To manœuvre the fleet into position was a slow task, and the hour of noon came while we were yet beyond range of the enemy, whose vessels were moving here and there to prevent us from gaining any advantage.
Our commodore, mindful of the wants of others, ordered that food be served, and I saw men munching bread, cheese, or meat, grumbling meanwhile because it was not exactly to their liking, who an hour later had departed from this earth for evermore.
As for me, I would as soon have eaten with the coffin of my dearest friend for a table, as to have eaten then; but Alec was stouter hearted, and took his rations with a relish which I envied.
“It’s not well to fight on an empty stomach, lad!” old Silas cried, when he saw me turn away from the food, and I foolishly replied:—
“It can make little difference to him who falls whether his appetite be satisfied or not.”
“True for you, lad; but some of us will be alive when this battle is ended by the haulin’ down of the British flags, and they’ll need be ready to clear the decks of those who are no longer to be counted on the ship’s list.”
That the others cheered these words only served to show me how heartless men may become after having learned the “art” of warfare, and I turned away with a sensation such as cannot well be described.
Now the line of battle was formed. The British flag-ship, supported by the schooner Chippewa, was in the lead. After her came the brig Hunter; then the Queen Charlotte, commanded by Captain Finnis; flanked by the schooners Lady Prevost and Little Belt.
The Lawrence led our line, with the Scorpion and the Ariel on her left, and the Caledonia on the right. The orders were that these three craft should encounter the Detroit, Hunter, and Chippewa.
Next came the Niagara, with instructions to fight the Queen Charlotte, while the Somers, Porcupine, Tigress, and the Trippe were to engage with the Lady Prevost and the Little Belt.