hundred musket--balls, while three hundred soldiers in their foraging
jackets, and with their loaded muskets in their hands, were lying on the
deck, concealed by the quarters, while the blue jackets were sprawling in
groups round the carronades.

I was lying down beside the gallant old Major, who had a bugler close to
him, while Crowfoot was standing on the gun nearest us; but getting tired
of this recumbent position, I crept aft, until I could see through a spare
port.

"Why don't the rascals fire?" quoth Sawrasp.

"Oh, that would alarm the Commodore. They intend to walk quietly on board
of us; but they will find themselves mistaken a little," whispered
Crowfoot.

"Mind, men, no firing till the bugle sounds," said the Major.

The word was passed along.

The schooner was by this time ploughing through it within half pistolshot,
with the white water dashing away from her bows, and buzzing past her
sides her crew as thick as peas on her deck. Once or twice she hauled her
wind a little, and then again kept away from us, as if irresolute what to
do. At length, without hailing, and all silent as the grave, she put her
helm a--starboard, and ranged alongside.

"Now, my boys, give it him," shouted Crowfoot--"Fire!"

"Ready, men," shouted the Major--"Present--fire!"