Three weeks now passed, and the Providence steered to the northern seas. One day, off Cape Sable, in Nova Scotia, the weather being brilliantly clear, Bill Green and others of the men asked permission to catch for their mess some of the fish that abounded. As they had been on salt provisions for a long time, Paul Jones readily gave the desired permission, and the ship was hove to. A sharp lookout was kept, however, but nothing occurred to disturb the men in their amusement, until toward afternoon, when a sail was made out to windward of them. Instantly the fishing came to a stop, and the Providence, setting some of her light sails, waited for the stranger on an easy bowline.
As the ship approached, Paul Jones plainly saw that she was no such sailer as the Solebay, and thought he could amuse himself with her.
“That vessel, I take it,” he remarked to his first lieutenant, “is the Milford frigate. I have expected to fall in with her, and we can outfoot her, that is clear.”
The Milford, however, began to chase. When she got within cannon shot Paul Jones doubled on her quarter; when, seeing he had the advantage of her in speed, he began to lead her a wild-goose chase. For eight hours the pursuit continued, the Providence keeping just out of range of the cannonade which the Milford kept up unceasingly, wasting in it enormous quantities of powder and shot. Paul Jones was much too astute to throw away any of his ammunition in a perfectly useless cannonade, but as he said, “I can not be so rude as to receive a salute without returning it.” Turning to his marine officer, he said:
“Direct one of your men to load his musket, and as often as the Milford salutes our flag with her great guns, we will reply with a musket shot at least.”
The officer, smiling, went after his man, and stationed him on the quarter-deck. The next time the slow-sailing frigate thundered out a tremendous volley, the marine, with his musket at his shoulder, stood ready for the word. The officer called out, “Fire!” and the marine banged away at the frigate amid the uproarious laughter and cheering of the American sailors. This was kept up for an hour or two, when, a good breeze springing up, the Providence set all her canvas and ran off, leaving the Milford completely in the lurch.
They had another brush with the Milford before the cruise was up. Captain Jones had captured a fine ship, the Mellish, loaded with clothing, which was badly needed by the army of Washington. While convoying her, and with his ship filled with prisoners taken from other prizes, he ran across the Milford. The frigate immediately gave chase. As it was night, Captain Jones set lights at his topmast, and everywhere a light could be put, while the Mellish, with her valuable cargo, carried no lights at all, and slipped off in the darkness. When day broke, Captain Jones found that the Mellish was not in sight, while the Milford was crowding on sail to overhaul him. But the little Providence again showed a clean pair of heels, and some days afterward the Mellish was brought in, to the great rejoicing of the patriotic army.
CHAPTER V.
The repute of Paul Jones was now great, and the American Congress intended sending him abroad to take command of a splendid frigate, then building in Holland. But owing to the representations of the British Government to Holland, and also to France, which had not then openly joined the American cause, the frigate was handed over to the French Government instead of to the American commissioners at Paris. These commissioners were Benjamin Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee. The next best thing to be done for Captain Jones was to give him command of the Ranger, sloop of war. She was then fitting out at Portsmouth, New Hampshire.
The Congress had adopted, on the 14th of July, 1777, the present national ensign of the stars and stripes, and on the same day Paul Jones received his orders to command the Ranger. He at once started for Portsmouth, carrying with him one of the new flags, and as he had before hoisted for the first time the original flag of the colonies, so he had the honor of raising the new ensign upon the Ranger the first time the Stars and Stripes ever floated over an American man-of-war.