watching for hours together, like a veteran mouser intent on a rat-hole.
So sure as a boat put off for shore, and came within shot, bang! went
the great goose-gun; a shower of slugs and buck-shot whistled about the
ears of the enemy, and before the boat could reach the shore, Jacob had
scuttled up some woody ravine, and left no trace behind. About this
time, the Roost experienced a vast accession of warlike importance, in
being made one of the stations of the water-guard. This was a kind of
aquatic corps of observation, composed of long, sharp, canoe-shaped
boats, technically called whale-boats, that lay lightly on the water,
and could be rowed with great rapidity. They were manned by resolute
fellows, skilled at pulling an oar, or handling a musket. These lurked
about in nooks and bays, and behind those long promontories which run
out into the Tappan Sea, keeping a look-out, to give notice of the
approach or movements of hostile ships. They roved about in pairs;
sometimes at night, with muffled oars, gliding like spectres about
frigates and guard-ships riding at anchor, cutting off any boats that
made for shore, and keeping the enemy in constant uneasiness. These
mosquito-cruisers generally kept aloof by day, so that their harboring
places might not be discovered, but would pull quietly along, under
shadow of the shore, at night, to take up their quarters at the Roost.
Hither, at such time, would also repair the hard-riding lads of the
hills, to hold secret councils of war with the "ocean chivalry;" and in
these nocturnal meetings were concerted many of those daring forays, by
land and water, that resounded throughout the border.

* * * * *

The chronicle here goes on to recount divers wonderful stories of the
wars of the Roost, from which it would seem, that this little warrior
nest carried the terror of its arms into every sea, from Spiting Devil