of Africa and the
Canary Isles. She met with but little success in this region,
capturing only three brigs,--the cargo of one of which consisted of
wine and fruit; and the second, of palm-oil and ivory. Abandoning the
African coast, the corvette turned westward along the equator, and
made for the West Indies. A large Indiaman fell in her way, and was
brought to; but, before the Americans could take possession of their
prize, a British fleet of twenty-five sail, with two men-of-war, hove
in sight, and the "Adams" was forced to seek safety in flight. She put
into Savannah for provisions and water, but, hearing that the enemy
was in force near by, worked out to sea, and made sail for another
cruise. Capt. Morris took up a position on the limits of the Gulf
Stream, near the Florida coast, in the expectation of cutting out an
Indiaman from some passing convoy. The expected fleet soon came, but
was under the protection of a seventy-four, two frigates, and three
brigs,--a force sufficient to keep at bay the most audacious of
corvettes. Morris hung about the convoy for two days, but saw no
chance of eluding the watchful guards. He then crossed the Atlantic to
the coast of Ireland. Here the "Adams" narrowly escaped capture; for
she was sighted by a frigate, which gave chase, and would have
overhauled her, had not the Americans thrown overboard some small
cannon, and cut away their anchors. Thus lightened, the corvette sped
away, and soon left her pursuers behind.

Continued ill-fortune now reduced the spirits of the sailors of the
"Adams" to very low ebb. They were forced to struggle unceasingly
against the fierce gales which in winter sweep the Atlantic. Their
stock of food and water was giving out; and, to add to their distress,
scurvy, the sailors' worst enemy, began to show itself in the ship.
They had boldly run into the very waters in which the "Argus" had won
so rich a reward, yet not a sail gladdened the eyes of the lookout on
the "Adams." It was then with great disappointment that the jackies
saw the prow of the corvette turned homeward, after a cruise that
would bring them neither honor nor prize-money. The passage homeward
was quickly made, and on the 16th of August the vessel was in
soundings off the coast of Maine. Night fell, with a dense fog
concealing all landmarks from view. Through the darkness the corvette
sped on at a pace of eleven miles an hour, until, just as day was
breaking, the cry of "Breakers ahead!"