The soundings gave
warning of this, and we got round, on what I supposed would be the
Amelia's last leg. But Providence took care of us, when we could not help
ourselves. The wind came out at north-west, as it might be by word of
command; the mist cleared up, and we saw the lights, for the first time,
close aboard us. The brig was taken aback, but we got her round, shortened
sail, and hove her to, under a closed-reefed main-topsail. We now got it
from the north-west, making very bad weather. The gale must have set us a
long way to leeward, as we did not get in for a fortnight. We shipped a
heavy sea, that stove our boat, and almost swept the decks. We were out of
pork and beef, and our fire-wood was nearly gone. The binnacle was also
gone. As good luck would have it, we killed a porpoise, soon after the
wind shifted, and on this we lived, in a great measure, for more than a
week, sometimes cooking it, but oftener eating it raw. At length the wind
shifted, and we got in.
I was no sooner out of this difficulty, than a hasty temper got me into
another. While still in the stream, an Irish boatman called me a "Yankee
son of a-----," and I lent him a clip. The fellow sued me, and, contriving
to catch me before I left the vessel, I was sent to jail, for the first
and only time in my life. This turned out to be a new and very revolting
school for me.
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