He went alongside without hailing or stopping the dhow in any way, the wind being light and the craft scarcely forging ahead. Prior to getting alongside he sent the coxswain forward to make a hook, with a chain and rope attached, fast to the dhow, his object in doing so seemingly being to prevent the necessity of the vessel stopping, and to enable him to converse with the captain and to quietly verify her papers. He took the tiller himself, and was alone, with the exception of his steward (a Goanese) and a native interpreter, in the after-part, which is separated from the rest of the boat by a standing canopy, over which one has to climb to get fore or aft. It was still more cut off by the fact of the main-boom having been raised to the height of the top of the ensign staff on the mainmast, and over it the after-part of the rain-awning was spread, being loosely gathered back towards the mast. When the boat was quite close to the dhow, a man, supposed to be the captain of her, stood up aft with a bundle or roll of papers in his hand, and said something as he unfolded them, and pointed to the French flag. What he exactly said is unknown. There were then visible on board the dhow four men, two aft and two forward, all armed with the usual Arab swords and creeses. The forecastle sun-awning was spread at the time from the foremast to a stanchion shipped abaft the stern-piece, and under it were two bluejackets and the writer, the leading stoker was at the engines, whilst the two stokers appear to have been sitting on the inside of the gunnel of the well, i.e. the space for boilers and engines. As the coxswain was standing on the stem of the boat, in the act of making fast with the hook rope, he caught sight of some eight or ten men crouched in the bottom of the boat with guns at the "ready" position. He sang out to the captain aft, when they rose up and fired; he flung the hook at them, and closed with one, both falling overboard together. The Arabs, the number of whom is variously estimated at from fifteen to twenty-five, then jumped into the pinnace with drawn swords and clubbed guns. As their first fire killed one man (a stoker) outright, mortally wounded another, and severely wounded two others of the boat's crew, the Arabs found but little difficulty in driving the rest, unarmed as they were, overboard. Captain Brownrigg and his steward were the only two left, and both were in the after-part of the boat. He seized a rifle, and at the first shot knocked an Arab over; but before he could reload three or four of them rushed aft to attack him, getting on the top of the canopy and at the sides, but he, clubbing his rifle, kept them at bay, fighting with a determination that filled the survivors, who were then in the water unable to get on board, with the greatest admiration, they describing him as "fighting like a lion."