"Ah! you have come with an old flint-lock, have you?" said the sharpshooter as Enoch knelt beside him. "Do you think you can hit one of those Britishers working about that gun? Now look here: Sight your gun right there," he continued, making a mark with his thumb nail across the barrel. "Of course if they were in any reasonable distance that would throw the ball away over their heads; but we don't want to kill them so much as we want to scare them. Now try it at that."

Enoch drew up his flint-lock and one to have seen him would have thought that he meant to shoot at the cross-trees. Just then a Britisher ran forward with a cartridge in his hand to insert in the gun, but Enoch was waiting for him. The flint-lock roared, and the man stopped, dropped his cartridge to the deck and hurried aft holding his right hand as if he were very tender of it. The old sailor had made his sights just right.

"That's the way to do it," he exclaimed, stopping in his progress of driving a ball home long enough to pat Enoch on the head. "Throw the balls about their ears. That will frighten them even if it does not hurt them, and what we want is to keep them from firing that gun. Now let me see if I will have as good luck as I did before."

"That is to pay him for capturing Caleb," said Enoch. "I wish I knew where he is now. I don't want to send my bullets into the hull for fear that I will hit him."

The sailor tried it again and with just as good fortune as he had the previous time. Another Britisher caught up the cartridge and was going to put it into the gun, but he also dropped it and lay on the deck where he had stood. By this time all the sloop's men who had guns were congregated in the bow, and before they had all fired one round the gun was deserted.

"I knew we would put a stop to that," said the man who had fired the first shot. "Hold her to it, Zeke. We are gaining on her."

But Captain Moore was not yet whipped. He had three guns on a broadside which had not yet come into play, and all of a sudden his sails were let out and the schooner veered around to bring them into action. Before he had got fairly into position three flint-locks roared and two men dropped, one dead and the other seriously wounded. But the captain took up the position he wanted all the same, and the order to fire came distinctly to Enoch's ears. He thought he had never heard such a roar before as those little guns made when they were turned loose on the sloop. He thought his time had come, and held his breath expecting every instant to be his last. But the shells all flew wild. Not one of them came near the sloop. The provincials straightened up and fired three more bullets at the men who worked the guns, but the schooner was so obscured by the smoke of her cannons that they could not see what havoc they had made.

During this maneuver on the part of the pursued, the sloop had gained amazingly, and now they were within earshot of the Britishers. Thinking to avoid the further effusion of blood by prolonging the fighting Captain O'Brien called out —

"Do you surrender?"

"No!" returned Captain Moore's voice. "We will surrender when the last plank goes down."

And Captain Moore showed that he was in earnest. Almost with the words he lighted a hand-grenade which he carried in his arms, and threw it toward O'Brien. It did not come half way to the sloop but it exploded with stunning force and gave the provincials some idea of what was in store for them.

"Bring us alongside, Zeke," exclaimed Captain O'Brien, so impatient that he could not stand still. "If you can not manage her let somebody else go to the wheel."

"Bussin' on it, captain, I am doing the best I can," replied Zeke, working the wheel back and forth as if he hoped in that way to get some more speed out of her. "She will be alongside in five minutes."

But those five minutes were a long time to wait. The flint-locks were in close range now, and every time one of them spoke some body on the Britisher's side went down. It did not seem as though they had men enough to stand such a fusilade. Captain O'Brien was standing there with a rope in his hand, and when he had got it all coiled up he stepped over and took his place among the men who had flint-locks in their hands.

"Now, boys, protect me," said he. "Whenever our boat comes near enough I am going to catch the schooner and lash them fast. Enoch, go back and pick off the man at the wheel."

The boy started at once and without making any reply. He kept along close under the rail to be out of range of any one who was watching him from the schooner's deck, and when he came within sight of Zeke he was horrified to find him with his face all covered with blood.

"Oh Zeke, they have hit you," exclaimed Enoch.

"Don't I know that?" replied the wheelman, who stuck to his work as though there was nothing the matter with him. "But as long as they do not get me down I am going to stand up. Do you see that man alongside the schooner's wheel? Well he is the one that shot me."

