get out of that,
you damned young reprobate, and let my harpoon
alone.”

“What are you at, there, Master Coffin?”
cried Barnstable; “are you tongue-tied?”

“Here's one of the boys skylarking with my
harpoon in the lee scuppers, and by-and-by, when
I shall want it most, there'll be a no-man's-land
to hunt for it in.”

“Never mind the boy, Tom; send him aft
here, to me, and I'll polish his behaviour; give
the Englishman some more iron.”

“I want the little villain to pass up my cartridges,”
returned the angry old seaman; “but
if you'll be so good, sir, as to hit him a crack or
two, now and then, as he goes by you to the magazine,
the monkey will learn his manners, and
the schooner's work will be all the better done for
it. A young herring-faced monkey! to meddle
with a tool ye don't know the use of. If
your parents had spent more of their money on
your edication, and less on your outfit, you'd
ha' been a gentleman to what ye are now.”

“Hurrah! Tom, hurrah!” cried Barnstable,
a little impatiently; “is your namesake never to
open his throat again!”

“Ay, ay, sir; all ready,” grumbled the cockswain,
“depress a little; so—so; a damn'd
young baboon-behav'd curmudgeon; overhaul
that forward fall more; stand by with your match
—but I'll pay him! fire.” This was the actual
commencement of the fight; for as the shot of
Tom Coffin travelled, as he had intimated, very
much in the same direction, their enemy found
the sport becoming too hot to be endured in silence;

and the report of the secoud gun from the
Ariel, was instantly followed by that of the whole
broadside of the Alacrity. The shot of the cutter
flew in a very good direction, but her guns
were too light to give them efficiency at that distance,
and as one or two were heard to strike
against the bends of the schooner, and fall back,
innocuously, into the water, the cockswain, whose
good humour became gradually restored, as the
combat thickened, remarked, with his customary
apathy—

“Them count for no more than love taps—
does the Englishman think that we are firing salutes!”

“Stir him up, Tom! every blow you give him
will help to open his eyes,” cried Barnstable,
rubbing his hands with glee, as he witnessed the
success of his efforts to close.

Thus far the cockswain and his crew had the
fight, on the part of the Ariel, altogether to themselves,
the men who were stationed at the smaller
and shorter guns, standing in perfect idleness by
their sides; but in ten or fifteen minutes the commander
of the Alacrity, who had been staggered
by the weight of the shot that had struck him,
found that it was no longer in his power to retreat,
if he wished it; when he decided on the
only course that was left for a brave man to pursue,
and steered, boldly, in such a direction as
would soonest bring him in contact with his enemy,
without exposing his vessel to be raked by his
fire. Barnstable watched each movement of his
foe with eagle eyes, and when the vessels had got
within a lessened distance, he gave the order for
a general fire to be opened. The action now
grew warm and spirited on both sides. The power
of the wind was counteracted by the constant
explosion of the cannon; and instead of driving

rapidly to leeward, a white canopy of curling
smoke hung above the Ariel, or rested on the water,
lingering in her wake, so as to mark the
path by which she was approaching to a closer
and still deadlier struggle. The shouts of the
young sailors, as they handled their instruments
of death, became more animated and fierce, while
the cockswain pursued his occupation with the
silence and skill of one who laboured in a regular
vocation. Barnstable was unusually composed
and quiet, maintaining the grave deportment of
a commander on whom rested the fortunes of the
contest, at the same time that his dark eyes
were dancing with the fire of suppressed animation.

“Give it them!” he occasionally cried, in a
voice that might be heard amid the bellowing of
the cannon; “never mind their cordage, my lads;
drive home their bolts, and make your marks below
their ridge ropes.”

In the mean time, the Englishman played a
manful game. He had suffered a heavy loss by
the distant cannonade, which no metal he possessed
could retort upon his enemy; but he struggled
nobly to repair the error in judgment with
which he had begun the contest. The two vessels
gradually drew nigher to each other, until
they both entered into the common cloud, created
by their fire, which thickened and spread around
them in such a manner as to conceal their dark
hulls from the gaze of the curious and interested
spectators on the cliffs. The heavy reports of
the cannon were now mingled with the rattling of
muskets and pistols, and, streaks of fire might
be seen, glancing like flashes of lightning through
the white cloud, which enshrouded the combatants,
and many minutes of painful uncertainty followed,

before the deeply interested soldiers, who were
gazing at the scene, discovered on whose banners
victory had alighted.

We shall follow the combatants into their misty
wreath, and display to the reader the events as
they occurred.

