astonished me was that nobody on board thought of shooting him before he
got to the helm, in which case we never could have got on board the
vessel, considering the speed she was going through the water. What he
did was a glorious piece of pluck, that in these days would have been
rewarded with the Victoria Cross as the least recompense they could have
given to so gallant an officer. Poor fellow! all the reward he got,
beyond the intense admiration of those who saw him, was a bad attack of
small-pox from the diseased _animals_ (there is no other name for
negroes in the state they were in) on board the slave-vessel, which
somewhat injured the face of one of the handsomest men I ever saw. He is
now an admiral, has done many gallant acts since then, but none could
beat what he did on that memorable morning.

I have said that I was among those who were wounded on this occasion.
What my friend A.C. did so far outshone anything that I had
accomplished, that it is hardly worth while speaking of my share in the
fray. However, as I am writing sketches from my life, I will not omit to
describe the way in which I was wounded. We were, as I have said, making
a rush to assist our gallant leader, who was alone on board the slaver.
The reader will have seen that our business was boarding and fighting
our enemy hand to hand. As I was making a jump on board I saw the white
of the eye of a great black man turned on me; he brandished a huge axe,
which I had a sort of presentiment was intended for me. I sprang as it
were straight at my destiny, for as I grasped the gunnel down came the
axe, and I received the full edge of the beastly thing across the back
of my hand. I fell into the water, but was picked up by my sailors, and
managed to get on board again. Had it not been for a clever young
assistant surgeon, who bound up the wound in a most scientific manner, I
should probably have quite lost the use of my hand; the mark remains
across my knuckles to this day.