l the shot, and the next instant a heavy fire opened on us from
the shore; but nothing stopped our progress. On we dashed, and were
quickly alongside the enemy. The whole side bristled with
boarding-pikes, and as we attempted to climb up, muskets and pistols
were discharged in our faces, and tomahawks and sabres came slashing
down on our heads. Our men cheered and grasped hold of the ship's
sides, but again and again were thrust back, and then the Frenchmen
leaped into our boats, making a dashing effort to drive us out of them.
They had better have remained on their own deck, for very few got back.
Some did though, and formed shields to our men, who climbed up after
them. Meantime, our boat had boarded, as directed, on the starboard
bow, but finding it hopeless to get up there, Mr Johnson dropped
astern, and perceiving only one boat on the quarter, and space for us to
shove in, we hooked on, and the next instant were scrambling up the
side. I kept close to the boatswain. I thought that we were about to
gain the deck, when the enemy made a rush towards us, and over we went,
and I was left clinging to the side, with a dozen sabres flashing above
my head. As to letting go, I never thought of that. I kept Mr
Johnson's pistol in my right hand, and was about to fire, when down came
a sword, which would have clove my head in two, had not a lieutenant of
marines in the next boat interposed his own weapon, and saved me. But
the act was one of self-devotion, for the Frenchman brought his sabre
down on my preserver's arm, while another thrust a pike through his
body, and hurled him back, mortally wounded, to the bottom of the boat.
I should, after all, have shared the same fate, had not Mr Johnson at
that instant recovered himself, and with a shout, loud enough to make
our enemies quake, up he sprang, and, with one whirl of his cutlass,
drove the Frenchmen from the side. Over the bulwarks he leaped; I and
most of the men from the two boats followed. But though we had gained
the deck, there seemed but little chance of our forcing our way forward.

Our men, in the first desperate struggle alongside, had lost their
firearms, and for a few seconds the tall figure of the boatswain, as he
stood up facing the enemy, offered a mark to a score of muskets aimed at
him. The Frenchmen, expecting to see him fall, came on boldly. I
grasped his pistol, hoping to avenge him.

"The forecastle is our station, lads," he shouted, and his