The fire of the Ariel was much the most quick
and deadly, both because she had suffered less, and
her men were less exhausted; and the cutter stood
desperately on to decide the combat, after grappling,
hand to hand. Barnstable anticipated her
intention, and well understood her commander's
reason for adopting this course, but he was not a
man to calculate coolly his advantages, when
pride and daring invited him to a more severe
trial. Accordingly, he met the enemy half-way,
and, as the vessels rushed together, the stern of the
schooner was secured to the bows of the cutter, by
the joint efforts of both parties. The voice of the
English commander was now plainly to be heard,
in the uproar, calling to his men to follow him.

“Away there, boarders! repel boarders on the
starboard quarter!” shouted Barnstable through
his trumpet.

This was the last order that the gallant young
sailor gave with this instrument, for, as he spoke,
he cast it from him, and seizing his sabre, flew
to the spot where the enemy was about to make
his most desperate effort. The shouts, execrations,
and tauntings of the combatants, now succeeded
to the roar of the cannon, which could be
used no longer with effect, though the fight was
still maintained with spirited discharges of the
small arms.

“Sweep him from his decks!” cried the English
commander, as he appeared on his own bulwarks,
surrounded by a dozen of his bravest men; “drive
the rebellious dogs into the sea!”

“Away there, marines!” retorted Barnstable,

firing his pistol at the advancing enemy; “leave
not a man of them to sup his grog again.”

The tremendous and close volley that succeeded
this order, nearly accomplished the command of
Barnstable to the letter, and the commander of
the Alacrity, perceiving that he stood alone,
reluctantly fell back on the deck of his own vessel,
in order to bring on his men once more.

“Board her! gray beards and boys, idlers
and all!” shouted Barnstable, springing in advance
of his crew—a powerful arm arrested the
movement of the dauntless seaman, and before
he had time to recover himself, he was drawn violently
back to his own vessel, by the irresistible
grasp of his cockswain.

“The fellow's in his flurry,” said Tom, “and
it wouldn't be wise to go within reach of his
flukes; but I'll just step ahead and give him a set
with my harpoon.”

Without waiting for a reply, the cockswain
reared his tall frame on the bulwarks, and was in
the attitude of stepping on board of his enemy,
when a sea separated the vessels, and he fell with
a heavy dash of the waters into the ocean. As
twenty muskets and pistols were discharged at the
instant he appeared, the crew of the Ariel supposed
his fall to be occasioned by his wounds, and
were rendered doubly fierce by the sight, and the
cry of their commander to—

“Revenge long Tom! board her; long Tom
or death!”

They threw themselves forward in irresistible
numbers, and forced a passage, with much blood-shed,
to the forecastle of the Alacrity. The Englishman
was overpowered, but still remained undaunted—he
rallied his crew, and bore up most
gallantly to the fray. Thrusts of pikes, and blows
of sabres were becoming close and deadly, while

muskets and pistols were constantly discharged
by those who were kept at a distance by the pressure
of the throng of closer combatants.

Barnstable led his men, in advance, and became
a mark of peculiar vengeance to his enemies,
as they slowly yielded before his vigorous assaults.
Chance had placed the two commanders
on opposite sides of the cutter's deck, and the
victory seemed to incline towards either party,
wherever these daring officers directed the struggle
in person. But the Englishman, perceiving
that the ground he maintained in person was lost
elsewhere, made an effort to restore the battle by
changing his position, followed by one or two
of his best men. A marine, who preceded him,
levelled his musket within a few feet of the
head of the American commander, and was about
to fire, when Merry glided among the combatants,
and passed his dirk into the body of the man,
who fell at the blow; shaking his piece, with
horrid imprecations, the wounded soldier prepared
to deal his vengeance on his youthful assailant,
when the fearless boy leaped within its muzzle, and
buried his own keen weapon in his heart.

“Hurrah!” shouted the unconscious Barnstable,
from the edge of the quarter-deck, where,
attended by a few men, he was driving all before
him. “Revenge—long Tom and victory!”

“We have them!” exclaimed the Englishman;
“handle your pikes! we have them between two
fires.”

The battle would probably have terminated
very differently from what previous circumstances
had indicated, had not a wild looking figure appeared
in the cutter's channels at that moment,
issuing from the sea, and gaining the deck at the
same instant. It was long Tom, with his iron
visage rendered fierce by his previous discomfiture,

and his grizzled locks drenched with the
briny element, from which he had risen, looking
like Neptune with his trident. Without speaking,
he poised his harpoon, and with a powerful
effort, pinned the unfortunate Englishman to
the mast of his own vessel.

