ne of them, being a trader from
Mozambique, was destroyed; the other, a slaver from Madagascar, the
captain knew not what to do with. He therefore took out eight or ten of
the stoutest male negroes to assist in working his vessel, and then let
the prize go.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

But who is this? What thing of sea
Comes this way sailing,
Like a stately ship
With all her bravery on, and tackle trim?
MILTON.

The privateer was called the _True-blooded Yankee_. She was first bound
to the island of Tristan d'Acunha, where she expected to meet her
consort, belonging to the same owners, and who had preceded her, when
their directions were to cruise between the Cape and Madagascar, for
certain homeward bound extra Indiamen, one or two of which she hoped
would reward all the trouble and expense of the outfit.

We reached the island without any material incident. I had observed,
with concern, that the second mate, whose name was Peleg Oswald, was a
sour, ferocious, quarrelsome man; and that although I was kindly treated
by the captain, whose name was Peters, and by the chief mate, whose name
was Methusalem Solomon, I never could conciliate the good-will of Peleg
Oswald.

Green, the captain, who came with me, was, from the time I saved his
life, an altered man. He had been, as I was informed, a drunken
profligate; but from the moment when I received him into my boat, his
manners and habits seemed as completely changed as if he were a
different being. He never drank more than was sufficient to quench his
thirst--he never swore--he never used any offensive language. He read
the Scriptures constantly, was regular in the morning and evening
devotion, and on every occasion of quarrel or ill-will in the brig,
which was perpetually occurring, Green was the umpire and the
peacemaker. He saved the captain and chief mate a world of trouble; by
this system, violent language became uncommon on board, punishment was
very rare, and very mild. The men were happy, and did their duty with
alacrity; and but for Peleg Oswald, all would have been harmony.

We made the island about the 15th of December, when the weather was such
as the season of the year might induce us to expect, it being then
summer. We hove off to the north or windward side of the island, about
two miles from the shore; we dared not go nearer on that side, for fear
of what are called the "Rollers"--a phenomenon, it would appear, of
terrific magnitude,