Thursday, September 18th.—­* * * Gave chase to a barque, which, discovering our purpose, made all sail and tried to escape.  Came up with her at 2 P.M., after a chase of about three hours.  Hoisted the English ensign, to which she refused to respond.  Fired the starboard bow gun, and ran up our own flag, when she shortened sail and hove-to.  Sent a prize crew on board, she showing the United States ensign.  Brought the master on board.  She proved to be the whaling barque Elisha Dunbar, of New Bedford, twenty-four days out.  As it was blowing fresh and threatening a gale of wind, we got all the prisoners on board in the course of about a couple of hours, and set fire to the barque.  Reefed topsails, set the fore trysail with the bonnet off, and stood on a wind on the starboard tack to the S. and E.

CHAPTER XVI.

Successive gales—­Uncomfortable quarters—­Weather moderates—­Blowing again—­The Emily Farnum and the Brilliant—­Neutral cargo—­Ransomed—­In flames—­The Wave Crest—­The Dunkirk—­Religious smuggling—­A deserter caught—­A court martial—­The Tonawanda—­Precautions—­The Manchester burnt—­Hope—­Parting company—­The Lamplighter—­A hurricane—­Great danger—­A cyclone—­Safely passed.

After this burst of good fortune in the way of prizes, during which the Alabama had destroyed upwards of 230,000 dollars’ worth of United States property—­or an amount very nearly equal to her own entire cost—­in eleven days, a lull was experienced.  A succession of gales from various points of the compass now prevailed with more or less violence for seven or eight days, during a great portion of which the Alabama was lying to, in a heavy sea under close-reefed maintopsail and reefed trysails.

These were hard times for the prisoners; huddled together on deck, with no shelter but an extemporized tarpaulin tent between them and the pelting of the pitiless storm, which drenched the decks alternately with salt water and fresh, as the heavy rain-squalls came down, or the sea, glittering with phosphoric light, came dashing over the weather bulwarks.  There was, however, no alternative.  The berth-deck was already fully occupied by the Alabama’s own crew, and the unlucky prisoners were compelled to make the best of their uncomfortable position, and console themselves with the hope that some vessel with a neutral cargo might fall on the same ill-fortune with themselves, and afford them a chance of being paroled and sent ashore.

As the sun crossed the line the weather moderated, and by the 25th of September all was again calm and fair, and the crew busy caulking the decks, which had leaked terribly during the gales.  They were followed by a succession of calms and light baffling winds, the delay occasioned by which was turned to advantage in practising the crew at the battery, and with small arms.

With the commencement of another month the rough weather returned.  The 2nd October was a real ugly-looking day, with dense black clouds and a Newfoundland north-easter blowing freshly.  No observation was to be had, the thick clouds altogether shutting out the sun, and the ship being in the current of the Gulf Stream, the most she could do was to guess at her position within some thirty or forty miles.