Under Drake's Flag A Tale of the Spanish Main / Henty, G. A. (George Alfred), 1832-1902

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Title: Under Drake's Flag
       A Tale of the Spanish Main

Author: G. A. Henty

Illustrator: Gordon Browne

Release Date: September 8, 2006 [EBook #19206]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

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Produced by Martin Robb





Under Drake's Flag:

A Tale of the Spanish Main
by G A Henty.

Contents

Chapter  1: The Wreck on the Devon Coast.
Chapter  2: Friends and Foes.
Chapter  3: On the Spanish Main.
Chapter  4: An Unsuccessful Attack.
Chapter  5: Cast Ashore.
Chapter  6: In the Woods.
Chapter  7: An Attack in Force.
Chapter  8: The Forest Fastness.
Chapter  9: Baffled.
Chapter 10: Southward Ho!
Chapter 11: The Marvel of Fire.
Chapter 12: Across a Continent.
Chapter 13: Through the Cordilleras.
Chapter 14: On the Pacific Coast.
Chapter 15: The Prison of the Inquisition.
Chapter 16: The Rescue.
Chapter 17: The Golden Hind.
Chapter 18: San Francisco Bay.
Chapter 19: South Sea Idols.
Chapter 20: A Portuguese Settlement.
Chapter 21: Wholesale Conversion.
Chapter 22: Home.



Chapter 1: The Wreck on the Devon Coast.



It was a Stormy morning in the month of May, 1572; and the
fishermen of the little village of Westport, situate about five
miles from Plymouth, clustered in the public house of the place;
and discussed, not the storm, for that was a common topic, but the
fact that Master Francis Drake, whose ships lay now at Plymouth,
was visiting the Squire of Treadwood, had passed through the
village over night, and might go through it again, today. There was
not one of the hardy fishermen there but would gladly have joined
Drake's expedition, for marvellous tales had been told of the great
booty which he, and other well-known captains, had already obtained
from the Dons on the Spanish Main. The number, however, who could
go was limited, and even of these the seafaring men were but a
small proportion; for in those days, although a certain number of
sailors were required to trim the sails and navigate the ship, the
strength of the company were the fighting men, who were soldiers by
trade, and fought on board ship as if on land.

Captain Drake was accompanied by many men of good Devon blood, for
that county was then ahead of all England in its enterprise, and
its seamanship; and no captain of name or repute ever had any
difficulty in getting together a band of adventurers, from the
sturdy population of her shores.

"I went over myself, last week," said a finely-built young sailor,
"and I prayed the captain, on my knees, to take me on board; but he
said the tale had been full, long ago; and that so many were the
applicants that Master Drake and himself had sworn a great oath,
that they would take none beyond those already engaged."

"Aye! I would have gone myself," said a grizzly, weatherbeaten old
sailor, "if they would have had me. There was Will Trelawney, who
went on such another expedition as this, and came back with more
bags of Spanish dollars than he could carry. Truly they are a gold
mine, these Western seas; but even better than getting gold is the
thrashing of those haughty Spaniards, who seem to look upon
themselves as gods, and on all others as fit only to clean their
worships' boots."

"They cannot fight neither, can they?" asked a young sailor.

"They can fight, boy, and have fought as well as we could; but,
somehow, they cannot stand against us, in those seas. Whether it is
that the curse of the poor natives, whom they kill, enslave, and
ill treat in every way, rises against them, and takes away their
courage and their nerve; but certain is it that, when our little
craft lay alongside their big galleons, fight as they will, the
battle is as good as over. Nothing less than four to one, at the
very least, has any chance against our buccaneers."

"They ill treat those that fall into their hands, do they not?"

"Ay, do they!" said the old sailor. "They tear off their flesh with
hot pincers, wrench out their nails, and play all sorts of devil's
games; and then, at last, they burn what is left of them in the
marketplaces. I have heard tell of fearsome tales, lad; but the
Spaniards outwit themselves. Were our men to have fair treatment as
prisoners of war, it may be that the Spaniards would often be able
to hold their own against us; but the knowledge that, if we are
taken, this horrible fate is certain to be ours, makes our men
fight with a desperate fury; and never to give in, as long as one
is left. This it is that accounts for the wonderful victories which
we have gained there. He would be a coward, indeed, who would not
fight with thumbscrews and a bonfire behind him."

"It is said that the queen and her ministers favor, though not
openly, these adventures."

"She cannot do it openly," said the old man, "for here in Europe we
are at peace with Spain--worse luck."

"How is it, then, that if we are at peace here, we can be at war in
the Indian Seas?"

"That is more than I can tell thee, lad. I guess the queen's writ
runs not so far as that; and while her majesty's commands must be
obeyed, and the Spanish flag suffered to pass unchallenged, on
these seas; on the Spanish main there are none to keep the peace,
and the Don and the Englishman go at each other's throats, as a
thing of nature."

"The storm is rising, methinks. It is not often I have heard the
wind howl more loudly. It is well that the adventurers have not yet
started. It would be bad for any craft caught in the Channel,
today."

As he spoke, he looked from the casement. Several people were seen
hurrying towards the beach.

"Something is the matter, lads; maybe a ship is driving on the
rocks, even now."

Seizing their hats and cloaks, the party sallied out, and hurried
down to the shore. There they saw a large ship, driving in before
the wind into the bay. She was making every effort that seamanship
could suggest, to beat clear of the head; but the sailors saw, at
once, that her case was hopeless.

"She will go on the Black Shoal, to a certainty," the old sailor
said; "and then, may God have mercy on their souls."

"Can we do nothing to help them?" a woman standing near asked.

"No, no," the sailor said; "we could not launch a boat, in the
teeth of this tremendous sea. All we can do is to look out, and
throw a line to any who may be washed ashore, on a spar, when she
goes to pieces."

Presently a group of men, whose dress belonged to the upper class,
moved down through the street to the beach.

"Aye! there is Mr. Trevelyan," said the sailor, "and the gentleman
beside him is Captain Drake, himself."

The group moved on to where the fishermen were standing.

"Is there no hope," they asked, "of helping the ship?"

The seamen shook their heads.

"You will see for yourself, Master Drake, that no boat could live
in such a sea as this."

"It could not put out from here," the Captain said; "but if they
could lower one from the ship, it might live until it got into the
breakers."

"Aye, aye," said a sailor; "but there is no lowering a boat from a
ship which has begun to beat on the Black Shoal."

"Another minute and she will strike," the old sailor said.

All gazed intently at the ship. The whole population of the village
were now on the shore, and were eager to render any assistance, if
it were possible. In another minute or two, a general cry announced
that the ship had struck. Rising high on a wave, she came down with
a force which caused her mainmast at once to go over the side.
Another lift on the next sea and then, high and fast, she was
jammed on the rocks of the Black Shoal. The distance from shore was
but small, not more than three hundred yards, and the shouts of the
sailors on board could be heard in the storm.

"Why does not one of them jump over, with a rope?" Captain Drake
said, impatiently. "Are the men all cowards, or can none of them
swim? It would be easy to swim from that ship to the shore, while
it is next to impossible for anyone to make his way out, through
these breakers.

"Is there no one who can reach her from here?" he said, looking
round.

"No one among us, your honor," the old sailor said. "Few here can
keep themselves up in the water, in a calm sea; but if man or boy
could swim through that surf, it is the lad who is just coming down
from behind us. The Otter, as we call him, for he seems to be able
to live, in water, as well as on land."

The lad of whom they were speaking was a bright-faced boy, of some
fifteen years of age. He was squarely built, and his dress differed
a little from that of the fisher lads standing on the beach.

"Who is he?" asked Captain Drake.

"He is the son of the schoolmaster here, a learned man, and they do
say one who was once wealthy. The lad himself would fain go to sea,
but his father keeps him here. It is a pity, for he is a bold boy,
and would make a fine sailor."

The Otter, as he had been called, had now come down to the beach;
and, with his hands shading his eyes from the spray, sheets of
which the wind carried along with blinding force, he gazed at the
ship and the sea, with a steady intentness.

"I think I can get out to her," he said, to the fishermen.

"It is madness, boy," Captain Drake said. "There are few men,
indeed, so far as I know, in these climes--I talk not of the
heathens of the Western Islands--who could swim through a breaking
sea, like yonder."

"I think I can do it," the boy said, quietly. "I have been out in
as heavy seas before, and if one does but choose one's time, and
humor them a bit, the waves are not much to be feared, after all.

"Get me the light line," he said, to the sailors, "and I will be
off, at once."

So saying, he carelessly threw off his clothes. The fishermen
brought a light line. One end they fastened round his shoulders
and, with a cheerful goodbye, he ran down to the water's edge.

