A few long minutes went by, and then the coastguard heard a sound of
laboured breathing; this sound came from a horse which was dragging a
large hay-cart through the heavy sand. Two men walked, one on each side
of the horse, and a third pushed the cart from behind. The coastguard
man had only two shots to spare, and he did not know in the least
whether the men opposed to him were armed or not. His decision had to be
made swiftly. He was a kind man, fond of dumb animals, and averse to
hurting anything in the world; but he saw that there was only one way of
preventing the cargo from being safely carried inland. It went sorely
against him to take an innocent life; but just as the horse passed him,
he fired, aiming a little behind the near shoulder. The horse gave a
convulsive stagger and fell dead in the shafts. There was then left one
man with a pistol against four, who might or might not be armed. Luckily
it happened that the smugglers only carried bludgeons. The coastguard
saw that he could not hope to catch any of them, so he said quietly: "I
have another shot here, and I am quite safe up to thirty paces. If you
don't clear away, I'll have one of you; but I don't say which one it
will be."
This practical address had a very good effect; the men wisely ran away.
The coastguard loaded his other pistol and mounted guard on the cart.
In the morning a passing tramp brought him help; the cart was conveyed
to the station, and it was found that a splendid haul had been
attempted. There was a load of silks and brandy, which was worth a great
deal of money. This was the very last attempt at old-fashioned smuggling
that ever was made on the north-east coast, and there is no doubt that
the attempt would have been successful if only raw young sailors had
been employed as guards, instead of an old hand who knew every move of
the game.
The coastguardman received his promotion soon afterwards, and he
continued to express his contempt for man-o'-war's men and smugglers
till he arrived at a very old age.