So, I bid Sylvanus pile a great heap of useless, green, heavy, barky
slabs on top o' the good lumber; then we took the occasion of a little
wind, and stood her out to anchor a little ways from the dock. Sure
enough, when night come, the Mushrats came a hollerin' aand yellin'.
Unfortnitly I'd left the salutin' blunderbuss here at home, and hadn't
but one pike-pole aboard. 'How many boat loads of 'em is there,
Sylvanus?' I says. 'Two,' says he. 'All right,' says I, 'that's one
apiece. Take off your coat, and roll up your shirt sleeves, Sylvanus,'
says I, 'for you're a goin' to have heavy work slab heavin'!' On they
come to board us, one on each side. 'Fire out them or'nary useless
slabs, Sylvanus,' says I. 'But there's a boat with a lot of men in it,'
says he, a-chucklin' like an ijut. Hope I haven't given the pass word
away, John? Well, I said: 'Fire out the slabs, and let the men get out
o' the way.' And he began firing, and I kept my side a-goin', and the
slabs fell flat and heavy and fast, knockin' six at a shot, till they
cussed and swore, and hollered and yelled murder, and that was the last
we two saw of the Mushrats and the paintin' of the _Susan Thomas_.
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