Enoch took just one glance at the schooner and saw that the man referred to had just loaded his pistol and was now engaged in priming it. He cast frequent glances toward Zeke and grinned at him the while as if to tell him that his second shot would go to the mark; but he did not take notice of Enoch who, kneeling down behind the rail, brought his gun to bear on him. It spoke almost immediately, and the man dropped his pistol, turned part way around and sank down lifeless where he stood.

"There!" exclaimed Zeke. "That was a good shot. Now see if you can get that man at the wheel. That will leave her without any guiding hand, and before she can bring another man to helm I may be able to come up with her."

"I was sent here for that purpose," said Enoch, rolling over on his back and reaching for his powder-horn. "I am going to pick off every man they send there."

In a few minutes the gun was ready, after trying in vain to retain his hold of the spokes, the steersman went down in a heap. Of course the schooner came into the wind, and Zeke uttered a yell as she veered round broadside to the sloop; and in a moment more there was a rush of men from the deck and Enoch and Zeke were standing alone.

"Boarders away!" shouted Captain O'Brien, as he made the two vessels fast together. "Now, boys, show what you're are made of."

Zeke released his hold of the wheel, and caught up his club which stood beside him where he could get his hands upon it at a moment's warning; he cleared the rails of the vessels without using his hands, and Enoch lost sight of him in the fracas. Somehow, Enoch could not have told how it happened, he was close at his heels when he reached the schooner's deck, and between using his gun as a club to fell a man to the deck and making use of it as a parry to ward off a blow that somebody aimed at his head, he did not know anything more until he heard a voice exclaim in piteous accents:

"I surrender! I surrender!"

"Who is that?" shouted Captain O'Brien. "Do you all surrender? If you do, throw down your weapons."

There was a sound of dropping hand-spikes and cutlasses, and in an instant there was silence on the deck. The smoke of the hand-grenades with which the boarders had been greeted floated away after a while, and then the provincials were able to see what they had done and how great was the number of men that they had to mourn. Enoch was astounded. It did not seem possible for him to step in any direction without treading upon the body of friend or foe. The two bodies of men opposed to each other were about thirty on a side, and at least half that number were lying on the deck dead, or wounded so badly that they could not get up. He looked everywhere for Captain Moore, and finally found him with a saber-cut in his side. His first action had proved his death.

"Now the next thing is Caleb," said Enoch, starting toward the gangway to go below. "I hope that nothing has happened to him."

Enoch did not want to go on talking to himself in this way, for something told him that he might find his friend Caleb cold in death. He knew where the brig was and hurried down to it, and on the way he found half a dozen men who were wounded and the doctor and his assistant attending to their wants. It was a horrible sight, and Enoch turned away his head that he might not see it. A few steps brought him to the brig, and there was a hand stuck out to grasp his own. It was Caleb sure enough, and no signs of a wound on him. He was as jolly and full of fun as ever.

"Enoch, old boy, I knew you would not rest easy until you had got me," said Caleb. "Put it there."

"Are you not hurt a bit?" asked Enoch. He almost dreaded to ask the question for some how he seemed to think that no living boy could come out of that fight without being desperately wounded. Enoch did not stop to think of himself. He appeared to know that he was going to come out all right.

"Open the door and let me out," repeated Caleb, taking hold of the grating in front of him and shaking it with all his strength. "I have been in here long enough."

"Who has got the key?" asked Enoch. "If I can't find the key I shall have to chop the grating down."

"Do you know the boatswain?"

Enoch shook his head.

"Well, he is the one that has the key, and you will have to find him in order to get it. Say!" said Caleb, seizing his friend by the arm and pulling him up close to him. "I ought to 'start' that fellow. He was going to be awful mean to me if we had started for New York. Why don't you go and get the key?"

Enoch went but he did not know where he was going to find the boatswain. At the head of the gangway he met a Britisher coming down with his arm in a sling, and he asked him if he could show the man to him.