“Starn all!” cried Tom, by a sort of instinct,
when the blow was struck; and catching up the
musket of the fallen marine, he dealt out terrible
and fatal blows with its butt, on all who approached
him, utterly disregarding the use of the
bayonet on its muzzle. The unfortunate commander
of the Alacrity brandished his sword with
frantic gestures, while his eyes rolled in horrid
wildness, when he writhed for an instant in his
passing agonies, and then, as his head dropped
lifeless upon his gored breast, he hung against the
spar, a spectacle of dismay to his crew. A
few of the Englishmen stood, chained to the spot
in silent horror at the sight, but most of them fled
to their lower deck, or hastened to conceal themselves
in the secret parts of the vessel, leaving to the
Americans the undisputed possession of the Alacrity.

Two thirds of the cutter's crew suffered either
in life or limbs, by this short struggle; nor was
the victory obtained by Barnstable without paying
the price of several valuable lives. The first burst
of conquest was not, however, the moment to appreciate
the sacrifice, and loud and reiterated
shouts, proclaimed the exultation of the conquerors.
As the flush of victory subsided, however,
recollection returned, and Barnstable issued such
orders as humanity and his duty rendered necessary.
While the vessels were separating, and
the bodies of the dead and wounded were removing,
the conqueror paced the deck of his
prize, as if lost in deep reflection. He passed his

hand, frequently, across his blackened and blood-stained
brow, while his eyes would rise to examine
the vast canopy of smoke that was hovering
above the vessels, like a dense fog exhaling from
the ocean. The result of his deliberations was
soon announced to his crew.

“Haul down all your flags,” he cried; “set
the Englishman's colours again, and show the
enemy's jack above our own ensign in the Ariel.”

The appearance of the whole channel-fleet within
half gun shot, would not have occasioned more
astonishment among the victors, than this extraordinary
mandate. The wondering seamen suspended
their several employments, to gaze at the
singular change that was making in the flags,
those symbols that were viewed with a sort of reverence,
but none presumed to comment openly on
the procedure, except long Tom, who stood on the
quarter-deck of the prize, straightening the pliable
iron of the harpoon which he had recovered,
with as much care and diligence as if it were necessary
to the maintenance of their conquest.
Like the others, however, he suspended his employment,
when he heard this order, and manifested
no reluctance to express his dissatisfaction
at the measure.

“If the Englishmen grumble at the fight, and
think it not fair play,” muttered the old cockswain,
“let us try it over again, sir; as they are
somewhat short of hands, they can send a boat
to the land, and get off a gang of them lazy riptyles,
the soldiers, who stand looking at us, like
so many red lizzards crawling on a beach, and
we'll give them another chance; but damme, if I
see the use of whipping them, if this is to be the
better-end of the matter.”

“What's that you're grumbling there, like a dead
north-easter, you horse mackerel!” said Barnstable;

“where are our friends and countrymen
who are on the land! are we to leave them to
swing on gibbets or rot in dungeons!”

The cockswain listened with great earnestness,
and when his commander had spoken, he struck
the palm of his broad hand against his brawny
thigh, with a report like a pistol, and answered,

“I see how it is, sir; you reckon the red coats
have Mr. Griffith in tow. Just run the schooner
into shoal water, Captain Barnstable, and drop
an anchor, where we can get the long gun to bear
on them, and give me the whale-boat and five or
six men to back me—they must have long legs
if they get an offing before I run them aboard!”

“Fool! do you think a boat's crew could contend
with fifty armed soldiers!”

“Soldiers!” echoed Tom, whose spirits had
been strongly excited by the conflict, snapping
his finger with ineffable disdain, “that for all
the soldiers that were ever rigged: one whale could
kill a thousand of them! and here stands the man
that has kill'd his round hundred of whales!”

“Pshaw, you grampus, do you turn braggart
in your old age!”

“It's no bragging, sir, to speak a log-book
truth! but if Captain Barnstable thinks that
old Tom Coffin carries a speaking trumpet for a
figure head, let him pass the word forrard to man
the boats.”

“No, no, my old master at the marlingspike,”
said Barnstable, kindly, “I know thee too well,
thou brother of Neptune! but, shall we not throw
the bread-room dust in those Englishmen's eyes,
by wearing their bunting awhile, till something
may offer to help our captured countrymen.”

The cockswain shook his head, and cogitated
a moment, as if struck with sundry new ideas,
when he answered—

“Ay, ay, sir; that's blue-water-philosophy:
as deep as the sea! Let the riptyles clew up the
corners of their mouths to their eye-brows, now!
when they come to hear the ra'al yankee truth
of the matter, they will sheet them down to their
leather neckcloths!”

With this reflection the cockswain was much
consoled, and the business of repairing damages
and securing the prize, proceeded without further
interruption on his part. The few prisoners who
were unhurt, were rapidly transferred to the
Ariel. While Barnstable was attending to this
duty, an unusual bustle drew his eyes to one of
the hatchways, where he beheld a couple of his
marines dragging forward a gentleman, whose
demeanour and appearance indicated the most abject
terror. After examining the extraordinary
appearance of this individual, for a moment, in
silent amazement, the lieutenant exclaimed—

“Who have we here! some amateur in fights!
an inquisitive, wonder-seeking non-combatant,
who has volunteered to serve his king, and perhaps
draw a picture, or write a book, to serve
himself! Pray, sir, in what capacity did you
serve in this vessel?”