The sea was breaking with tremendous violence, and the chance of
the lad's getting out, through the breakers, appeared slight,
indeed. He watched, however, quietly for three or four minutes,
when a wave larger than usual broke on the beach. Following it out,
he stood knee deep, till the next great wave advanced; then, with a
plunge, he dived in beneath it. It seemed an age before he was
again seen, and Captain Drake expressed his fear that his head must
have been dashed against a rock, beneath the water.

But the men said:

"He dives like a duck, sir, and has often frighted us by the time
he keeps under water. You will see, he will come up beyond the
second line of waves."

It seemed an age, to the watchers, before a black spot appeared
suddenly, beyond the foaming line of breakers. There was a general
shout of "There he is!" But they had scarce time to note the
position of the swimmer, when he again disappeared. Again and again
he came up, each time rapidly decreasing the distance between
himself and the shipwrecked vessel; and keeping his head above the
waves for a few seconds, only, at each appearance.

The people in the vessel were watching the progress of the lad,
with attention and interest even greater than was manifested by
those on shore; and as he approached the ship, which already showed
signs of breaking up, a line was thrown to him. He caught it, but
instead of holding on and being lifted to the ship, he fastened the
light rope which he had brought out to it, and made signs to them
to haul.

"Fasten a thicker rope to it," he shouted, "and they will haul it
in, from the shore."

It would have been no easy matter to get on board the ship; so,
having done his work, the lad turned to make his way back to the
shore.

A thick rope was fastened, at once, by those of the crew who still
remained on the deck of the vessel, to the lighter one; and those
on shore began to pull it rapidly in; but, ere the knotted joint
reached the shore, a cry from all gathered on the beach showed that
the brave attempt of the Otter had been useless. A tremendous sea
had struck the ship, and in a moment it broke up; and a number of
floating fragments, alone, showed where a fine vessel had, a few
minutes before, floated on the sea.

The lad paused in his course towards the shore and, looking round,
endeavored to face the driving wind and spray; in hopes that he
might see, among the fragments of the wreck, some one to whom his
assistance might be of use. For a time, he could see no signs of a
human being among the floating masses of wreck; and indeed, he was
obliged to use great caution in keeping away from these, as a blow
from any of the larger spars might have been fatal.

Presently, close to him, he heard a short muffled bark; and,
looking round, saw a large dog with a child in its mouth. The
animal, which was of the mastiff breed, appeared already exhausted.
The Otter looked hastily round and, seeing a piece of wreck of
suitable size, he seized it, and with some difficulty succeeded in
bringing it close to the dog. Fortunately the spar was a portion of
one of the yards, and still had a quantity of rope connected to it.
He now took hold of the child's clothes, the dog readily yielding
up the treasure he had carried, seeing that the newcomer was likely
to afford better assistance than himself.

In a few moments the child was fastened to the spar, and the Otter
began steadily to push it towards the shore; the dog swimming
alongside, evidently much relieved at getting rid of his burden.
When he neared the line of breakers the lad waved his hand, as a
sign to them to prepare to rush forward, and lend a hand, when the
spar approached. He then paddled forward quietly and, keeping just
outside the line of the breakers, waved to those on shore to throw,
if possible, a rope. Several attempts were made to hurl a stone,
fastened to the end of a light line, within his reach.

After many failures, he at last caught the line. This he fastened
to the spar, and signaled to those on shore to pull it in; then,
side by side with the dog, he followed. Looking round behind him,
he watched a great breaker rolling in and, as before, dived as it
passed over his head, and rode forward on the swell towards the
shore.

Then there was a desperate struggle. At one moment his feet touched
the ground, at another he was hauled back and tossed into the
whirling sea; sometimes almost losing his consciousness, but ever
keeping his head cool, and striving steadily to make progress.
Several times he was dashed against the beach with great force, and
it was his knowledge that the only safe way of approaching shore,
through a heavy surf, is to keep sideways to the waves, and allow
them to roll one over and over, that he escaped death--for, had he
advanced straight towards the shore, the force of the waves would
have rolled him heels-over-head, and would almost certainly have
broken his neck.

At last, just as consciousness was leaving him, and he thought that
he could struggle no more, a hand grasped his arm. The fishermen,
joining hand in hand, had gone down into the surf; and after many
ineffectual efforts, had at last seized him, as a retiring wave was
carrying him out again, for the fifth time.

With the consciousness of rescue all feeling left him, and it was
some minutes before he recovered his senses. His first question was
for the safety of the child on the spar, and he was glad to hear
that it had come to shore without hurt. The dog, too, had been
rolled up the beach, and seized before taken off again, but had
broken one of its legs.

The Otter was soon on his feet again and, saying, "I must make my
way home, they will be alarmed about me," was about to turn away,
when a group of gentlemen standing near advanced.

"You are a fine lad," one of them said to him. "A fine lad, and an
honor to the south of Devonshire. My name is Francis Drake, and if
there be aught that I can do for you, now or hereafter, I shall be
glad, indeed, to do my utmost for so gallant a youth as yourself."

"Oh, sir!" the boy exclaimed, his cheek flushing with excitement.
"If you are Master Francis Drake, will you let me join your ship,
for the voyage to the Indies?"

"Ah! my boy," the gentleman said, "you have asked the only thing,
perhaps, which I should feel obliged to refuse you. Already we have
more than our number, and to avoid the importunity of the many who
wish to go, or of my powerful friends who desired to place sons or
relations in my charge, I have been obliged to swear that I would
take no other sailor, in addition to those already shipped.

"You are, however, young," he said, as he marked the change in the
boy's face; "and I promise you that if I come back, and again sail
on an expedition like that on which I now start, that you shall be
one of my crew. What is your name, lad? I hear them call you Otter,
and truly the beast is no better swimmer than you are."

"My name, sir, is Ned Hearne. My father is the schoolmaster here."

"Will he consent, think you, to your taking to a seafaring life?"

"Methinks he will, sir. He knows that my heart is set upon it, for
he hath often said if I loved my lessons with one-tenth of the love
I bear for the sea, I should make a good scholar, and be a credit
to him."

"I will not forget you, lad. Trust me, and when you hear of my
return, fail not to send a reminder, and to claim a place in my
next adventure."

Ned Hearne, delighted at the assurance, ran off at full speed to
the cottage where his father resided, at the end of the village.
The dominie, who was an old man, wore the huge tortoise-shell
rimmed spectacles of the time.

"Wet again," he said, as his son burst into the room in which he
was sitting, studying a Greek tome. "Truly thou earnest the name of
which thou art so proud, Otter, hardly. What tempted thee to go
into the water, on a day like this?"

Ned briefly explained what had taken place. The story was no
unusual one, for this was the third time that he had swum out to
vessels on the rocks between Westport and Plymouth. Then he related
to his father how Captain Francis Drake had spoken to him, and
praised him, and how he had promised that, on his next trip to the
West Indies, he would take him with him.

"I would not have you count too much upon that," the dominie said,
dryly. "It is like, indeed, that he may never come back from this
hare-brain adventure; and if he brings home his skin safe, he will,
methinks, have had enough of burning in the sun, and fighting the
Spaniards."

"But hath he not already made two or three voyages thither,
Father?" the boy asked.

"That is true enough," said his father; "but from what I gather,
these were mere trips to spy out the land. This affair on which he
starts now will be, I wot, a very different matter."

"How is it, Father," the boy said on the following morning,
resuming the conversation from the point which they were at when he
went up to change his wet clothes, the day before, "that when
England is at peace with Spain, our sailors and the Spanish do
fight bloodily, in the West Indies?"

"That, my son, is a point upon which the Roman law telleth us
nothing. I have, in my shelves, some very learned treatises on war;
but in none do I find mention of a state of things in which two
powers, at peace at home, do fight desperately at the extreme end
of the earth."

"But, Father, do you think it not lawful to kill the Spaniard, and
to take the treasures which he robbeth from the poor heathen of the
West?"

"I know not about lawful, my son, but I see no warrant whatsoever
for it; and as for heathen, indeed, it appears to me that the
attacks upon him do touch, very closely, upon piracy upon the high
seas. However, as the country in general appeareth to approve of
it, and as it is said that the queen's most gracious majesty doth
gladly hear of the beating of the Spaniards, in those seas, it
becometh not me to question the rights of the case."

"At any rate, Father, you would not object when the time comes for
me to sail with Mr. Francis Drake?"

"No, my boy; thou hast never shown any aptitude whatever for
learning. Thou canst read and write, but beyond that thy knowledge
runneth not. Your mind seems to be set on the water, and when you
are not in it you are on it. Therefore it appears, to me, to be
flying in the face of Providence to try to keep you on shore. Had
your poor mother lived, it would have been a different thing. Her
mind was set upon your becoming a clerk; but there, one might as
well try to make a silk purse from the ear of a sow. But I tell you
again, count not too much upon this promise. It may be years before
Mr. Francis Drake may be in a position to keep it."

