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Towards half-past one, the colonists embarked in the boat to visit the wreck. It was to be regretted that the brig's two boats had not been saved; but one, as has been said, had gone to pieces at the mouth of the Mercy, and was absolutely useless; the other had disappeared when the brig went down, and had not again been seen, having doubtless been crushed.
We lowered down all the quarter-boats, and towed round the brig's broadside to her, and then gave her half a dozen carronades of round and grape. Hearing great noise and confusion on board after we had ceased firing, O'Brien again sent me to know if they had surrendered. They replied in the affirmative, and I boarded her.
In an instant the brig's bows were cut down to the water's edge. I sung out to those on deck to follow me, and clung on to whatever I could first get hold of. It proved to be the ship's bobstay. I climbed up it on to the bowsprit, and, as I looked down, I saw her going right over the vessel I had just left her decks sinking from sight beneath the dark waters.
The brig's crew still offered a gallant resistance, but the British blood was by this time fairly at boiling point, and, grimly silent, the blue-jackets laid about them in such terrible earnest with fist and cutlass, belaying-pin, clubbed musket, sponge, rammer, or any other effective weapon that they could lay hands upon, that their rush became irresistible, and their antagonists gave way before them in terror.
They were powerful fellows, swarthy as Arabs, with gold rings in their ears, the devil in their hearts, and a smattering of many languages on their tongues. The gale that had driven the brig on the Squid Rocks had interrupted them in the hatching of a mutiny against their captain, mate and boatswain; for the brig's cargo consisted of silks and wines for the smugglers of St.
If, on the other hand, the brig's longboat had happened to be in the water, or some other craft big enough to accomplish the voyage in safety I pulled myself up suddenly, for a distinctly audacious idea had at that moment occurred to me as well worthy of consideration. Why not take the brig herself?
As the smoke of our guns blew away to leeward, and we prepared to tack again preparatory to passing once more athwart the brig's stern, I got a full and clear view of the stranger, who approaching us from to windward had hitherto been hidden from us by the brig and by the smoke of our combined cannonade.
Jackwell leaned over the taffrail and gazed calmly down at us. "That's it, boys, give it to her. You'll soon catch us and be towing us back again. Sink me, Rolling, but you're the biggest fool I ever saw," he said. I saw the water rippling away from the brig's side, and now could see the disturbance under her stern where a small wheel turned rapidly. "Throw us a line," I cried to Jackwell.
Lingard caught up the sculls, and as the dinghy darted away from the brig's side he had a complete view of the lighted poop Shaw leaning massively over the taffrail in sulky dejection, the flare bearers erect and rigid, the heads along the rail, the eyes staring after him above the bulwarks.
Apparently the brig's batteries were too greatly damaged and her crew too badly shot up to offer an effective bombardment. She was drifting helplessly under tattered ribbons of canvas and the Royal James, whose sails had suffered far less, bore down upon her opponent with the swoop of a hawk.
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