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Strang, Herbert

"A Story of the Times of Benbow"

There were cries and
groans enough now, and not merely from the enemy, for while the
foremost of them was attempting to board, others beyond fired at
us, and I knew from the bosun's bellow of rage that he for one had
been hit. We snatched up a second musket each, but before we could
turn to fire them, three of the Frenchmen had gained a footing on
our deck.
Making a rush for these, we shoved them by main force back over the
side, only just in time to meet another group who had scrambled up.
It was no longer possible to fire. We clubbed our muskets and dealt
about us lustily, cheers and yells and groans mingling in a babel
the like of which I had never heard before. I reckoned that there
were at least three Frenchmen to every one of us, and Duguay-Trouin
was with them; I heard his voice shouting encouragement. 'Twas
lucky that their deck was lower than ours, for if we had been level
I doubt not we had soon been overpowered by the weight of numbers.
But they, being below us, and crowded to boot, could not use their
superiority to advantage, and though they did what mortal men might
to get at us, we beat them back time after time.
Joe, beside me, was a host in himself. 'Twas clear fighting and not
coopering was the trade he was born to; he cut and thrust and
jabbed and smote with his musket, and more than once drove a
Frenchman backward by mere shoving with his mighty shoulders,
breathing hard, shouting loving farewells to the men he heaved into
the smack or the sea, some of them, I fear, never to fight again.


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