Had Ned Hearne watched for Captain Drake's second voyage, he would,
indeed, as his father had said, have waited long. Three days after
the conversation, however, a horseman from Plymouth rode into the
little village, and inquired for the house of Master Hearne. Being
directed thither, he rode up in haste to the gate.

"Here is a letter!" he cried, "for the son of the schoolmaster, who
goes by the name of the Otter."

"I am he," Ned cried. "What is it, and who can have written to me?"

"It is a letter from His Honor, the Worshipful Mr. Francis Drake."

Seizing the letter, Ned broke the seal, read a few lines, threw his
cap into the air with a shout of joy, and rushed in to his father.

"Father," he said, "Captain Drake has written to acquaint me that
one of the boys in his ship has been taken ill, and cannot go; and
that it has pleased him to appoint me to go in his place; and that
I am to be at Plymouth in three days, at the utmost, bringing with
me what gear I may require for the expedition."

The schoolmaster was a little taken aback at this sudden prospect
of departure, but he had always been wholly indulgent to his son,
and it was not in his nature to refuse to allow him to avail
himself of an opportunity which appeared to be an excellent one.
The danger of these expeditions was, no doubt, very great; but the
spoils were in proportion, and there was not a boy or man of the
seafaring population of Devon who would not gladly have gone with
the adventurous captains.




Chapter 2: Friends and Foes.



Three days after the receipt of the letter, Ned Hearne stood with
his bundle on the quay at Plymouth. Near him lay a large rowboat
from the ships, waiting to take off the last comers. A little way
behind, Captain Francis Drake and his brother, Captain John Drake,
talked with the notable people of Plymouth, who had come down to
bid them farewell; the more since this was a holiday, being Whitsun
Eve, the 24th May, and all in the town who could spare time had
made their way down to the Hove to watch the departure of the
expedition; for none could say how famous this might become, or how
great deeds would be accomplished by the two little craft lying
there. Each looker on thought to himself that it might be that, to
the end of his life, he should tell his children and his children's
children, with pride, "I saw Mr. Drake start for his great voyage."

Small, indeed, did the fleet appear, in comparison to the work
which it had to do. It was composed of but two vessels. The first,
the Pacha, of seventy tons, carrying forty-seven men and boys, was
commanded by Captain Francis Drake himself. By her side was the
Swanne, of twenty-five tons, carrying twenty-six men and boys, and
commanded by Captain John Drake. This was truly but a small affair
to undertake so great a voyage.

In those days the Spaniards were masters of the whole of South
America, and of the Isles of the West Indies. They had many very
large towns full of troops, and great fleets armed to carry the
treasure which was collected there to Spain. It did seem almost
like an act of madness that two vessels, which by the side of those
of the Spaniards were mere cockleshells, manned in all by less than
eighty men, should attempt to enter a region where they would be
regarded, and rightly, as enemies, and where the hand of every man
would be against them.

Captain Drake and his men thought little of these things. The
success which had attended their predecessors had inspired the
English sailors with a belief in their own invincibility, when
opposed to the Spaniards. They looked, to a certain extent, upon
their mission as a crusade. In those days England had a horror of
Popery, and Spain was the mainstay and supporter of this religion.
The escape which England had had of having Popery forced upon it,
during the reign of Mary, by her spouse, Philip of Spain, had been
a narrow one; and even now, it was by no means certain that Spain
would not, sooner or later, endeavor to carry out the pretensions
of the late queen's husband. Then, too, terrible tales had come of
the sufferings of the Indians at the hands of the Spaniards; and it
was certain that the English sailors who had fallen into the hands
of Spain had been put to death, with horrible cruelty. Thus, then,
the English sailors regarded the Spaniards as the enemy of their
country, as the enemy of their religion, and as the enemy of
humanity. Besides which, it cannot be denied that they viewed them
as rich men, well worth plundering; and although, when it came to
fighting, it is probable that hatred overbore the thought of gain,
it is certain that the desire for gold was, in itself, the main
incentive to those who sailed upon these expeditions.

Amid the cheers of the townsfolk the boats pushed off, Mr. Francis
Drake and his brother waving their plumed hats to the burghers of
Plymouth, and the sailors giving a hurrah, as they bent to the
oars. Ned Hearne, who had received a kind word of greeting from Mr.
Drake, had taken his place in the bow of one of the boats, lost in
admiration at the scene; and at the thought that he was one of this
band of heroes, who were going out to fight the Spaniards, and to
return laden with countless treasure wrested from them. At the
thought his eyes sparkled, his blood seemed to dance through his
veins.

The western main, in those days, was a name almost of enchantment.
Such strange tales had been brought home, by the voyagers who had
navigated those seas, of the wonderful trees, the bright birds, the
beauties of nature, the gold and silver, and the abundance of all
precious things, that it was the dream of every youngster on the
seaboard some day to penetrate to these charmed regions. A week
since, and the realization of the dream had appeared beyond his
wildest hopes. Now, almost with the suddenness of a transformation
scene, this had changed; and there was he on his way out to the
Swanne, a part of the expedition itself. It was to the Swanne that
he had been allotted, for it was on board that ship that the boy
whose place he was to take had been seized with illness.

Although but twenty-five tons in burden, the Swanne made a far
greater show than would be made by a craft of that size in the
present day. The ships of the time lay but lightly on the water,
while their hulls were carried up to a prodigious height; and it is
not too much to say that the portion of the Swanne, above water,
was fully as large as the hull which we see of a merchantman of
four times her tonnage. Still, even so, it was but a tiny craft to
cross the Atlantic, and former voyages had been generally made in
larger ships.

Mr. Francis Drake, however, knew what he was about. He considered
that large ships required large crews to be left behind to defend
them, that they drew more water, and were less handy; and he
resolved, in this expedition, he would do no small part of his work
with pinnaces and rowboats; and of these he had three fine craft,
now lying in pieces in his hold, ready to fit together on arriving
in the Indies.

As they neared the ships the two boats separated, and Ned soon
found himself alongside of the Swanne. A ladder hung at her side,
and up this Ned followed his captain; for in those days the strict
etiquette that the highest goes last had not been instituted.

"Master Holyoake," said Mr. John Drake, to a big and
powerful-looking man standing near, "this is the new lad, whose
skill in swimming, and whose courage, I told you of yesternight. He
will, I doubt not, be found as willing as he is brave; and I trust
that you will put him in the way of learning his business as a
sailor. It is his first voyage. He comes on board a green hand, but
I doubt not that, ere the voyage be finished, he will have become a
smart young sailor."

"I will put him through," John Holyoake, sailing master of the
ship, replied; for in those days the sailing master was the
navigator of the ship, and the captain was as often as not a
soldier, who knew nothing whatever about seamanship. The one sailed
the ship, the other fought it; and the admirals were, in those
days, more frequently known as generals, and held that position on
shore.

As Ned looked round the deck, he thought that he had never seen a
finer set of sailors. All were picked men, hardy and experienced,
and for the most part young. Some had made previous voyages to the
West Indies, but the greater portion were new to that country. They
looked the men on whom a captain could rely, to the last. Tall and
stalwart, bronzed with the sun, and with a reckless and fearless
expression about them, which boded ill to any foes upon whom they
might fall.

Although Ned had never been to sea on a long voyage, he had sailed
too often in the fishing boats of his native village to have any
qualm of seasickness, or to feel in any degree like a new hand. He
was, therefore, at once assigned to a place and duty.

An hour later the admiral, as Mr. Francis Drake was called, fired a
gun, the two vessels hoisted their broad sails and turned their
heads from shore, and the crews of both ships gave a parting cheer,
as they turned their faces to the south.

As Ned was not in the slightest degree either homesick or seasick,
he at once fell to work, laughing and joking with the other boys,
of whom there were three on board. He found that their duties
consisted of bearing messages, of hauling any rope to which they
were told to fix themselves, and in receiving, with as good a face
as might be, the various orders, to say nothing of the various
kicks, which might be bestowed upon them by all on board. At the
same time their cheerful countenances showed that these things
which, when told, sounded a little terrible, were in truth in no
way serious.

Ned was first shown where he was to sling his hammock, and how;
where he was to get his food; and under whose orders he was
specially to consider himself; the master, for the present, taking
him under his own charge. For the next ten days, as the vessel
sailed calmly along, with a favoring wind, Ned had learned all the
names of the ropes and sails, and their uses; could climb aloft,
and do his share of the work of the ship; and if not yet a skilled
sailor, was at least on the high road to become one. The master was
pleased at his willingness and eagerness to oblige, and he soon
became a great favorite of his.

