I had become quite tired of doing nothing but fishing, so I asked the captain if I could take the "dingey," the smallest boat on a man-of-war, and with two men go into the Inlet on an exploring expedition. He was desirous to have me go and find out if any vessels were in there, and, selecting two volunteers from the crew, we were ready to leave the brig about daylight. The boat was landed close to the southern point at the entrance to the Inlet. I walked cautiously around the nearest house without finding any footprints in the soft, white sand. That convinced me that no one was in the house. Getting into the boat, I had the men row slowly into the Inlet, the high, dry, soft marsh grass concealing us from view of any one who might be in that locality. At the southern end of the Inlet we saw a schooner, which probably had run the blockade, and, as it was not prudent just then, we proceeded no farther in that direction; the northern branch was also explored, but nothing was to be found there. We had been absent from the brig nearly four hours; the captain had become uneasy on our account and had taken the first cutter with an armed crew to look for us. We met him at the entrance to the Inlet. When told of what we had seen, he concluded to go ashore himself on the northern point. There we managed to shoot a couple of razor-back hogs that had been feeding on the beach. We raised such a rumpus that the rebel cavalry were making preparations to give us a warm reception. Their camp was in the woods about a mile from the beach. We could see them saddling their horses and acting in an excited manner. We found out afterward that the rebels had only sixteen men in camp at that time. Having had all the fun and exercise we wanted on shore, and out of respect to the rebels, we got into the boats and returned to the brig.

A few nights afterward, we discovered a boat nearing the vessel. Hailing it, we were informed that some refugees wished to come on board. Consent being given, they came alongside, and, after asking a few questions, we allowed them to come on board. There were eight men in the party, all desirous of joining the Federal army. Their boat being old and leaky, we destroyed it. They gave us what information they could about the rebels. Two regiments of Georgia cavalry were guarding the coast, being divided into squads of sixteen to twenty men each, each squad a couple of miles distant from the other. The schooner had run the blockade some time previous, having brought in a general cargo of merchandise. As we were anxious to know all about the schooner, it was decided that Ensign Arrants and myself should take the first cutter, with the crew well armed, and land at daybreak on the beach. By walking across the land which separated the end of the Inlet from the beach, we would be safer than rowing the boat into the narrow Inlet. We landed without being seen by the rebels, and, getting on the schooner, we soon ascertained that preparations were being made to run the blockade with a cargo of turpentine. If we had only burned the old schooner there and then, it would have been a wise act on our part. As my instructions were not to destroy it, if there was any probability of its preparing for leaving the Inlet, I reluctantly ordered the men back to the boat and returned to the brig. A house was near the schooner in which was stored a large quantity of the turpentine, and some of the cavalry slept there, as we were informed by some of the refugees. By setting fire to everything we could have done considerable damage, besides capturing some prisoners. Captain Gregory was in favour of letting the schooner run out and then taking her as a prize, for turpentine was very valuable at that time and prize-money would make quite an addition to our pay.

About every week Arrants and myself would take a boat with six men and land on the southern point at the deserted house. By climbing I would get on the roof, and by the aid of powerful marine glasses I could see what progress was being made with loading on the schooner. Our last reconnoitring expedition nearly resulted in serious disaster. This time we had landed on the north point first. Arrants and I each had a rifle, but the six men forming the boat's crew were unarmed. While walking between the sand dunes, we espied a razor-back sow with two young pigs. I shot at the sow as she was running away. The bullet ploughed a deep gash in her back, which only increased her speed. We did not get her, but did capture the two little pigs alive. We were laughing and the porkers squealing, when I happened to look around and discovered a couple of mounted Confederates behind one of the sand dunes. They probably thought the boat's crew was armed, and for that reason did not attack it. However, we lost no time in getting into the boat with our pigs. The sand dunes are pyramids of sand from fifteen to twenty feet in height, and are caused by the strong winds drifting the dry, white sand on the beach. If those two men had had spunk enough, by keeping behind the dunes they could have made it very unpleasant for us in the boat, as the Inlet was not over fifty yards in width. We then landed on the southern point a distance from the house and, telling the crew to row slowly up the beach, pursued our investigations. We had reason to believe some one had been watching us, as there were fresh footprints in the sand leading from the deserted building to the one near the schooner, about half a mile distant.

