hand-to-hand fight. At the bow the British burst through the
boarding-netting, and forced their way to the deck, killing or
wounding all three of the lieutenants of the privateer; but when
this had happened the boats had elsewhere been beaten back, and
Reid, rallying his grim sea-dogs, led them forward with a rush,
and the boarding party were all killed or tumbled into the sea.
This put an end to the fight. In some of the boats none but
killed and wounded men were left. The others drew slowly off,
like crippled wild-fowl, and disappeared in the darkness toward
the British squadron. Half of the attacking force had been killed
or wounded, while of the Americans but nine had fallen.

The British commodore and all his officers were maddened with
anger and shame over the repulse, and were bent upon destroying
the privateer at all costs. Next day, after much exertion, one of
the war-brigs was warped into position to attack the American,
but she first took her station at long range, so that her
carronades were not as effective as the pivot gun of the
privateer; and so well was the latter handled, that the British
brig was repeatedly hulled, and finally was actually driven off.
A second attempt was made, however, and this time the
sloop-of-war got so close that she could use her heavy
carronades, which put the privateer completely at her mercy. Then
Captain Reid abandoned his brig and sank her, first carrying
ashore the guns, and marched inland with his men. They were not
further molested; and, if they had lost their brig, they had at
least made their foes pay dear for her destruction, for the
British had lost twice as many men as there were in the whole
hard-fighting crew of the American privateer.