"Yes, I can," said the sailor. "He has gone to Davy's locker sure. I'll bet he won't start me any more. Come on and I will show him to you."

Enoch followed him to the deck and there, where the British had gathered to meet the boarders from the sloop and but a little way from his captain, lay the boatswain with an ugly thrust from a cutlass near his heart. By feeling of his pockets on the outside Enoch soon discovered his bunch of keys, and he soon had possession of them.

"You will not get a chance at that boatswain on this trip," said Enoch, as he proceeded to open the door. "He has gone where he can't hurt you nor anybody else by 'starting' him. He is killed."

He opened the door and Caleb fairly jumped into his arms. After they had embraced each other for a minute or two Caleb asked after his mother.

"Of course she felt very bad to know that you had been taken prisoner, but she did not cry," said Enoch. "I told her that when I came back to-night I should fetch you with me, and I am going to keep my promise."

"Let us go on deck and see how things look up there," said Caleb. "You had a lively time taking this boat. I never heard such a roar as these guns made."

If Caleb, when he was down below, thought things were lively, what must he have thought when he came out of the gangway and saw the number of men that had been killed and wounded during the fight! Almost the first man he saw was Captain Moore.

"How many men did you have on each side?" he asked in astonishment. "Did you shoot that old flint-lock of yours?"

"I did, but I shot to maim, not to kill. I couldn't do it. No doubt they would have used me worse than we will them, but you see they did not get the chance. There's Wheaton pulling down the flag. Let us go up and hear what he has to say."

The flag was already down and Wheaton was folding it up tenderly to carry it under his arm. Probably if it had been an American flag and the victory had been the other way, there would not have been so much attention shown it by the Britishers who pulled it down. Wheaton shook Caleb by the hand, asked him how he had fared as a prisoner in the power of the enemies of his country and said as he gathered up the flag —

"Captain O'Brien says that this is the first time this flag has ever been hauled down by a foe to England. She has made everybody strike to her, but she has struck to nobody. It would not have been pulled down now if she had treated us right. She will find before she gets through with it that a little flock of Yankees, to which her troops came so near to surrendering at Lexington, are as good as they make them. We have met them, man for man, and whipped them all."

CHAPTER XVI
AFTER THE BATTLE

"There, sir," said Captain O'Brien, drawing a long breath of relief and patting with his hand the British flag which Wheaton carried under his arm, "the Yankees have done the work. But there will be mourning when we get back to Machias. Who would have thought that those Britishers would have fought so desperately."

"Captain, they had guns, you know, and we had nothing heavier than flint-locks. Who would have thought that our men would have fought so desperately to accomplish an object? I tell you that each man deserves three hearty cheers to pay him for what he has done."

The fight was over, but now the dead and wounded had to be taken care of. After a short consultation with Wheaton and Zeke the captain decided that all the wounded men should be taken on board the schooner where there was a doctor and his assistant to take care of them, and all the prisoners were to go on board the sloop.

"You will have to stay aboard here with me and let the doctor look after your wound, Zeke," said the captain. "It is bleeding fearfully."

"Bussin' on it, I won't do it," said Zeke, earnestly. "As soon as I get some water to wash this blood off I will be all right. I stood at the helm of that sloop when she overhauled the schooner, and I am going to stand at her wheel when she goes into the harbor. That's a word with a bark on it."

Zeke turned away to hunt up a bucket to aid him in washing out his wound. Zeb Short was there with a club in his hand, and it was covered with blood, too. He had been listening to the words that passed between the captain and Zeke, and was evidently waiting for a chance to put in a word for himself.

"Were you hit?" asked Wheaton.

"Nary time," said Zeb, and his words and actions showed that it would take a better man than was to be found in the schooner's company to lay him up with a wound. "I don't believe in fighting, and for saying them words Zeke came pretty near punching me; but when you are in for it, why, you have got to do the best you can. How many men will you want to guard the sloop on the way in?"

"Let all the men who have flint-locks go aboard of her," answered the captain, "and let them stay around the wheel with Zeke. But first you must put all the unwounded prisoners in irons. Do you know where to find them?"

