She evidently did not like our appearance,
for the instant the breeze reached her she crowded all sail and showed
us her stern. As the breeze had moderated a little, our top-sails were
again shaken out, and it soon became evident--despite the proverb, "A
stern chase is a long one"--that we doubled her speed and would
overhaul her speedily. When within a mile we hoisted British colours,
but receiving no acknowledgment, the captain ordered a shot to be fired
across her bows. In a moment, to my surprise, a large portion of the
bottom of the boat amidships was removed, and in the hole thus exposed
appeared an immense brass gun. It worked on a swivel, and was elevated
by means of machinery. It was quickly loaded and fired. The heavy ball
struck the water a few yards ahead of the chase, and ricochetting into
the air, plunged into the sea a mile beyond it.
This produced the desired effect. The strange vessel backed her
top-sails and hove-to, while we ranged up and lay-to about a hundred
yards off.
"Lower the boat," cried the captain.
In a second the boat was lowered and manned by a part of the crew, who
were all armed with cutlasses and pistols. As the captain passed me to
get into it, he said, "Jump into the stern-sheets, Ralph; I may want
you." I obeyed, and in ten minutes more we were standing on the
stranger's deck. We were all much surprised at the sight that met our
eyes. Instead of a crew of such sailors as we were accustomed to see,
there were only fifteen blacks, standing on the quarter-deck and
regarding us with looks of undisguised alarm.
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