William Stoddard - The Noank's Log - A Privateer of the Revolution

"No miss!" he said. "Up-na-tan find out what big gun good for."

His first charge was going in, therefore, for a purpose of practical inquiry into the character of the long eighteen. The foundries of that day could not manufacture large weapons with mathematical precision. Hardly any two could be said to be exactly alike, except in appearance. It followed that each gun had good or bad features of its own. From ship to ship, throughout the royal navy, the gunners published the qualities of their brazen or iron favorites, and there were cannon of celebrity which old salts would go far to see.

The sound of the British firing came up somewhat dulled against the wind. It was not until they were out of the harbor that the sailors of the Noank discovered how really near were both friends and foes. The latter were still outside of the range of any of the fort guns. Hardly more than a mile and a half nearer was the whaleboat from Long Island. It could be seen that it was full of men, and they were showing splendid pluck, for they were rowing steadily, while every now and then a shot from the brig dropped dangerously near them. One iron bullet, hitting fairly, might knock their frail though swift craft all to pieces. Up went sail after sail upon the Noank , as she speeded along, and an officer on the British cruiser's deck had good reason for the astonishment with which he called out: —

"There she comes! You don't mean to say she's coming out to fight us?"

"It looks like it," responded another officer near him. "We can make match-wood of her if we can get close enough. I wish I knew what her armament is. These Yankees have more impudence!"

He did not have to wait many minutes before he learned something. The Noank whirled away upon the starboard tack around the point, and, just as she steadied herself upon her new course, out roared her pivot-gun.

Up-na-tan stood erect as soon as he touched off his piece, and he anxiously watched for the results.

"Ugh! whoop!" he shouted triumphantly. "Gun good! Shoot straight! Hit 'em!"

"Right!" said Captain Avery, who had been watching through a glass. "If the old pirate didn't land that shot on her! It's pretty long range, too."

"Load quick, now!" said the Indian. "Ole chief hit her again!"

His assistants were already feverishly busy with their loading, while he stood and proudly patted his cannon, very much as if it deserved praise and could appreciate his approval.

Loud were the exclamations of surprise and wrath on board the Boxer . No one had been killed or wounded, but the brig's longboat had been stove to bits, and all the pigs and chickens which had been cooped in it for the time being, and there were many of them, were running frantically about the main deck. That is, all but one large, fat pig, for he had suddenly been made pork of, and he would run and squeal no more.

The telescopes at the fort had also been taking observations, and loud cheers from the gathered garrison honored the crack shot of Up-na-tan. The crew of the Noank cheered lustily, and so did the rowers of the whaleboat. One of the fort batteries tried its guns a moment later, but all its shots fell short. Nevertheless, it was only a little short, and it warned the captain of the Boxer . He knew, now, about how much nearer it would be wise for him to run. Up-na-tan's next shot was well enough aimed, but it did no mischief. It went over the brig, with an unpleasant suggestion of what damage that sort of thing might do to spars and rigging.

"Luff! luff!" sang out the captain. "'Tisn't worth while to chase that boat any farther in. Let's see if we can't draw out the schooner. I'd like to get her away from those land batteries. They're too heavy metal for us."

"She has the wind of us," remarked his sailing master, doubtfully. "She can do as she pleases 'bout coming any too near."

"She's a clipper, anyhow," growled the captain. "Nothing can beat these New Englanders in handling canvas. The king needs every man of 'em."

His own sailors were just then more than a little busied with pig and poultry gathering, and one badly scared bird rashly flew overboard.

Captain Avery was to disappoint Up-na-tan and Coco. They were to have no more long-range practice with the eighteen-pounder.

One more shot that they sent was an unsatisfactory miss, and then the distance began to increase instead of diminishing, as the schooner went about.

"Our fellows are safe now," said Sam Prentice. "Here they come. Look at 'em! More Indians than white men."

None the less were they excellent oarsmen and daring freebooters, and before the end of the war the "whaleboat fleet," as it came to be called, was to earn a not altogether pleasant reputation.

Not many more minutes passed before the boat was near enough for a hail. In it, forward, stood up a tall white man, balancing himself and swinging his hat while he enthusiastically sent to the Noank : —

"Schooner ahoy! Hurrah! News from the Continental army! Gineral Washington smashed the redcoats! Beat 'em on Christmas day at Trenton! Then he follered 'em up and knocked Cornwallis all to flinders at Princeton! We're a-beginnin' to flail 'em! Hurrah!"

Wild was the cheering which answered him from the schooner. Some of the men began to dance, and Sam Prentice yelled: —

"Shake hands, Lyme Avery! I jest knew it'd come! I said so! We're goin' to flail 'em! Our turn's got here!"

Up-na-tan expressed his feelings in whoop after whoop, and Coco's yell was terrific.

"Won't the shore people jump?" said Guert Ten Eyck. "Oh! How I want to get in and tell mother!"

The news-bringer had described the Trenton victory fairly, but he had somewhat exaggerated the results of the severe fight at Princeton. Lord Cornwallis had not reported it in precisely that manner. The boat was now running along with the Noank , however, and the story of Washington's splendid work for liberty was fired into the schooner at short range, wadding and all. A pretty interesting conclusion for it was the account of the manner in which the news had been obtained in New York and carried along the Long Island shore, all the way to New London.

"We had to hug the land close," said the narrator, "but here we are."

"Home! Home!" shouted Captain Avery. "The folks must have this to cheer 'em up. It's the first bit of good news we've had in many a long day. Hurrah for George Washington! God bless him!"

It was an instantly arriving vexation, then, that the brisk breeze and the tide, so favorable for coming out, were not so much so for running in.

The Boxer's captain had also his vexations, for he shortly remarked: —

"There she goes! The boat's with her. We're not to have a chance at her to-day. If I can get at her, I'll sink her! She'll come out again."

That was precisely the purpose in the mind of Lyme Avery, and he did not intend any long delay, either.

"Blaze away! Gun at a time!" shouted Captain Avery, as the Noank tacked across the harbor mouth. "We can afford a few blank cartridges for such news as this is."

"The whaleboat's goin' to beat us gettin' in," replied Sam Prentice. "The folks'll know it all before we git there."

"Don't care if they do," said the captain. "We'll only be in port ag'in a few hours, anyhow. Night's our time. We know, now, jest what the cruiser is, and there doesn't seem to be another 'round."

The Noank's sixes were, therefore, shouting to the forts and the town that good news of some kind was coming. The men at the batteries heard and wondered, and grew impatient. They thought they knew all there was to be known of the mere exchange of shots with the Boxer . Their friends had not been harmed; neither had the brig; the whaleboat had escaped; and that was all that they could understand. Now, however, they saw the Noank sending up every American flag she had on board.