By this time the crew of the Venganza, as is often the case with cowards when driven to desperation, had become perfectly frantic, and also mutinous. With furious execrations, they compelled Captain Pinto to make a desperate attempt to board the American ship, and decide the action. For this purpose the helm of the guarda-costa was put hard down, and she immediately ran on board the Albatross, her bowsprit passing over that ship's larboard gangway, and coming in contact with the fore part of her mainmast, to which it was instantly lashed firmly by Mr. Walker, Jones, and two or three of the nearest seamen. In this state she was exposed to a murderous raking fire of grape and cannister shot, from such of the Albatross's guns as could be brought to bear upon her. Notwithstanding this, the Spaniards mustered in considerable force upon and about the heel of the bowsprit and cat-heads, armed with pistols, knives, and cutlasses. The Americans caught up their ten-foot boarding-pikes, and presented an impenetrable hedge of steel points; but, although his crew was fearfully thinned by a well directed discharge of canister-shot and bags of musket-balls from the two midship guns of the Albatross, Captain Pinto, at the head of about fifty men, the sole remnant of the original eighty, persisted in his attempt to board; and five or six of the most desperate actually "effected a lodgement," as militarists call it, in the main shrouds, where they were instantaneously transfixed by the long pikes of the Yankees, and fell shrieking into the water. At this moment the doctor, who had hitherto been engaged in dressing the hurts of the few wounded that thought proper to visit him in his temporary cockpit, hearing the bustle, caught up his rifle, and hastened to the _other_ field of his usefulness. "Here, doctor, doctor!" shouted old Jones as soon as he saw him, "here's a chance for you! here's the Spanish skipper looking as savage as a Yankee meat-axe--Gad! if you don't bear a hand, he'll cut his own throats, for want of some of ours." "Where, where?" said the knight of the pillbox, skipping upon a gun. "There, that notomy-looking thief with a sword two fathom long in his fist. Give him a blue pill, doctor; he looks as though he was billy-us." The doctor raised his rifle--and Captain Diego Pinto, commander in his Most Catholic Majesty's navy, slept with his fathers.