Between the four boys on the ship a good feeling existed. All had
been chosen as a special favor, upon the recommendation of one or
other of those in authority. Each of them had made up his mind
that, one of these days, he, too, would command an expedition to
the West Indies. Each thought of the glory which he would attain;
and although, in the hearts of many of the elder men in the
expedition, the substantial benefits to be reaped stood higher than
any ideas of glory or honor; to the lads, at least, pecuniary gain
exercised no inducement whatever. They burned to see the strange
country, and to gain some of the credit and glory which would, if
the voyage was successful, attach to each member of the crew. All
were full of fun, and took what came to them, in the way of work,
so good temperedly and cheerfully, that the men soon ceased to give
them work for work's sake.

They were, too, a strong and well-built group of boys. Ned was by a
full year the youngest, and by nigh a head the shortest of them;
but his broad shoulders and sturdy build, and the strength acquired
by long practice in swimming and rowing, made him their equal.

There were, however, no quarrels among them, and their strength
they agreed to use in alliance, if need be, should any of the crew
make a dead set at one or other of them; for even in an expedition
like this there must be some brutal, as well as many brave men.
There were assuredly two or three, at least, of those on board the
Swanne who might well be called brutal. They were for the most part
old hands, who had lived on board ship half their lives, had taken
part in the slave traffic of Captain Hawkins, and in the
buccaneering exploits of the earlier commanders. To them the voyage
was one in which the lust of gold was the sole stimulant; and,
accustomed to deeds of bloodshed, what feelings they ever had had
become utterly blunted, and they needed but the power to become
despotic and brutal masters.

The chief among these was Giles Taunton, the armorer He was a
swarthy ruffian, who hid, beneath the guise of a jovial bonhomie, a
cruel and unfeeling nature. He was ever ready to cuff and beat the
boys, on the smallest provocation.

They soon gathered together, in a sort of defensive league, against
their common oppressors. All four were high-spirited lads. The
other three, indeed, were sons of men of substance in Devon, whose
fathers had lent funds to Captain Drake for the carrying out of his
great enterprise. They therefore looked but ill on the kicks and
curses which, occasionally, fell to their lot.

One day they gathered together round the bowsprit, and talked over
what they should do. Gerald Summers, the eldest of the party,
proposed that they should go in a body to Captain Drake, and
complain of the tyranny to which they were subject. After some
talk, however, all agreed that such a course as this would lower
them in the estimation of the men, and that it would be better to
put up with the ill treatment than, to get the name of tell tales.

Ned then said to the others:

"It seems to me that, if we do but hold together, we need not be
afraid of this big bully. If we all declare to each other and swear
that, the first time he strikes one of us, we will all set upon
him; my faith on it, we shall be able to master him, big as he is.
We are all of good size, and in two years will think ourselves men;
therefore it would be shame, indeed, if the four of us could not
master one, however big and sturdy he may be."

After much consultation, it was agreed that this course should be
adopted; and the next day, as Reuben Gale was passing by Giles, he
turned round and struck him on the head with a broom. The boy gave
a long whistle, and in a moment, to the astonishment of the
armorer, the other three lads rushed up, and at once assailed him
with fury. Astonished at such an attack, he struck out at them with
many strange oaths. Gerald he knocked down, but Ned leaped on his
back from behind, and the other two, closing with him, rolled him
on to the deck; then, despite of his efforts, they pummeled him
until his face was swollen and bruised, and his eyes nearly closed.

Some of the men of his own sort, standing by, would fain have
interfered; but the better disposed of the crew, who had seen, with
disgust, the conduct of the armorer and his mates to the boys, held
them back, and said that none should come between.

Just as the boys drew off, and allowed the furious armorer to rise
to his feet, Captain John Drake, attracted by the unusual noise,
came from his cabin.

"What is this?" he asked.

"These young wild cats have leapt upon me," said Giles Taunton
furiously, "and have beaten me nigh to death. But I will have my
turn. They will see, and bitterly shall they have cause to regret
what they have done."

"We have been driven almost weary of our lives, sir, with the foul
and rough conduct of this man, and of some of his mates," Gerald
said. "We did not like to come to tell you of it, and to gain the
name of carry tales; but we had resolved among ourselves at last
that, whoever struck one of us, the whole should set upon him.
Today we have carried it out, and we have shown Giles Taunton that
we are more than a match for one man, at any rate."

"Four good-sized dogs, if they are well managed," said Captain John
Drake, "will pull down a lion; and the best thing that the lion can
do is to leave them alone.

"I am sorry to hear, Master Taunton, that you have chosen to
mistreat these lads; who are, indeed, the sons of worthy men, and
are not the common kind of ship boys. I am sure that my brother
would not brook such conduct, and I warn you that, if any complaint
again on this head reaches me, I shall lay it before him."

With angry mutterings, the armorer went below.

"We have earned a bitter foe," Ned said to his friends, "and we had
best keep our eyes well open. There is very little of the lion
about Master Taunton. He is strong, indeed; but if it be true that
the lion has a noble heart, and fights his foes openly, methinks he
resembles rather the tiger, who is prone to leap suddenly upon his
enemies."

"Yes, indeed, he looked dark enough," Gerald said, "as he went
below; and if looks could have killed us, we should not be standing
here alive, at present."

"It is not force that we need fear now, but that he will do us some
foul turn; at all events, we are now forewarned, and if he plays us
a scurvy trick it will be our own faults."

For several days the voyage went on quietly, and without adventure.
They passed at a distance the Portuguese Isle of Madeira, lying
like a cloud on the sea. The weather now had become warm and very
fair, a steady wind blew, and the two barks kept along at a good
pace.

All sorts of creatures, strange to the boys, were to be seen in the
sea. Sometimes there was a spout of a distant whale. Thousands of
flying fish darted from the water, driven thence by the pursuit of
their enemies beneath; while huge flocks of gulls and other birds
hovered over the sea, chasing the flying fish, or pouncing down
upon the shoals of small fry; whose splashings whitened the surface
of the water, as if a sandbank had laid below it.

Gradually, as the time went on, the heat increased. Many of the
crew found themselves unable to sleep below, for in those days
there was but little thought of ventilation. The boys were among
these, for the heat and the confinement were, to them, especially
irksome.

One day the wind had fallen almost to a calm, and the small boat
had been lowered, to enable the carpenter to do some repair to the
ship's side, where a seam leaked somewhat, when the waves were
high. When night came on, and all was quiet, Ned proposed to the
others that they should slip down the rope over the stern into the
boat which was towing behind; where they could sleep undisturbed by
the tramp of the sentry, or the call to pull at ropes and trim
sails.

The idea was considered a capital one, and the boys slid down into
the boat; where, taking up their quarters as comfortably as they
could, they, after a short chat, curled themselves up and were soon
sound asleep, intending to be on board again, with the earliest
gleam of morn.

When they awoke, however, it was with a start and a cry. The sun
was already high, but there were no signs whatever of the ship;
they floated, alone, in the mid-ocean. With blank amazement they
looked at each other.

"This is a stroke of misfortune, indeed," Gerald said. "We have
lost the ship, and I fear our lives, as well.

"What do you say, Otter?"

For the lad's nickname had come on board ship with him, and he was
generally known by it.

"It seems to me," said Ned, "that our friend the armorer has done
us this bad turn. I am sure that the rope was well tied, for I was
the first who slipped down it, and I looked at the knot well,
before I went over the side and trusted my weight to it. He must
have seen us, and as soon as he thought we were fairly asleep must
have loosened the knot and cast us adrift. What on earth is to be
done, now?"

"I should think," Gerald said, "that it will not be long before the
ship comes back for us. The boat is sure to be missed, in the
morning, for the carpenter will be wanting it to go over the side.
We, too, will be missed, for the captain will be wanting his flagon
of wine, soon after the day has dawned."

"But think you," Tom Tressilis said, "that the captain will turn
back on his voyage, for us?"

"Of that I think there is no doubt," Gerald said; "the only
question is as to the finding us, but I should say that of that
there is little fear; the wind is light, the ship was not making
fast through the water, and will not be more than fifty miles, at
most, away, when she turns on her heel and comes to look for us. I
expect that Master Taunton knew, well enough, that we should be
picked up again; but he guessed that the admiral would not be
pleased at losing a day, by our freak, and that the matter is not
likely to improve the favor in which we may stand with him and his
brother."

"It is going to be a terrible hot day," Ned said, "and with the sun
above our heads and no shade, and not so much as a drop of water,
the sooner we are picked up the more pleasant it will be, even if
we all get a touch of the rope's end for our exploit."

All day the boys watched anxiously. Once they saw the two vessels
sailing backward on their track, but the current had drifted the
boat, and the ships passed fully eight miles away to windward of
them, and thus without seeing them. This caused the boys,
courageous as they were, almost to despair.

