so great was the activity of
the crew of the "Alert" that they repaired the damage done aloft, and
in four hours overtook the "American," and opened fire upon her The
battle now became one-sided; for the "Lexington," being short of
powder, could make little resistance to the brisk attack of her
persevering adversary. In less than an hour she was forced to strike
her flag.

The fate of the "Reprisal" was even harder than that of her consort.
While crossing the Atlantic on her way back to the coast of America,
she was overtaken by a furious gale. With furled sails and battened
hatches, the little craft made a desperate fight for life. But the
fierce wind carried away her masts and spars, and the tossing waves
opened her seams, so that it became apparent to all on board that the
fate of the gallant craft, that had so nobly defended the cause of
American liberty, was sealed. As the water rose higher and higher in
the hold, the officers saw that it was no longer a question of the
possibility of saving the ship, but that their lives and those of the
crew were in the greatest danger. Boats were lowered; but the angry
white-capped waves tossed them madly aloft, and, turning them over and
over, sent the poor fellows that manned them to their long account.
All hands then set to work at the construction of a huge raft; and
just as the ship's stern settled, it was pushed off, and all that
could reach it clambered on. A few poor fellows clung to the sinking
ship; and their comrades on the raft saw them crowd on the forecastle,
and heard their despairing cries as the good ship threw her prow high
in the air, and sunk stern foremost to the placid depths of the stormy
ocean. But those on the raft were not destined to escape the fate of
their comrades. The haggard sufferers were doomed to see the frail
structure on which their lives depended go slowly to pieces before the
mighty power of the remorseless sea. Bit by bit their foothold
vanished from beneath them. One by one they were swept off into the
seething cauldron of the storm. At last but one man remained, the cook
of the ill-fated vessel, who floated about for three days on a piece
of wreckage, until, half-starved and nearly crazed, he was picked up
by a passing vessel, and told the tale of the wreck. So ended the
career of the patriotic and gallant Capt. Wickes and his crew, and
such is the fate that every stout fellow braves when he dons his blue
jacket and goes to serve his c