The sun had now set, but far into the darkness of the tropical night the running fight continued, Foster always out-manouvring the Dutchman, and the crews of both vessels, when they closed near enough to be heard, cursing and mocking at each other. Owing to the darkness and the extremely bad gunnery on both sides, little blood was spilt, and the damage done was mostly confined to the sails and rigging. Now and then a eighteen-pound shot hulled the Policy, and one went clean through her amidships. Suddenly, for some cause or other, about midnight, a light was shown in the privateer's stern, and Foster's second mate at once sent a lucky shot at it, with the result that the six-pound ball so damaged the Swift's rudder that she became unmanageable. And then, a few minutes later, another shot dismounted one of her guns by striking it on the muzzle, and ere the Dutchman's crew knew what was happening, a final broadside from the whaler brought down her two topsails and did other damage aloft. That practically ended the battle.
So thought Captain Portveldt, who now hailed the Policy in not quite so boastful a voice as when the vessels met earlier in the day.
“Captain Voster, I haf hauled down mein flag. Mein grew will vight no more, and I must surrender.”
A cheer broke from the whaler's crew.
“Very well, Captain Portveldt,” called out Foster; “lower a boat, and come on board with half your crew. But don't try on any boarding tricks, or you will be the worse for it.”
The meeting between the two skippers, notwithstanding the cause, was good-humoured enough, for Portveldt, apart from his boastfulness, was not a bad fellow.
“Veil, Captain Voster,” he said as he stepped on board the Policy's deck, followed by his big boatswain (who was wounded in the face by a splinter) and half his crew, “you haf broved der besd mans; und now I suppose you vill lead me like a liddle dog mit a sdring, und dake me to Sydney und make vun mit der young lady about me.”
“No, no,” answered Foster, “I am not so bad as all that Come below and have a glass of grog.”
At daylight one morning some weeks later two ships appeared in sight off Sydney Heads. Those who were on the look-out were alarmed, for it was seen that both vessels were armed, and it was conjectured that the ships must be part of an enemy's squadron which had determined to make an attack upon the settlement of Port Jackson.