"If," argued Gerald, "they pass us in the daylight, our chance is
small, indeed, that they will find us at night. They will,
doubtless, sail back till dusk; and then judge that they have
missed us, or that we have in some way sunk; then, putting their
heads to the west, they will continue their voyage.

"If we had oars, or a sail, we might make a shift to pull the boat
into the track they are following, which would give us a chance of
being picked up when they again turn west; but as we have neither
one nor the other, we are helpless, indeed."

"I do not think," Ned said, "that Captain John or his brother are
the men to leave us, without a great effort; and methinks that,
when they have sailed over the ground to the point where, at the
utmost, we must have parted from them, they will lay by through the
night, and search back again, tomorrow."

And so it proved. On the morrow, about midday, the boys beheld one
of the ships coming up, nearly in a line behind them; while the
other, some six miles away to leeward, was keeping abreast of her.

"They are quartering the ground, like hounds," Gerald said; "and,
thanks to their care and thoughtfulness, we are saved, this time."

By the time that, three hours later, the ship, which was the Pacha,
came alongside, the boys were suffering terribly from the heat and
thirst; for thirty-six hours no drop of water had passed their
lips, and the sun had blazed down upon them with terrible force.
Therefore when the vessel hauled her course, and laid by for a boat
to be lowered to pick them up, their plight was so bad a one that
Captain Francis, although sorely vexed at having lost near two days
of his voyage, yet felt that they had been amply punished for their
escapade.




Chapter 3: On the Spanish Main.



The four boys, upon gaining the Pacha's deck, were taken below; and
after drink and food had been given them, were called to the
captain's cabin. He spoke to them gravely, and inquired how it was
that they had all got adrift, together. They told him the
circumstances, and said that they thought there was no chance of
any mishap occurring; the knot was well fastened, the night was
calm, and though they regretted much the pains and trouble which
they had given, and the delay to which they had put the fleet, yet
it did not appear to them, they said frankly, that they had been so
very much to blame, as they could hardly have believed that the
boat would have broken afloat; and indeed, Ned said plainly, they
believed that it was not the result of chance, but that an enemy
had done them an evil turn.

"Why think you so?" Captain Drake said sharply. "How can boys like
you have an enemy?"

Gerald then detailed the account of their trouble with Master
Taunton.

"He is a rough man," Captain Drake said, "and a violent man, maybe,
but he is useful and brave. However, I will have reason with him.
Of course it is a mere suspicion, but I will speak to my brother."

When the boat had first come in sight, the Pacha had made the
signal to the Swanne that the boys were found, and that she was to
keep her course, drawing gradually alongside. Before dark the
vessels were within hailing distance, and Captain Drake, lowering a
boat, went himself on board the Swanne with the four lads. Captain
John was at the top of the ladder, and was about to rate them
soundly.

Captain Francis said, "Let us talk together, John, first;" and he
repaired with him to his cabin, while the crew swarmed round the
boys, to gather an account of how they got adrift.

Then Captain John appeared at the door of his cabin, and called for
Master Taunton, who went in and remained, for some time, in
converse with the two captains. Then he came out, looking surly and
black, and Captain Francis soon after issued out with his brother,
walked round the ship, said a few cheery words to all the crew;
and, with a parting laugh and word of advice to the boys, to be
more careful where they slept in future, descended the side and
went off to his ship again.

Opinions were much mingled, on board the Swanne, as to whether the
slipping of the knot had been the effect of accident or of an evil
turn; however, the boys said little about it, and endeavored, so
far as might be, to let it pass as an accident. They felt that the
matter between themselves and Master Taunton had already gone too
far for their safety and comfort. They doubted not that he had been
reprimanded by the admiral, as well as by Captain John, and that
they had earned his hatred; which, although it might slumber for a
while, was likely to show itself again, when a chance might occur.

Not wishing to inflame farther his fury against them, they
abstained from giving such a complexion to their tale as might seem
to cast a suspicion upon him. Nevertheless there was a strong
feeling, amongst many of the crew, that Master Taunton must have
had a hand in the casting adrift of the boys; or that if he did not
himself do it, it had been done by one of the party who always
worked with him.

Whatever the feelings of Giles Taunton might be, he kept them to
himself. He now never interfered with the boys, by word or deed,
working sullenly and quietly at his craft as armorer The boys felt
their lives much lightened thereby, and now thoroughly enjoyed the
voyage.

Although as boys it was not a part of their duty to go aloft, which
was done by the regular sailors who were hired for the purpose, yet
they spent no small part of their time, when not engaged--and their
duties truly were but nominal--in going aloft, sliding down the
ropes, and learning to be thoroughly at home among the sails.

Every day, too, there would be practices with arms. It was of the
utmost importance that each man should be able to use sword and axe
with the greatest skill; and on board each ship those who were best
skilled would exercise and give lessons to those who were less
practiced with their arms; and, using wooden clubs in place of
boarding axes, they would much belabor each other, to the amusement
of the lookers on. The boys were most assiduous at this kind of
work. It was their highest ambition to become good swordsmen, and
to have a chance of distinguishing themselves against the
Spaniards; and so they practiced diligently, with point and edge.
The knowledge of singlestick and quarterstaff still lingered, in
the country parts of England. They had all already some skill with
these, and picked up fast the use of the heavier, and more manly
arms.

It was the end of July before they sighted land. Great was the
delight of all; for, cooped up in what were after all but narrow
quarters, they longed for a sight of the green and beautiful
forests, of which they had heard so much. They were still far from
the destination which the admiral had marked as his base of
operations. They cruised along for days, with the land often in
sight, but keeping for the most part a long distance out; for they
feared that the knowledge of their coming might be carried, by the
natives, to the Spaniards in the towns; and that such preparations
might be made as would render their journey fruitless.

Near, however, to some of the smaller islands, which were known to
be uninhabited by Spaniards, the vessels went closely, and one day
dropped anchor in a bay. They observed some natives on the shore,
but the white men had so bad a name, caused by the cruelty of the
Spaniards, that these withdrew hastily from sight. The captain,
however, had a boat lowered; which, pulling towards shore, and
waving a white flag in token of amity, met with no resistance.
There were on board some who could speak Spanish, and one of these
shouted aloud to the Indians to have no fear, for that they were
friends, and haters of the Spaniards; whereupon the natives came
out from the woods, and greeted them.

They were a fine race of men, but gentle and timid in their
demeanor They were copper in color, and wore headdresses of bright
feathers, but the men had but little other clothing; of which,
indeed, in such a climate, there is but slight necessity.

In exchange for some trifles from the ship they brought many
baskets of fruits, such as none of those who had fresh come from
England had ever before seen. Great was the joy on board ship,
especially among the four boys, at the profusion of strange fruits;
and they were seen, seated together, eating pineapples, bananas,
and many other things of which they knew not so much as the name,
but which they found delicious, indeed, after so long a voyage upon
salted food.

Then, sailing on, they dropped anchor in the bay which Captain
Drake had himself christened, during his last voyage, Port
Pheasant; for they had killed many of this kind of bird there. Here
the admiral purposed waiting for a while, to refresh the crews and
to put the pinnaces together. Accordingly the anchors were put out,
and all was made snug.

A boat's crew was sent on shore to see that all was safe, for there
was no saying where the Spaniards might be lurking. They returned
with a great plate of lead, which they had found fastened to a
tree, close to the water's edge. Upon it were these words:

"Captain Drake, if it is your fortune to come into this part, make
haste away; for the Spaniards which were with you here, last year,
have betrayed the place; and taken away all that you left here. I
departed hence on this present 7th July, 1572. Your very loving
friend, John Garrett."

"I would I had been here a few days earlier," Captain Drake said,
when he read this notice, "for John Garrett would assuredly have
joined us, and his aid would have been no slight assistance in the
matter in which we are about to engage. However, it will not do to
despise his caution; therefore, lest we be attacked while on shore
by the Spaniards, we will even make a fort; and we shall be able to
unload our stores, and put our pinnaces together, without fear of
interruption."

The crew were now landed; and set to work, with hatchet and bill,
to clear a plot of ground. Three quarters of an acre was, after
three days' work, cleared; and the trees were cast outwards, and
piled together in such form as to make a sort of wall, 30 feet
high, round it. This hard work done, most of the crew were allowed
a little liberty; the carpenters, and experienced artificers, being
engaged in putting the three pinnaces together.

The boys, in pairs, for all could never obtain leave together,
rambled in the woods, full of admiration for the beauties of
nature. Huge butterflies flitted about upon the brilliant flowers.
Long trailing creepers, rich with blossom, hung on the trees. Here
and there, as they passed along, snakes slipped away among the
undergrowth; and these, in truth, the boys were as ready to leave
alone as the reptiles were to avoid them, for they were told that
it was certain death to be bitten by these creatures. Most of all
the boys admired the little birds, which indeed it was hard for
them to believe not to be butterflies, so small were they, so rapid
their movements, and so brilliant their color.

