This was an accident
that might have happened to any man. The carcass was too heavy
to carry home, so we cut it in halves, not fore and aft down the
backbone, as your stupid butchers do, but made a short cut across the
loins, a far more compendious and portable method than the other. We
marched off with the hind legs, loins, and kidney, having first of all
buried the head and shoulders in the field, determined to call and
take it away the following night.
We were partly seen, and severely scrutinized in our action by
a neighbouring gun-boat, whose crew were no doubt as hungry as
ourselves; they got hold of one of our men, who, like a fool, let the
cat out of the bag, when a pint of grog got into it. The fellow hinted
where the other half lay, and these _unprincipled rascals_ went after
it, fully resolved to appropriate it to themselves; but they were
outwitted, as they deserved to be for their roguery. The farmer to
whom the calf belonged had got a hint of what was done, and finding
that we had buried one half of the calf, procured a party of soldiers
ready to take possession of us when we should come to fetch it away;
accordingly, the party who went from the other gun-boat after dark,
having found out the spot, were very busy disinterring their prey,
when they were surprised, taken prisoners, and marched away to the
British camp, leaving the dead body behind.
We, quite unconscious of what was done, came soon after, found our
veal, and marched off with it.
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