The captive ventured a sidelong glance at his
interrogator, in whom he expected to encounter
Griffith, but perceiving that it was a face he did
not know, he felt a revival of confidence that enabled
him to reply—

“I came here by accident; being on board
the cutter at the time her late commander determined
to engage you. It was not in his power
to land me, as I trust you will not hesitate to do;
your conjecture of my being a non-combatant—”

“Is perfectly true,” interrupted Barnstable;
“it requires no spy-glass to read that name written
on you from stem to stern; but for certain
weighty reasons—”

He paused to turn at a signal given him by
young Merry, who whispered eagerly in his ear—

“'Tis Mr. Dillon, kinsman of Colonel Howard;
I've seen him often, sailing in the wake of
my cousin Cicily.”

“Dillon!” exclaimed Barnstable, rubbing his
hands with pleasure; “what, Kit of that name!
he with `the Savannah face, eyes of black, and
skin of the same colour;' he's grown a little
whiter with fear; but he's a prize, at this moment,
worth twenty Alacritys!”

These exclamations were made in a low voice,
and at some little distance from the prisoner,
whom he now approached, and addressed—

“Policy, and consequently duty, require that
I should detain you for a short time, sir; but you
shall have a sailor's welcome to whatever we possess,
to lessen the weight of captivity.”

Barnstable precluded any reply, by bowing to
his captive, and turning away, to superintend the
management of his vessels. In a short time it
was announced that they were ready to make sail,
when the Ariel and her prize were brought
close to the wind, and commenced beating slowly
along the land, as if intending to return to the
bay whence the latter had sailed that morning.
As they stretched into the shore, on the first
tack, the soldiers on the cliffs rent the air with
their shouts and acclamations, to which Barnstable,
pointing to the assumed symbols that were fluttering
in the breeze from his masts, directed his
crew to respond in the most cordial manner. As
the distance, and the want of boats, prevented
any further communication, the soldiers, after gazing
at the receding vessels for a time, disappeared
from the cliffs, and were soon lost from the sight
of the adventurous mariners. Hour after hour
was consumed in the tedious navigation, against

an adverse tide, and the short day was drawing to
a close, before they approached the mouth of their
destined haven. As they made one of their numerous
stretches, to and from the land, the cutter,
in which Barnstable continued, passed the
victim of their morning's sport, riding on the
water, the waves curling over his huge carcass as
on some rounded rock, and already surrounded
by the sharks, who were preying on his defenceless
body.

“See! Master Coffin,” cried the lieutenant,
pointing out the object to his cockswain, as they
glided by it, “the shovel-nosed gentlemen are
regaling daintily; you have neglected the christian's
duty of burying your dead.”

The old seaman cast a melancholy look at the
dead whale, and replied,

“If I had the creatur in Boston Bay, or on
the Sandy Point of Munny-Moy, 'twould be the
making of me! But riches and honour are for
the great and the larned, and there's nothing left
for poor Tom Coffin to do, but to veer and haul
on his own rolling-tackle, that he may ride out
the rest of the gale of life, without springing any
of his old spars.”

“How now, long Tom!” cried his officer,
“these rocks and cliffs will shipwreck you on
the shoals of poetry yet; you grow sentimental!”

“Them rocks might wrack any vessel that
struck them,” said the literal cockswain; “and
as for poetry, I wants none better than the good
old song of Captain Kid; but it's enough to raise
solemn thoughts in a Cape Poge Indian, to see
an eighty barrel whale devoured by shirks—'tis
an awful waste of property! I've seen the death
of two hundred of the creaturs, though it seems
to keep the rations of poor old long Tom as short
as ever.”

The cockswain walked aft, while the vessel was
passing the whale, and seating himself on the
taffrail, with his face resting gloomily on his bony
hand, he fastened his eyes on the object of his solicitude,
and continued to gaze at it with melancholy
regret, until it was no longer to be seen
glistening in the sunbeams, as it rolled its glittering
side of white into the air, or the rays fell
unreflected on the black and rougher coat of the
back of the monster. In the mean time, the navigators
diligently pursued their way for the
haven we have mentioned, into which they
steered with every appearance of the fearlessness
of friends, and the exultation of conquerors.

A few eager and gratified spectators lined the
edges of the small bay, and Barnstable concluded
his arrangement for deceiving his enemy, by admonishing
his crew, that they were now about to
enter on a service that would require their utmost
intrepidity and sagacity.