On the 7th day from landing the pinnaces were finished; and, the
vessels being anchored near the shore, the crews went on board for
the last time, preparatory to making their start the next day.

There was one tall and bright-faced sailor with whom the boys had
struck up a great friendship. He had sailed before with Captain
Drake; and as the evening was cool, and there was naught to do,
they begged him to tell them of his former visits in the Caribbean
Seas.

"My first," he said, "was the worst, and might well have been my
last. Captain John Hawkins was our captain, a bold man and a good
sailor; but not gentle as well as brave, as is our good Captain
Francis. Our fleet was a strong one. The admiral's ship, the Jesus,
of Lubeck, was 700 tons. Then there were the smaller craft; the
Minion, Captain Hampton, in which I myself sailed; the William and
John of Captain Boulton; the Judith with Captain Francis Drake; and
two little ships, besides. We sailed later in the year. It was the
2nd October, five years back; that is, 1567. We started badly, for
a storm struck us off Finisterre, the ships separated, and some
boats were lost.

"We came together at Cape de Verde, and there we tried to get
slaves; for it was part of the object of our voyage to buy slaves
on the coast of Africa, and sell them to the Spaniards, here. It
was a traffic for which I myself had but little mind; for though it
be true that these black fellows are a pernicious race, given to
murder, and to fightings of all kinds among themselves, yet are
they human beings; and it is, methinks, cruel to send them beyond
the seas into slavery, so far from their homes and people. But it
was not for me, a simple mariner, to argue the question with our
admirals and captains; and I have heard many worshipful merchants
are engaged in the traffic.

"However that be, methinks that our good Captain Francis did,
likewise, turn himself against this kind of traffic in human flesh;
for although he has been three times, since, in these regions, he
has never again taken a hand in it.

"With much to do at Cape de Verde, we succeeded in getting a
hundred and fifty men; but not without much resistance from the
natives, who shot their arrows at us, and wounded many; and most of
those who were wounded did die of lock-jaw, for the arrows had been
smeared in some poisonous stuff. Then we went farther down the
coast, and took in two hundred more.

"Coasting still farther down, to Saint Jorge de Mina, we landed;
and Captain Hawkins found that the negro king there was at war with
an enemy, a little farther inland. He besought our assistance, and
promised us plenty of slaves, if we would go there and storm the
place with him. Captain Hawkins agreed, cheerfully enough; and set
off, with a portion of his crews, to assist the king.

"The enemy fought well, and it was only after a very hard fight on
our part, and a loss of many men, that we took the town. Methinks
the two hundred and fifty slaves which we took there were dearly
paid for; and there was much grumbling, among the ships, at the
reckless way in which our admiral had risked our lives, for meager
gain. It is true that these slaves would sell at a high price, yet
none of us looked upon money, gained in that way, quite as we do
upon treasure taken in fair fight. In the one case we traffic with
the Spaniards, who are our natural enemies; and it is repugnant, to
a Christian man, to hand over even these poor negroes to such
willful masters as these; in the other we are fighting for our
queen and country. The Spaniards are the natural enemies of all
good Protestants, and every ship we see, and every treasure bag we
capture, does something to pare the nails of that fierce and
haughty power.

"Having filled up our hold with the slaves which we had captured at
Saint Jorge de Mina, we turned our back upon the African coast, and
sailed to the West Indies. At Rio de Hacha, the first port at which
we touched, the people did not wish to trade with us; but the
admiral was not the man to allow people to indulge in fancies of
this kind. We soon forced them to buy, or to sell, that which we
chose; and not what they had a fancy for.

"Sailing along, we were caught in a storm; and in searching for the
port of Saint Juan d'Ulloa, where we hoped to refit, we captured
three ships. In the port we found twelve other small craft, but
these we released; and sent some of them to Mexico, to ask that
victuals and stores might be sent.

"The next day thirteen great ships appeared off the harbor In them
was the Viceroy of Mexico. We had then only the Jesus, the Minion
of 100 tons, and the Judith of 50 tons, and this big fleet was
large enough to have eaten us; but Captain Hawkins put a good face
on it, and sailed out to meet them, waiting at the mouth of the
harbor Here he told them haughtily that he should not allow their
fleet to enter, save on his terms. I doubt not that Hawkins would
have been glad enough to have made off, if he could have done so;
for what with the sale of the slaves, and the vessels we had
captured, we had now 1,800,000 pounds, in silver and gold, on board
of the ships. The Spanish admiral accepted the terms which Captain
Hawkins laid down, and most solemnly swore to observe them.

"So with colors flying, both fleets sailed into the harbor
together. It is true, however, that the man who places faith in a
Spaniard is a fool, and so it proved to us. No sooner had they
reached the port than they began to plot, secretly among
themselves, how to fall upon us. Even then, though they had
thirteen big ships, the smallest of which was larger than the
Jesus, they feared to attack us openly.

"Numbers of men were set to work by them on the shore, secretly, to
get up batteries by which they might fire into us; while a great
ship, having 500 men on board, was moored close alongside the
Minion.

"I remember well talking the matter over with Jack Boscowan, who
was boatswain on board; and we agreed that this time we had run
into an ugly trap, and that we did not see our way out of it.
Englishmen can, as all the world knows, lick the Spaniards when
they are but as one to five; but when there are twenty of the Dons
to one of us, it is clear that the task is a hard one.

"What made it worse was that we were in harbor At sea, our
quickness in handling our ships would have made us a match for the
Spanish fleet; but at anchor, and with the guns of the port
commanding us, we did not truly see how we were to get out of it.

"The fight began by the Spaniards letting their big ship drift
alongside the Minion; when, suddenly, 500 men leapt out on our
decks. We were beaten below in no time, for we were scarce prepared
for so sudden an onslaught. There, however, we defended ourselves
stoutly, firing into the hull of the ship alongside, and defending
our ports and entrances from the Spaniards.

"For a while our case seemed desperate. The Jesus was hard at work,
too; and when she had sunk the ship of the Spanish admiral, she
came up, and gave a broadside into the ship alongside of us. Her
crew ran swiftly back to her; and we, with much rejoicing, poured
on deck again, and began to pay them hotly for their sudden attack
upon us.

"It was a great fight, and one that would have done your heart
good, to see the three English ships, two of them so small as to be
little more than boats, surrounded by a whole fleet of Spaniards,
while from on shore the guns of the forts played upon us. Had it
not been for those forts, I verily believe that we should have
destroyed the Spanish fleet. Already another large vessel had
followed the example of their admiral's ship, and had gone to the
bottom. Over 540 of their sailors we had, as they have themselves
admitted, slain outright.

"We were faring well, and had begun to hope that we might get to
find our way out of the toils, when a cry came from the lookout,
who said that the Jesus was hoisting signals of distress, and that
he feared she was sinking.

"Close as she was lying to a battery, and surrounded by enemies,
our bold captain did not hesitate a minute; but sailed the Minion,
through a crowd of enemies, close to the Jesus. You should have
heard the cheer that the two crews gave each other. It rose above
all the noise of the battle, and would assuredly have done your
heart good. The Jesus was sinking fast, and it was as much as they
could do to tumble into the boats, and to row hastily to our side.
We should have saved them all, but the Spaniards, who dared not lay
us aboard, and who were in no slight degree troubled by the bravery
with which we had fought, set two of their great ships on fire, and
launched them down upon us, preferring to lose two of their own
ships for the sake of capturing or destroying our little bark. The
sight of the ships coming down, in flames, shook the hearts of our
men more than all the fury of the Spaniards had been able to do;
and without waiting for orders, they turned the ship's head for the
mouth of the port.

"The admiral, who had just come on board, cursed and shouted when
he saw what was being done; but the panic of the fire ships got the
better of the men, and we made off, firing broadsides at the
Spaniards' fleet as we passed through them; and aided by the little
Judith, which stuck to us through the whole of the fight.

"When we cooled down and came to think of it, we were in no slight
degree ashamed of our desertion of our comrades in the Jesus.
Fortunately the number so left behind was not large; but we knew
that, according to their custom, the Spaniards would put all to
death, and so indeed it afterwards turned out, many of them being
dispatched with horrible tortures.

"This terrible treatment of the prisoners caused, when it was
known, great indignation; and although Queen Elizabeth did not
declare war with Spain, from that time she gave every countenance
she could to the adventurers who waged war, on their own account,
against her.

"The Minion suffered severely, packed close as she was with all her
own crew, and a great part of that of the Jesus, vast numbers of
whom were wounded. However, at length a hundred were, at their own
request, landed and left to shift for themselves, preferring to run
the risk of Indians, or even of Spaniards, to continue any longer
amid the horrors on board the ship. I myself, boys, was not one of
that number, and came back to England in her.

