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PAGE 3

David Farragut: The Boy Midshipman
by [?]

Months passed, and still Captain Porter had not been able to find the American squadron, so he decided to make a trip around Cape Horn, and cruise about on the Pacific, which decision pleased young Farragut, as he was eager for an experience of real sea life. And he certainly had it. The weather was bitterly cold, and for twenty-one days the ship was lashed by terrific gales, by the end of which time the provisions were almost gone, and each man had only a small daily allowance of bread and water, which was not a light experience, with appetites whetted by salt air and hard work. After rounding the cape, Captain Porter sailed north along the west coast of South America and stopped at an island near the coast of Chili, and here all the sailors went ashore with their guns, and killed some wild hogs and horses, and even the horse-flesh they ate with keen relish, after being so long without fresh meat. Then for months they cruised about in the Pacific, and as he had done in the Atlantic cruise, so in the Pacific, Captain Porter captured several English vessels and also warned some American whaling ships of danger. These had been at sea for so long that they had not even heard of the war. Every now and again the Essex stopped at an island where the sailors could kill seals, or when they anchored in a bay, they fished for cod, and at one island where they stayed for quite a while, they found prickly pears to eat, and killed pigeons which the cook on the Essex made into pies, and turtles which they caught were made into soup, and the salt air and the free vigorous life gave them all ravenous appetites, and young Farragut felt the keenest joy of living which he had ever experienced.

On that island where they stayed so long they found a curious post-office–a link connecting whoever should discover it with the outer world of passing men and vessels. It was just a box nailed to a tree, where messages or letters could be left to be picked up by other vessels which happened to be going in the right direction to carry them.

A far cry indeed from that island post-box to the wireless stations of to-day, flashing news from sea to land–from land to sea!

At last in May, 1813, the Essex sailed away from the island, and soon more English vessels were sighted and captured. One of these prizes Captain Porter wished to have taken to Valparaiso, and as through all the long cruise he had kept a watchful eye on young Farragut, he now determined to put the boy’s ability to a hard test.

Farragut was then only twelve years old, just think of it,–twelve years old, but the Captain put him in charge of the captured vessel, while its grey-haired old captain was required to navigate it to Valparaiso under Farragut’s command.

The charge of such a vessel on such a trip was no light matter for a boy to undertake, and Farragut’s joy and pride fairly oozed from every inch of his alert figure, beamed from every feature of his face. The old captain of the ship, in none too good a humour at having been captured by the Americans, was still more angry at being obliged to take orders from a mere child, and tried to ignore him, but as Farragut paid no heed to his snubs, he tried a different method. When Farragut gave orders that “the maintop-sail be filled away,” the captain answered that he would shoot any man who dared to touch a rope without his orders, and then went below to get his pistols. There wasn’t a moment to lose. Instantly Farragut called one of his men, and told him what had happened and what he wanted done, and his frank manner and words accomplished what no amount of commands would have done.