“But that is not deep enough for their heavy vessels,” cried an officer.
“At high water,” said Tom Deering, calmly, “there is water enough to float the largest ship in their fleet, providing they have a man at the wheel who knows the course. I have come through the channel many a time with my uncle, Captain Deering, of the schooner Defence.”
This information set the council in a state of great excitement; Tom was thanked over and over for what he had done.
“You have, without doubt,” said Colonel Moultrie, “saved us from making a fatal mistake.”
Before the sun was three hours high a plan of action had been formulated and was in progress of execution. Captain Deering was summoned in hot haste from his schooner, which lay in the river, and ordered to cover and protect a party detailed to sink a number of stone-laden hulks in the narrow Hog-Island channel. The Defence, some weeks before, had been fitted up with carronades and a long thirty pounder cannon, and she was just the ready, quick-sailing craft for the work.
By early afternoon the hulks were being floated into the channel, the Defence hovering about them like a great bird watching over its young. The work had scarcely begun, however, when the British lookouts discovered it, and the Tamar bore down upon the hulks, firing from her bow guns as she came. The Cherokee was only a little behind her sister craft in promptness of action, and opened with her lighter guns, also. The Defence answered with her carronades, but their range was not great enough, and she did but little damage; the guns from Fort Johnson opened; a few shots were effective; but the firing was discontinued as soon as the British war-ships showed signs of hesitation. Meanwhile the alarm was beat at Charleston, where the troops stood to their arms. But the time was not yet; the Tamar and Cherokee, seeing that they could not frighten the blockading party off, went about and retreated beyond range.
From this time on the local patriots began to proceed vigorously. Ships were impressed and armed like the Defence, and they were badly needed, for the British in the harbor became more and more troublesome. Captain Thornborough, the officer in command of them, began to seize all vessels within his reach, entering or coming out of the port.
Of the newly-gathered fleet of the Americans Captain Deering was placed in charge. Heavy artillery was mounted on Haddrill’s Point and the work of fortification at the same place was hurriedly completed. A new fort was raised on Jones’ Island and another one begun on Sullivan’s Island, some distance below the city; the volunteers were constantly coming in, swelling the ranks of the patriots both ashore and afloat. Among these latter was Tom Deering’s father; the planter armed a small sloop and manned it with a crew of slaves, who gladly offered to follow him against the British.
But Tom, to his father’s surprise, refused to join him.
“Is it possible, Tom,” demanded he, sternly, on the morning upon which he formally took charge of the sloop as an officer of the colony, “that you have suddenly grown faint-hearted?”