"Truly it was the worst voyage that I ever made, for though fortune
was for a time good to us, and we collected much money; yet in the
end we lost all, and hardly escaped with our lives. It has seemed
to me that this bad fortune was sent as a punishment upon us, for
carrying off the negroes into slavery. Many others thought the
same, and methinks that that was also the opinion of our present
good admiral."

"Did you come out with him, in his further voyages here?" Ned
asked.

"I was with him in the Dragon, two years ago, when with the Swanne
she came here. Last year I sailed with him in the Swanne, alone."

"You did not have any very stirring adventures?"

"No, we were mainly bent on exploring; but for all that we carried
off many prizes, and might, had we been pilgrims, have bought farms
in Devonshire, and settled down on our share of the prize money;
but there, that is not the way with sailors. Quick come, quick go,
and not one in a hundred that I have ever heard of, however much he
may have taken as his share of prizes, has ever kept it, or
prospered greatly therefrom."

It was now evening, and many of the men had betaken themselves to
the water, for a swim. The heat had been great all day, and as it
was their last, they had been pressed at work to get the stores,
which had been landed, again on board ship; and to finish all up,
ready for the division of the party, next day.

"I do not care for bathing here," Ned said, in reply to a sailor,
who asked him why he too did not join in the sport. "I confess that
I have a dread of those horrible sharks, of which we have heard so
much, and whose black fins we see from time to time."

"I should have thought," said the harsh, sneering voice of Giles
Taunton, "that an Otter would have been a match for a shark. The
swimmers of the South Isles, and indeed the natives here, attack
the sharks without fear. I should have thought that anyone who
prides himself, as you do, upon swimming, would have been equally
willing to encounter them."

"I do not know that I do pride myself on my swimming, Giles
Taunton," Ned said composedly; "at any rate, no one has ever heard
me speak of such abilities as I may have in that way. As to the
natives, they have seen each other fight with sharks, and know how
the matter is gone about. If I were to be present a few times, when
such strife takes place, it may be that I should not shirk from
joining in the sport; but knowing nothing whatever of the method
pursued, or of the manner of attack, I should be worse than a fool,
were I to propose to venture my life in such a sport."

Many sailors who were standing round approved of what Ned said.

"Aye, aye, lad," one said, "no one would think of making his first
jump across the spot where he might be dashed to pieces. Let a man
learn to jump on level ground; and then, when he knows his powers,
he may go across a deep chasm."

By this time a good many of the men were out of the water, when
suddenly there arose the cry of, "Shark!" from the lookout on the
poop. There was a great rush for the ship, and the excitement on
board was nearly as great as that in the water. Ned quietly dropped
off his jacket and his shoes and, seizing a short boarding pike,
waited to see what would come of it.

It chanced that his friends, the other boys, were farther out than
the men; having, with the ardor of youth, engaged themselves in
races, regardless of the admonition that had frequently been given
them to keep near the ship; for the terror of these water beasts
was very great.

The men all gained the ship in safety, but the shark, which had
come up from a direction in which it would cut them off, was
clearly likely to arrive before the boys could gain the side. At
first it seemed, indeed, that their fate was sealed; but the shark,
who in many respects resembles a cat with a mouse, and seems to
prefer to trifle with its victim to the last, allowed them to get
close to the ship; although, by rapid swimming, it could easily
have seized them before.

The nearest to it, as it approached the ship, was Tom Tressilis,
who was not so good a swimmer as the others; but he had swum
lustily, and with good heart, though his white face showed how
great the effect of the danger was upon him. He had not spoken a
word, since the shark first made its appearance. As he struck
despairingly to gain the ship, from which the sailors were already
casting him ropes, his eye caught that of Ned, who cried to him
cheerily:

"Keep up your spirits, Tom. I will be with you."

As the huge fish swept along, at a distance of some four yards from
the side of the ship, and was already turning on its back, opening
its huge mouth to seize its victim, Ned dived head foremost from
the ship onto him. So great was the force and impetus with which he
struck the creature, that it was fairly driven sideways from its
course, missing by the nearest shave the leg of Tom Tressilis. Ned
himself was half stunned by the force with which his head had
struck the fish, for a shark is not so soft a creature to jump
against as he had imagined; however, he retained consciousness
enough to grasp at the fin of the shark, to which he held on for
half a minute.

By this time the shark was recovering from the effects of the
sudden blow, and Ned was beginning to be able to reflect. In a
moment he plunged the half pike deep into the creature's stomach.
Again and again he repeated the stroke; until the shark, rolling
over in his agony, and striking furiously with his tail, shook Ned
from his hold. He instantly dived beneath the water, and came up at
a short distance. The shark was still striking the water furiously,
the sailors on board were throwing down upon him shot, pieces of
iron, and all sorts of missiles, and some of the best archers were
hastily bringing their bows to the side.

The shark caught sight of his opponent, and instantly rushed at
him. Ned again dived, just before the creature reached him; and,
rising under him, inflicted some more stabs with the pike; then he
again swam off, for he was in no slight fear that he might be
struck by his friends on board ship, of whose missiles, indeed, he
was more in dread than of the shark himself.

When he rose, at a short distance from the shark, he was again
prepared for a rush on the part of his enemy; but the great fish
had now had enough of it. He was still striking the water, but his
movements were becoming slower, for he was weakened by the loss of
blood from the stabs he had received from below, and from the
arrows, many of which were now buried to the goose quill in him. In
a minute or two he gradually turned on one side, and floated, with
his white belly in the air.

A shout broke from the crew of the Swanne, and also of the Pacha,
who had been attracted to the side by the cries. When he saw that
the battle was over, and that the enemy had been vanquished without
loss of life, or hurt to any, Ned speedily seized one of the ropes,
and climbed up the side of the ship; where he was, you may be sure,
received with great cheering, and shouts of joy and approval.

"You are a fine lad," Captain John Drake said, "and your name of
Otter has indeed been well bestowed. You have saved the life of
your comrade; and I know that my old friend, Mr. Frank Tressilis,
his father, will feel indebted indeed to you, when he comes to
learn how gallantly you risked your life to preserve that of his
son."

Ned said that he saw no credit in the action, and that he was
mightily glad to have had an opportunity of learning to do that
which the negroes thought nothing of; for that it shamed him to
think that these heathens would venture their lives boldly against
sharks, while he, an English boy, although a good swimmer, and not,
he hoped, wanting in courage, was yet afraid to encounter these
fierce brutes.

This incident acted, as might be expected, as a fresh bond between
the boys; and as it also secured for Ned the cordial goodwill of
the sailors, they were, in future, free from any persecution at the
hands of Master Taunton, or of his fellows.




Chapter 4: An Unsuccessful Attack.



It should have been said, in its proper place, that upon the day
after the arrival of the Pacha and Swanne in Pheasant Bay, a barque
named the Isle of Wight, commanded by James Rause, with thirty men
on board, many of whom had sailed with Captain Drake upon his
previous voyages, came into the port; and there was great greeting
between the crews of the various ships. Captain Rause brought with
him a Spanish caravel, captured the day before; and a shallop also,
which he had taken at Cape Blanco. This was a welcome reinforcement,
for the crews of the two ships were but small for the purpose which
they had in hand, especially as it would be necessary to leave a
party to take charge of the vessels. Captain Drake made some proposals
to Captain Rause, which the latter accepted, and it was arranged that
he and his crew would be, for a time, under the command of Captain Drake.

When the division of the crews was made, it was decided that James
Rause should remain in command of the four ships at Pheasant Bay;
and that Captain Drake, with fifty-three of his own men and twenty
of Rause's, should start in the three pinnaces and the shallop for
Nombre de Dios.

The first point at which they stopped was the Isle of Pines, on the
22nd July. Here they put in to water the boats and, as the crews
had been cramped from their stay therein, Captain Drake decided to
give them a day on shore. Ned and Reuben Gale were of the party,
the other two being, to their great discontent, left behind in the
ship.

After the barriques had been filled with water, the fires lit for
cooking, and the labors of the day over, Ned and Reuben started for
a ramble in the island, which was of a goodly extent. When they had
proceeded some distance in the wood, picking fruit as they went,
and looking at the butterflies and bright birds, they were suddenly
seized and thrown upon the ground by some men, who sprang out from
the underwood through which they had passed. They were too
surprised at this sudden attack to utter even a cry; and, being
safely gagged and bound, they were lifted by their captors, and
carried away into the interior of the island.

After an hour's passage they were put down in the heart of a thick
grove of trees and, looking round, saw they were surrounded by a
large number of natives. One of these, a person evidently in
authority, spoke to them in a language which they did not
understand. They shook their heads, and after several times
attempting to make them comprehend, Ned caught the words Espanolos.

