Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1899-11-01
BY cHAUNCY I

to me. AS l gazed at the gorgeous bunting
my heart rose in my throat, the tears welled
from my eyes, the frost which had long
bound me suddenly thawed, and, putting all
my remaining power to my voice, gave vent
to a wild shout, threw both arms above my
head, and staggered below.
That night, under her own remaining can
vas, the Phantom sailed into the harbor of
Holmes Hole and dropped her spare anchor.
We had been rescued by the American pri-
vateer Jenny, of New London, out Of that
port bound hcme with prisoners and booty
after four months cruise.
With my story told, there had been
enough help offered to equip me for voy-
age to the Indies, but l asked for only pro-
visions, water; fuel, and couple of hands,
determined to gather to myself the glory
which had well-nigh slipped my grasp. We
were freed from the load of water taken
in during the storm, the Jenny standing
by and lending men to the work until the
pumps "sucked," and then, promising not to
loses sight of us until we entered Vineyard
sound, stood for her home port.
Not word did I say about the two sail
ors whom I had captured, and who had
served me well. The doctor had found half
dead from fright, the effects of his debauch,
starvation and seasickness, and l deter
mined to hold him myself still as prisoner
on parole. l had no idea of transferring
Ames or his sister, for | doubted if the
Jenny, crowded as she was, would prove
more comfortable than the Phantom. The
remainder of the trip would be short; at
my own home there would be the best of
nursing, and my surgeon prisoner would
make a fair attendant, if he could be kept
sober, matter | would take in my own
hands.
There were other reasons why would not
consent to be separated from my friends
even had they been willing (which they
were not), the weightiest of which not being
the danger of transshipment, but one /
deemed unnecessary to mention, and which
as yet l would not fully acknowledge to my
self.
Knowing nothing of the march of events,
con6ded to the captain my fears of Gen.
Sulivan's safety, and told him what had
learned of Clnton's intended movement to
the relief of Pigot, hoping he would be able
to transmit warning to the American
general in time to prevent surprise.
Thus suddenly relieved of care, we sailed
away under mainsail, foresail and jb, and
had made the remainder of the voyage with
out incident. 1t was with emotions al
most boyish and uncomfortable that l
marked the mingled reds, yellows and blues
of the great clay foreland of Gay head, doub-
ly brilliant in the light of the westering sun.
By then our consort was we'll to the north
west, but now feared neither the British
nor the devil, for, if closely pursued by the
former, l should have run the Phantom
ashore and taken to the woods, even though
it broke my heart to do it.
But no further necessity for heroic action
presented itself, and we slipped into the
haven of Holmes Hole and dropped the only
anchor we had left, creating futter among
the inhabitants of the hamlet, who we're
nightly alarmed at seeing schooner bear
ing no flag sail up within gunshot of the
shore and round to as though for broad
side. Heretofore they had not been mo-
Tested, but perhaps it was an inward sense
of trouble impending which made them
quake at the mysterious action of the Phan-
tom, for barely fortnight was to elapse
ere Grey, the Hand of Iron," sailed up as
I had done, and under the guns of the fleet
demanded the usual tribute of blood and an
unusual one of forage.
But now, saving few fishermen drawn
up on the beach, there was not a craft in the
harbor. The peace of the evening, the
quiet beauty of the green land, and the feel
ing of safety fell on my spirits like bene-
diction after an impressive sermon, and
breathed as one breathes on waking from the
horrors of nightmare. War and danger had
vanished as had vanished the storm clouds
of the day before, and, indeed, so far as
the events of the past few days had affected
me, they had been but as nightmare or
as had been the storm to the land, leaving
but few marks to tell of its fearful! reality.
In a week had recovered from the ter
rible strain to which I had been subjected,
noticing only that my head had taken on
a few white threads ! had never seen be-
sore, but my nerves, which had been my
mainstay through life, were neither loosened
me- frayed by the desperate tune circum-
stance had thrummed upon them. Z
l had suddenly shot from an era of con-,
Aict to one of peace. thought, nor did I
dream / should be aroused again, unless /
voluntarily took the field. I became a
hero, too, nor was my notoriety cheap one.
From Edgartown to the heights Of Gays
head the fame Of my achievements spread,
even the half-breed Indians, whose ground
lay about the latter point, being unstinted.
in their sober congratulations to the Big
Thorn, as I was called by them. ts
Seafarers and those drawing their sub,
ssistence from the sea are stolid to apparent
indifference g e the fortune, b i good g