s moderate, and we stood to the
southward; several sail were in sight, but at a distance. We were
anxious to speak one even at some risk, for our supplies were down to a
pint of rum in water each day under a tropical sun, with two
water-soaked biscuits. On the afternoon of the second day a brig drifted
slowly down toward us; we made signals that we wished to speak her, and,
getting out our sweeps, pulled for her. As we neared her, the captain
hailed and ordered us to keep off. I replied that we were shipwrecked
men, and only wanted some provisions. As we rounded to under his stern,
we could see that he had all his crew of seven or eight men at quarters.
He stood on the taff-rail with a revolver in hand, his two mates with
muskets, the cook with a huge tormentor, and the crew with handspikes.

"I tell you again, keep off, or I'll let fly."

"Captain, we won't go on board if you will give us some provisions; we
are starving."

"Keep off, I tell you. Boys, make ready."

One of the mates drew a bead on me; our eyes met in a line over the
sights on the barrel. I held up my right hand.

"Will you fire on an unarmed man? Captain, you are no sailor, or you
would not refuse to help shipwrecked men."

"How do I know who you are? And I've got no grub to spare."

"Here is a passenger who is able to pay you," said I, pointing to the
general.

"Yes; I will pay for anything you let us have."

The captain now held a consultation with his officers, and then said:
"I'll give you some water and bread. I've got nothing else. But you must
not come alongside."

A small keg, or breaker, was thrown overboard and picked up, with a bag
of fifteen or twenty pounds of hardtack. This was the reception given us
by the brig _Neptune_ of Bangor. But when the time and place are
considered, we cannot wonder at the captain's precautions, for a more
piratical-looking party than we never sailed the Spanish main. General
Breckinridge, bronzed the color of mahogany, unshaven, with long
mustache, wearing a blue flannel shirt open at the neck, exposing his
broad chest, with an old slouch hat, was a typical bucaneer. Thankful
for what we had received, we parted company. Doubtless the captain
reported on his arrival home a blood-curdling story of his encounter
with pirates off the coast of Cuba.

"Marse John, I thought the war was done. Why didn't you tell dem folks
who you was?" queried Tom. The general told Tom they were Yankees, and
would not be