"Nearly half a mile astern was three small country ships, such as might creep round the coast to Chittagong, dodgin’ the pirates o’ the Sandarbands if they was lucky, and gettin’ their weazands slit if they wasn’t. They drew less water than us, and was generally handier in the river, which is uncommon full o’ shoals and sandbanks; but for all that I remember they was still maybe half a mile astern when we dropped anchor--anchors I should say--for the night, some way below Diamond Harbour. But to us white men the ways o’ these Moors[#] is always a bag o’ mystery, and as seamen they en’t anyhow of much account. Well, it might be about seven bells, and my watch below, when I was woke by a most tremenjous bangin’ and hullabaloo. We tumbles up mighty sharp, and well we did, for there was one of these country fellows board and board with us, and another foulin’ our hawser. Their grapnels came whizzin’ aboard; but the first lot couldn’t take a hold nohow, and she dropped down stream. That gave us a chance to be ready for the other. She got a grip of us and held on like a shark what grabs you by the legs. But pistols and pikes had been sarved out, and when they came bundlin’ over into the foc’sle, we bundled ’em back into the Hugli, and you may be sure they wasn’t exactly seaworthy when they got there. They was a mixed lot; that we soon found out by their manner o’ swearin’ as they slipped by the board, for although there was Moors among ’em most of ’em was Frenchies or Dutchmen, and considerin’ they wasn’t Englishmen they made a good fight of it. But over they went, until only a few was left; and we was just about to finish ’em off, when another country ship dropped alongside, and before we knew where we was a score of yellin’ ruffians was into the waist and rushin’ us in the stern-sheets, as you might say. We had to fight then, by thunder! we did. [#] The natives of India were thus called by Englishmen in the 18th century.