Zeb knew and dove down the hatchway out of sight. When he came back he had but six pairs of irons in his hand – "not enough to go all the way round," as he said. The prisoners who were still in a group on the forecastle, were ordered aft, and obediently held out their hands for the irons. Enoch and Caleb were close by watching the operation, and when the latter came to run his eye over the men he found that there was one of whom he had promised himself that he would say a good word if chance ever threw it in his way. It was the man who had given him the only bite to eat while he was in the brig.

"There is one fellow that must not be put in irons if I can help it," said he, making his way toward the captain. "He belongs on our side of the house and I know it."

Captain O'Brien listened with an amused expression on his face while Caleb told his story, and presently beckoned to the man to come over to where he was.

"What business have you got to serve under the British flag?" said Captain O'Brien.

"I haven't got any business at all, sir," said the sailor. "I shipped on board of that schooner because I wanted something to do. I belong on the Hudson River a little ways from New York."

"You are sure your sympathies are not with her?"

"No, sir. When I saw that flag come down it was all I could do to keep from cheering."

"Well, you don't want any irons on you. Stand up here beside me and you will be safe."

Caleb and Enoch were overjoyed to hear this decision on the part of their captain. When the sailor drew up a little behind O'Brien the boys tipped him a wink to let him know that he was among friends. Giving Caleb that mouthful of food was the best thing he ever did.

When the prisoners had been ironed they were ordered aboard the sloop and into the captain's cabin, where it was known they would be safe. To make assurance doubly sure Enoch was stationed at the head of the companion-way with his flint-lock for company, and Caleb stayed with him. The wounded were then transferred on board the schooner, and her new crew, without waiting orders to that effect, seized buckets and brooms and went to work to clear the deck of the battle-stains. Of course Caleb was anxious to know what had passed in the village during his absence, and his friend took this opportunity to enlighten him.

"I knew in a minute as soon as I found that tin bucket of yours all jammed in, that you had been captured and taken aboard the schooner," said Enoch. "Zeke knew it too, for I went and got him as soon as I missed you."

"Did you know that I was going off to New York?" asked Caleb.

"Well, we suspected as much, but we was not sure of it until James Howard told me of it. I wonder if there is not some way by which we can get even with that fellow."

"We will keep an eye on him when we get back," said Caleb, who somehow grew angry every time James' name was mentioned in his hearing. "If he conducts himself as any other boy would, we can't do anything with him. They will think right away that we are down on him and anxious to be revenged; but if he goes to cutting up those shines of his, why, then, it will put a different look on the case."

"Are you all ready, Zeke?" shouted Captain O'Brien, as he cast off the rope with which the vessels were lashed together.

"All ready, Cap," replied Zeke, hurrying aft and placing his hand upon the wheel.

"Then fill away in my wake. Zeb, go to the wheel. I am going as straight into Machias as I can go."

"I won't be far behind you. Fill away as soon as you please."

The two little vessels were pushed apart, the wind gradually filled their sails and they got under way for the harbor. Things looked different to Enoch from what they did when he came out. Six of his men, whom he had shaken by the hand every day, were dead, and nine were so badly hurt that he did not know whether or not he was ever going to see them again. He always thought that war was terrible, but now he was sure of it. But there was one thing about it: He had helped save his friend and if he had got hurt himself he would not have said a word. Every once in a while he let go of his gun with one hand and placed his arm around Caleb's neck as if he never meant to let him go again.

"Say, Caleb, you don't seem to have much to do but just to stay here and keep Enoch company," said Wheaton, who had been appointed commander of the sloop. "I wish you would take a small rope with you and go up and see if there is a block in that topmast. I am going to hoist this flag there, and then our friends on shore can see how we come out."

"Where's the rope?" said Caleb.

The rope was passed to him and Caleb made it fast to one of his arms. Then he settled his hat firmly on his head, went to the ratlines and in a few moments more was at the cross-trees. From this upward he had no ropes to assist him in climbing – nothing but twelve feet of a slippery topmast to which he had to cling in much the same manner that a boy would in climbing a tree. But this was no bar to Caleb; he had been sent on such expeditions before.

