On the 1st of September the _Enterprise_ sailed from Portsmouth on a cruise to the southward. She encountered light weather and baffling winds, and saw no sail until early on the morning of the 5th, when a brig was espied inshore getting under way. For some time the _Enterprise_ tacked to and fro, unable to ascertain the character of the stranger. But soon all doubts were put aside by seeing the brig display two flags, one at each mast-head; and although some miles distant, she fired a gun, as if in challenge. The _Enterprise_ hauled up on the wind and stood out to sea, preparing for action. Then followed one of the strange circumstances which happened so often in those days. The wind died away, and for six hours or more the two enemies drifted about in a dead calm, watching each other through their glasses, and preparing for the conflict that would take place as soon as the breeze would enable them to lessen the distance between them. At half-past two in the afternoon it came, from the southwest, a light wind that gave the _Enterprise_ the advantage of the weather-gage. It took only a few minutes to find out that, so far as sailing went, the two vessels were on equal terms, and at 3 P.M. Burrows shortened sail, squared his yards, and bore down before the wind. He hoisted an ensign at each of his mast-heads and another at the peak, firing a gun to answer the previous challenge of the morning. Then, in silence, the two vessels neared. Closer and closer they came without a shot being fired, the men at the guns being eager to commence, and the officers anxiously awaiting word from the young commander (Burrows was but twenty-eight), who was walking quickly to and fro alone on the quarter-deck. When within half pistol-shot the Englishman came up into the wind and gave three cheers, immediately letting go his starboard broadside. The cheers and the broadside were returned, and the action at once became general. Burrows had the opportunity for which he had been praying. He noticed that the training of his crew was showing to good effect; all the care and trouble he had taken were now being paid for. He had turned to speak to Lieutenant McCall, to attract attention to the way in which the enemy was being hulled, when a musket-ball struck him in the body, and he fell. McCall bent over him. “Don’t take me below,” he said, as he lay on the deck. “Never strike that flag.” Maybe the recollection of the words of the great Lawrence influenced him as he spoke. They brought a hammock from the nettings and placed it underneath his head, and McCall assumed the active command. This had happened during the first eight minutes of the engagement, and so accurate was the gunnery of the Americans that the main-topmast and the topsail yard of the Englishman were soon shot away, and a position gained whence a raking fire was kept up for some twelve minutes.