When we got to the house I told Arrants that I would get on the house and take a look at the blockade-runner. The building stood on piles about six feet in height and, as the steps leading to the house were gone, it was necessary for me to do some climbing. I turned around to give my rifle to Arrants, and just then caught sight of about twenty cavalrymen coming from the other house towards us, and they seemed to be in a big hurry about it, too. We Yankees did not have any particular business to detain us there, so we made a hasty retreat for the boat. The latter was about fifty feet from the shore. I told the men to pull in quick. Arrants and myself ran into the water about knee deep. We caught the boat and stopped it from coming any farther. My companion and I then got into the craft in a very undignified style for officers. If the enemy had come right up to us they could have captured us without firing a shot, as we should have been perfectly helpless. Instead of doing so, they dismounted at the edge of the sand dunes and fired quite an assortment of lead at us from rifles, double-barrelled shotguns, and old-fashioned muskets carrying large bullets with three buckshot additional. They made us fellows feel nervous with their careless shooting. While the Southerners were shooting, we had to turn the boat completely around and head out to sea. The man with the bow oar tried to push the bow around by putting the blade of the oar on the hard sandy bottom and shoving it, and was so energetic that the oar snapped in two. At last we got around, and for a few minutes some good sprinting was done.

The coxswain in the stern then had the best chance of being struck by the bullets, and doubled himself in a way that would have aroused the envy of a contortionist. The men at the oars laid as low as possible for them to row. I was shoved out at full length, shoving at the stroke oar while the men pulled. Arrants was doing the same thing with the second oar. My left cheek was badly stung in different places—I supposed at first by buckshot—but a rifle ball had struck the handle of the oar on which I was shoving, and, my head being close to it, the splinters from the dry ash wood had struck in my face. That bullet had just barely missed my head. As soon as we got out of the range of the buckshot, Arrants and myself returned the fire with our rifles. The Confederates then quickly took their horses and got behind the sand dunes. The battle was over. One of our men had his right eyelid grazed by a buckshot just enough for a single drop of blood to ooze out. A rifle bullet went through the stern of the boat, passing between the coxswain's legs, thence between the whole boat's crew, until it reached the man in the bow, where it passed his left side and elbow, removing some cuticle from each. That fellow was scared, sure enough, at first, but after we pulled his shirt off to stop the blood and found the skin was only peeled off, he concluded to live a little while longer. It was a miracle that every one of us was not killed or seriously wounded. We were in a compact space and the enemy had nothing in the way of a counter-fire to prevent taking deliberate aim.

We got back to the brig, and handed up our prize pigs for Christmas gifts, then told of our adventure with the rebels. The boat was hoisted up and inspected. It had twenty-two buckshot marks, and was pierced through and through by six bullets. My face was badly spotted by the splinters from the oar. We were all congratulated upon our narrow escape. Captain Gregory vowed vengeance on the Southerners for their conduct, and, that night, plans were arranged for the next day to "carry the war into Africa." Then we went to bed, excepting those on duty.

Next morning at eight o'clock we tried again and sailed as close to the beach as possible and anchored. An officer was stationed aloft with a pair of marine glasses, that he might see over the sand dunes and have a good view of the rebel schooner. For three hours we tried to put a shell into the blockade-runner with our guns, but could not do so on account of the sand dunes interfering with our range. At twelve o'clock Captain Gregory decided to land a boat's crew; and that was his mistake No. 3. We all well knew there would be resistance offered to our landing, under the circumstances, but I received orders to set fire to the schooner, and therefore had nothing to say. Sixteen of the best men were selected and armed with rifles, and to each was also given a navy revolver, or else a boarding-pistol, carrying an ounce bullet. Arrants was ordered to assist me. The paymaster, a new officer from Boston, volunteered his services, for he thought he would have a picnic, and, besides, his admiring friends had presented him with an expensive sword and revolver, and these weapons he intended taking back home with him all covered with rebel gore. We three officers carried a whole arsenal—sword, rifle, and revolver. As we expected to meet not more than twenty Confederates, we felt confident of victory, especially as we were better armed and could load our guns more rapidly, having improved cartridges. The enemy had to tear the paper on theirs with their teeth, while ours could be used without that process, as they were encased in combustible paper.

CHAPTER XX
A PRISONER OF WAR

We took the first cutter for a landing party, and the second cutter was manned with an armed crew of six men to take care of our boat while we were on shore. A small keg, filled with tarred rope yarns and a bottle of turpentine, was given to me with which to set the schooner on fire. I told Captain Gregory to send George Brinsmaid along with us to carry the keg, as he was of no use on the brig, and might be of some use on dry land. Everybody thought it would be a good joke, so Mr. Brinsmaid was ordered into the boat, and promoted to the office of bearer of combustibles. My instructions were plain enough: "To land and set fire to the schooner and house, and do all the damage possible."[D] In case we were attacked, we were to get behind the sand dunes and defend ourselves, while the guns on the brig would shell the rebels.