"On deck, there!" he shouted, when he had got up and placed his hand on the mast-head. "There is a block here but no rope."

"All right," shouted Wheaton in return. "Reeve that rope through that you have got with you and bring it down here."

To untie the rope from his arm, pass it through the block, twist it securely about his hand and go down to the deck with it was easily done. Then Wheaton began to fasten the flag to it, and presently it began to go aloft.

"I wish there was a union on it so that we could hoist it union down," said Wheaton. "But it is nothing but a union jack. Whichever way you hoist it, it is right side up."

"Some of the people have glasses ashore and they can soon see the flag, and they will notice that it is not on board the schooner but on board the sloop," said Enoch. "That will show them that the vessels have changed hands since we have been inside."

"But I cannot get over the sorrow that will be occasioned among some of the people when they come to hear how many men it took to make that change," said Wheaton, who acted very different from what he did when they went out. "I knew the Britishers would fight, but somehow I did not think they would fight so hard."

"I knew they would," said Caleb. "If you had been on board that schooner you would have fought till you dropped before you would have given up."

A loud cheer coming from the schooner's company interrupted their conversation, and the three turned to see what was the occasion of it. They were just entering the harbor. Captain O'Brien had taken his stand upon the windward rail so that he could have a fair view of the shore, and was waving his hat to the people on the wharf. The boys had no idea that there was so great a number of folks in Machias as they saw at that moment. They stood there, eager to find out which side had whipped, but they dared not make a demonstration for fear that they might be cheering the wrong persons. Even the schooner's flag at the mast-head of the sloop did not fully remove their suspicions. They had heard the firing, the sloop was badly cut up by the shells that had been rained upon her, and they thought they would let the vessels come a little nearer before they said anything.

"You need not tell me anything about it," said James Howard, who had come down there to hear all about the schooner's victory. "That sloop had no cannon, and how could she be supposed to go into a fight with an armed vessel? It is a great wonder to me that she did not sink the sloop when she was in pursuit of her."

"She may have run away from the sloop," said Emerson Miller. "The schooner did not want to fight, for she knows that war hasn't been declared yet. You let Captain Moore alone for keeping out of trouble."

"Say!" whispered James, as with a pale face he passed his glass over to his companion. "Just look at that man standing up there on the windward rail. If that was Captain Moore he would have his uniform on, would he not?"

Emerson took the glass, and as he looked the expectant expression went out of his face and it became as pale as death itself. The man standing up there was Captain O'Brien, and as he watched him he took off his hat and waved it over his head.

"James, we are whipped!" he whispered. "That man is not Captain Moore."

"That is just what I was afraid of. Let us go home."

Emerson did not need any urging, but when James left the wharf he kept him close company. They had made but a few steps when a cheer came from the schooner, and James, glancing toward the boat, saw that that man was still standing there and swinging his hat violently around his head. Not satisfied with this, a cheer arose from the sloop, and there was a man standing on her windward rail who, at that distance, looked exactly like Wheaton.

"We are whipped," repeated Emerson. "Now who in the world can account for that?" James did not say anything, for he was so nearly overwhelmed that he could not get his wits together. He hardly knew when he opened the gate and ascended the stairs to the porch.

Meanwhile the little vessels came gaily on. The people now were satisfied while heretofore they had been lost in doubt, and the cheers that went up were long and loud. The vessels were handled by sailormen, – Zeke took command of the sloop when she approached the wharf – and they rounded to and came up with a force that would not have broken an egg-shell. Parties on shore caught the lines for them, and shortly the gang-planks were pushed out so that the people could come on board. And such a rush as there was! Caleb and Enoch wanted to get ashore to see their mothers, but for a time there was no chance for them. Zeke came up in the meantime, smiling and good-natured as usual, and the boys were about to tell him to go ahead and they would follow in his wake, when they saw him reach out his arm and stop a man who was just coming aboard. It was the storekeeper who had acted so mean about giving Enoch his powder a few nights ago.