thing the _Wasp_ found at sea was a mighty gale of wind, that
blew "great guns" for two days. The waves were so big and fierce that
one of them carried away her bowsprit with two men on it. The next
night, after the wind had gone down a little, lights shone out across
the waves, and when daylight came Captain Jones saw over the heaving
billows six large merchant ships. With them was a watch-dog in the shape
of a fighting brig.

This brig was named the _Frolic_. It had been sent in charge of a fleet
of fourteen merchantmen, but these had been scattered by the gale until
only six were left. The _Frolic_ was a good match for the _Wasp_, and
seemed to want a fight quite as badly, for it sailed for the American
ship as fast as the howling wind would let it. And you may be sure the
_Wasp_ did not fly away.

Captain Jones hoisted his country's flag like a man. He was not afraid
to show his true colors. But the _Frolic_ came up under the Spanish
flag. When they got close together Captain Jones hailed,--

"What ship is that?"

The only answer of the British captain was to pull down the Spanish flag
and run up his own standard, stamped with the red cross of St. George.
And as the one flag went down and the other went up, the _Frolic_ fired
a broadside at the _Wasp_. But just then the British ship rolled over on
the side of a wave, and its balls went whistling upward through the air.
The Yankee gunners were more wide-awake than that. They waited until
their vessel rolled down on the side of a great billow, and then they
fired, their solid shot going low, and tearing into the _Frolic's_
sides.

The fighting went that way all through the battle. The British gunners
did not know their business and fired wild. The Yankees knew what they
were about, and made every shot tell. They had sights on their guns and
took aim; the British had no sights and took no aim. That is why the
Americans were victors in so many fights.

But I think there was not often a sea-fight like this. The battle took
place off Cape Hatteras, which is famous for its storms. The wind
whistled and howled; the waves rose into foaming crests and sank into
dark hollows; the fighting craft rolled and pitched. As they rolled
upward the guns pointed at the clouds. As they rolled downward the
muzzles of the guns often dipped into the foam. Great masses of spray
came flying over the bulwarks, sweeping the decks. The weather and the
sailors both had their blood up, and