ship was now right in the spot where
it was likely she might meet with the Dutch privateers.

It was Stevenson's watch, and as he walked the poop he stopped suddenly,
for the look-out reported a sail to the W.S.W. Foster came on deck at
once and went aloft In a quarter of an hour it was evident that the
stranger bore towards them. The wind was south-east, and very little of
it.

"What are you going to do?" asked the mate. "I fancy this is one of the
Dutchmen who are on the look-out for us."

"So do I," answered Foster, "I'll tell you what I am going to do: brace
sharp up on the larboard tack and run down to her. I am not going to run
away from _one_ infernal Dutchman, and I can only see one of 'em."

"You're captain of the ship, and you can do as you please; but I am
hanged if I think you'll pull it off this time. Half the crew are sick,
and this fellow looks as if he meant fighting."

"All hands on deck; starboard forebrace!" was all the answer Foster
made. Then he went to the signal locker, and getting out the American
ensign, with his own hands ran it up to the peak, hoping by this means
to get close enough to the other ship to prevent _her_ from running away
from a fight, if the captain should turn out not one of the fighting
sort.

As soon as the sails were trimmed the skipper walked to the break of the
poop, and, with the air of a captain of a seventy-four, gave the order,
"Clear ship for action!"

Then the mate ventured to remark that half of the guns were down below
on the 'tween decks, where they had been put out of the way for the
generally peaceful occupation of whaling.

"Well, get 'm up. What the devil do you think I mean by clearing for
action?"

Accordingly, the six-pounders were hoisted upon deck and quickly
mounted, what little powder and shot the _Policy_ carried was brought
into a handy place, and the mate, with something of a smile, reported,
"Ship cleared for action, sir."

"Very good, Mr. Stevenson. Now, my lads, I reckon this ship is one of
the Dutch fleet sent to clear us whalers out of these seas. Well, as he
seems to be alone, I think we have a fair chance of turning the tables
upon him. Anyhow, I am going to try. I know some of you are pretty sick,
but I am sure that a crew of English sailors, even when they are sick,
can lick twice their number of muddle-headed Dutchmen any day."

In those days, British ships were manned by British seaman, and Captain
Foster could talk like this