This was Neb, who had thus coolly thrust himself before me,
in order to meet the danger first. I felt vexed, even while touched
with the fellow's attachment and self-devotion, but had no time to
betray either feeling before the crews of the proas gave a yell, and
discharged some fifty or sixty matchlocks at us. The air was full of
bullets, but they all went over our heads. Not a soul on board the
John was hurt. On our side, we gave the gentlemen the four sixes, two
at the nearest and two at the sternmost proa, which was still near a
cable's length distant. As often happens, the one seemingly farthest
from danger, fared the worst. Our grape and canister had room to
scatter, and I can at this distant day still hear the shrieks that
arose from that craft! They were like the yells of fiends in anguish.
The effect on that proa was instantaneous; instead of keeping on after
her consort, she wore short round on her heel, and stood away in our
wake, on the other tack, apparently to get out of the range of our
fire.
I doubt if we touched a man in the nearest proa. At any rate, no noise
proceeded from her, and she came up under our bows fast. As every gun
was discharged, and there was not time to load them, all now depended
on repelling the boarders. Part of our people mustered in the waist,
where it was expected the proa would fall alongside, and part on the
forecastle.
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