fontawesome webfont
fontawesome webfont
āļŠāļĄāļąāļāļĢ āļĢāļąāļ āđāļāļĢāļāļīāļ āļāļĢāļĩ 150 It had been a battle on a small scale, but the 217 victory had been won, and the cutter was towing her prize in the direction of the gunboat. The lieutenant's first care was to attend to Hilton, the stroke oarsman who had been wounded in the affair. He placed him in a comfortable position on the bottom of the boat, and then examined into his condition. A bullet had struck him in the right side, and the blood was flowing freely from the wound. Mr. Pennant did the best he could for his relief, and the man said he was comfortable. "Now burn your roman candle, and let us get 337 off as soon as possible," said Mr. Pennant. "Bowman, help this man to a seat in the stern sheets;" and he assisted Uncle Job to get in himself. "I am the commander of this steamer, and I have been assaulted in my berth!" replied the sufferer, warming up a little. "One bell, sir," repeated the petty officer at the wheel.