ht young men, who afterwards gained fame in fighting their
country's battles. One of these officers was Stephen Decatur, the
hero of this story, who afterwards, as captain of the frigate United
States, {159} whipped the British frigate Macedonian after a fight of
an hour and a half.

One morning late in the fall of 1803, the frigate Philadelphia, one
of the best ships of our little navy, while chasing a piratical
craft, ran upon a sunken reef near the harbor of Tripoli. The good
ship was helpless either to fight or to get away.

The officers and crew worked with all their might. They threw some of
the cannon overboard, they cut away the foremast, they did everything
they could to float the vessel. It was no use; the ship stuck fast.

Of course it did not take long for the Tripolitans to see that the
American war ship was helpless. Their gunboats swarmed round the
ill-fated vessel and opened fire. It was a trying hour for the
gallant Captain Bainbridge and his men. Down must come the colors,
and down they came. The officers and the sailors were taken ashore
and thrown into prison.

After a time, the Tripolitans got the Philadelphia off the reef.
Then, towing her into the harbor of Tripoli, they anchored her close
under the guns of their forts. {160} The vessel was refitted, cannon
were put on board, together with a crew of several hundred sailors,
and the crescent flag was raised. She was now ready to sail out to
attack our shipping.

Just think of the days of grief and shame for Captain Bainbridge and
his men! Think of them as they looked day after day out of the narrow
windows of the pasha's castle, and saw this vessel, one of the
handsomest in the world, flying the colors of the enemy! These brave
Americans had need of all their grit; but they kept up their courage
and bided their time.

Commodore Preble now sailed to Sicily, and cast anchor in the harbor
of Syracuse.

Don't you suppose the recapture of the Philadelphia was talked of
every day?

Of course it was. Everybody in the fleet, from the commodore to the
powder monkey, was thinking about it. They must do something, and the
sooner the better.

Even Captain Bainbridge in his prison cell wrote several letters with
lemon juice, which could be read on being held to the fire, and sent
them to Preble. These letters contained plans for sinking the
ill-fated ship.

Every one of Preble's young captains was eager to try it. It might
mean glory, and promoti