The Portland daily press., 1893-09-18
Commodore Stewards Dagger.

One sunny afternoon in spring, while
talking with Stewart, picked up from
his table peculiar knife. The handle
was ivory, yellow with age. The blade
was perhaps eight or ten inches long,
curved like scimitar. 1t was in fact,
a dagger, there being no edge on. it, but
the point was of needle-like sharpness.
He noticed my curiosity, and said:
That knife was a present from
Decatur, and it has an interesting his
tory. Our war with Tripoli broke out in
1901. Those treacherous dogs had way
of surrendering, and then when boat
was sent to take possession, they would
open on it. Lieuten ant James Decatur,
a brother of Stephen, was shot dead by
the captain of a vessel that had run up
the white flag, and, waiting until young
Decatur stepped upon his deck, killed
him.
Stephen Decatur learned of this
crime, and made his way to the boat on
which his brother had been killed. He
led his men over the rail, and attacked
the crew with desperate valor. He had
learned that it was the captain who had
fired the fatal shot, and, singing him
out, Decatur went at him like tiger.
Such fight could end only with the
death of one of the com batants.
30" There was no mistake about the
identity of the captain. He was fully
six and half feet tall, and wore a
gorgeous uniform. Seeing the American
making for him, the miscreant eagerly
rushed forward, for he must have been
of orr cl, fhp and q
officer, who was not large man by any
means.
The Moor lunged at Decatur with a
pike, but it was parted with so much
violence that the -assailant was rartly
turned round on his feet. He Instantly
whirled back like cat Just as Decatur
struck with his sword. The blow was
caught on the Tripolitan's pike and the
sword broke in two; but with the stump,
Decatur checked second blow, though
the point passed through his coat and
pierced his breast Grasping the pike
with both hands, Decatur wrenched it
from the other, flung it aside, and leaped
at him, just as had seen him do scores
of times in Philadelphia, when fighting
with a boy larger than himself.
II never saw a better wrestler than
Decatur but to his astonishment, he
found the Moor was his superior When
they went down on the deck, Decatur
was fiat on his back, with the Moor on
top. That.dagger which you now have in
your hand was in the sash around the
fellows waist. He reached down to
draw it, SO as to STAB Decatur; but the
latter flung his legs over the Moor's back,
and with the help of his arms held him
so tightly against his breast that the
Moor could not shove his hands between
their bodies to draw the weapon. One of
Decatur's pistols was near his side, so
that while he held his enemy rigid with
his left arm, he slipped his right down
and drew the weapon. He cooked it by
using the body of the Moor to help him,
reached over the back of the savage, and,
pointing the pistol downward, pulled the
trigger.
ut was just like Decatur, for a more
reckless thing cannot be imagined He
might have fred sidewise into his enemy's
body, but discharged the bullet directly
toward his own breast. The chances
were that it would pass through both,
but, luckily, it struck a bone, and, with
gasp and groan, the Tripolitan rolled.
off the body on the deck and died with
out another struggle. Decatur took the
knife from his sash and presented it to
me. BLUE and Gray for September.