To this he vehemently shook his head in denial, which caused quite
an excitement among his hearers. One of the latter then said
"English," to which Ned and his companion nodded.

The news evidently filled the natives with great joy. The bands
were taken off the boys, and the Indians endeavored, by gestures,
to express the sorrow that they felt for having carried them off.
It was clear that they had taken them for Spaniards, and that they
had been watched as they wandered inland, and captured for the
purpose of learning the objects and force of the expedition. Now,
however, that their captors understood that the ships were English,
with great signs of pleasure they started with them for the
seashore.

It had already darkened when they arrived there, and the crews of
the boats jumped hastily to their feet, at the sight of so many
persons approaching. Ned, however, called to them just as they were
about to betake themselves to their arms, and shouted that the
natives were perfectly friendly, and well disposed. Captain Drake
himself now advanced, and entered into conversation with the leader
of the natives, in Spanish. It seemed that they had met before, and
that many, indeed, of the natives were acquainted with his person.
These were a party of Simeroons, as they were then called; i.e.,
of natives who had been made slaves by the Spaniards, and who had
now fled. They afterwards came to be called Cameroons, and are
mostly so spoken of in the books of English buccaneers. These men
were greatly pleased at the arrival of Captain Drake and his boats,
for their own had been destroyed, and they feared taking to the sea
in such as they could build.

After much talk, Captain Drake arranged to put them on shore, so
that they would go on to the Isthmus of Darien, where there were
more of them in the forests; and they promised to prepare these to
assist Captain Drake, when he should come there. The natives, some
thirty in number, were soon packed in the boats, and were ready to
cross to the mainland; and the party then going forward, entered
the port of Nombre de Dios at three in the morning.

As they sailed in, being yet a good way from the city, they came
upon a barque of some 60 tons. It was all unprepared for attack,
and the boats got alongside, and the crews climbed on to the deck
before their presence was discovered, or dreamt of. No resistance
whatever was offered by the Spaniards against the English. All
were, indeed, asleep below.

A search was made, and it was found that the ship was laden with
Canary wine, a circumstance which gave great pleasure to the
English, who looked forward to a long bout of good drinking. While
they were searching the ship, they had paid but little attention to
the Spanish crew. Presently, however, they heard the sound of oars
at some little distance from the ship.

"What is that?" said Captain Drake.

Ned ran to the stern of the vessel.

"I think, sir," he said, "that one or two of the Spaniards have got
off, with their boat. I saw it towing to the stern, when we
boarded."

Captain Drake leant over the side, and at once gave orders to one
of the boats whose crew had not boarded the vessel, and was lying
alongside, to pursue; and to strain every nerve to catch the boat,
before she came near the town. The sailors leapt to the oars, and
pulled with a will, for they knew as well as their captain how
serious a matter it would be, were the town alarmed; and indeed,
that all their toil and pains would be thrown away, as it was only
by surprise that so small a handful of men could possibly expect to
take a large and important town like Nombre de Dios.

Fortunately the boat overtook the fugitives before they were within
hailing distance of the town, and rapidly towed them back to the
ship. All then took their places in the pinnaces, and pushed off
without further delay. It was not yet light, and steered by one who
knew the town well, they rowed up alongside a battery, which
defended it, without the alarm being given. As they climbed up over
the wall the sentry fired his piece, and the artillerymen, who,
there having been some rumors of the arrival of Drake's fleet in
those waters, were sleeping by the side of their guns, sprang to
their feet and fled, as the English leapt down into the battery.
There were six large guns in the place, and many small, and
bombards.

"Now, my lads," Captain Drake said, "you must lose no time. In five
minutes, yonder artillerymen will have alarmed the whole town, and
we must be there before the Spaniards have managed to get their
sleepy eyes open.

"Advance in three parties, and meet in the marketplace. It is good
that we should make as much show as possible. There can be no more
concealment and, therefore, we must endeavor to make the Spaniards
believe that we are a far stronger force than, in truth, we are."

It was not until the three parties met in the marketplace that any
real resistance on the part of the Spaniards began, although
windows had been opened, and shots fired here and there. The alarm
bells were now ringing, shouts and screams were heard through the
town, and the whole population was becoming fairly aroused. As they
entered the marketplace, however, a heavy fire was opened with
arquebuses and guns. The English had taken with them no firearms,
but each man carried his bow and arrows, and with these they shot
fast and hard at the Spaniards, and silenced their fire.

At this moment, however, it happened, sadly for the success of the
enterprise, that a ball struck Captain Drake, and inflicted a
serious wound. Ned was standing near him, and observed him stagger.

"Are you hit, sir?" he asked anxiously.

"Tush, my boy," he replied, "it is a scratch; say nothing of it.

"Now, forward to the Treasury. The town is in your hands, my lads.
It only remains to you to sack as much treasure as you can carry;
but remember, do not lose your discipline, and keep together. If we
straggle, we are lost.

"Now, light at once the torches which you have brought with you,
and shout aloud to the inhabitants, you that can speak Spanish,
that if any more resistance is offered, we will burn the whole town
to the ground."

This threat mightily alarmed the inhabitants, and the firing ceased
altogether; for as these were not regular soldiers, and knew that
the object of the English attack was to plunder the public
treasuries, rather than private property, the townsmen readily
deemed it to their interest to hold aloof, rather than to bring
upon their city and themselves so grievous a calamity as that
threatened by the English.

In the advance, two or three Spaniards had fallen into the hands of
the men and, these being threatened with instant death if they
hesitated, at once led the way to the governor's house, where the
silver, brought down on mules from Panama, was stored. A party were
placed at the door of this building, and Captain Drake, with the
rest, entered.

The governor had fled, with his attendants. The house was richly
furnished; full of silk hangings, of vessels of gold and silver,
and of all kinds of beautiful things. These, however, attracted
little attention from the English, although Ned and his young
comrades marveled much. Never had they seen, in England, anything
approaching to the wealth and beauty of this furnishing. It seemed
to them, indeed, as if they had entered one of the houses of the
magicians and enchanters, of whom they had read in books during
their childhood.

Captain Drake, however, passed through these gorgeous rooms with
scarce a glance and, led by the Spaniards, descended some steps
into a vast cellar.

A cry of astonishment and admiration burst from the whole party, as
they entered this treasury. Here, piled up twelve feet high, lay a
mighty mass of bars of silver, carefully packed. This heap was no
less than 70 feet long and 10 feet wide, and the bars each weighed
from 35 to 40 pounds.

"My lads," Captain Drake said, "here is money enough to make us all
rich for our lives; but we must leave it for the present, and make
for the Treasury House, which is as full of gold and of precious
stones as this is of silver."

The men followed Captain Drake and his brother, feeling quite
astonished, and almost stupefied at the sight of this pile of
silver; but they felt, moreover, the impossibility of their
carrying off so vast a weight, unless the town were completely in
their hands.

This, indeed, was very far from being the case, for the whole town
was now rising. The troops, who had at the first panic fled, were
now being brought forward; and as the day lightened, the Spaniards,
sorely ashamed that so small a body of men should have made
themselves masters of so great and rich a city, were plucking up
heart and preparing to attack them.

Ill was it, then, for the success of the adventure, that Captain
Francis had suffered so heavy a wound in the marketplace. Up to
this time he had kept bravely on, and none except Ned, all being
full of the prospect of vast plunder, had noticed his pale face, or
seen the blood which streamed down from him, and marked every
footstep as he went; but nature could now do no more and, with his
body well nigh drained of all its blood, he suddenly fell down
fainting.

Great was the cry that rose from the men, as they saw the admiral
thus fall. Hastily gathering round him, they lifted his body from
the ground, and shuddered at seeing how great a pool of blood was
gathered where he had been standing. It seemed almost as if, with
the fall of their captain, the courage which had animated these
men, and would animate them again in fighting against ever so great
odds, had for the moment deserted them.

In spite of the orders of Captain John, that four or five should
carry his brother to the boats; and that the rest should seize,
without delay, the treasures of gold and diamonds in the Treasury,
and carry off as great a weight as they might bear, none paid
attention. They gathered round the body of Captain Francis and,
lifting him on their shoulders, they hurried to the boats, careless
of the promised treasures, and thinking only to escape, and bear
with them their beloved commander from the forces of the Spaniards;
who, as they saw the party fall back, with great shouting fell upon
them, shooting hotly.

The swoon of the admiral had lasted but a few moments. As cordial
was poured down his throat he opened his eyes and, seeing what the
men were minded to do, protested with all his force against their
retreat. His words, however, had no weight with them and, in spite
of his resistance, they carried him down to the battery; and there,
placing him in a pinnace, the whole took to their boats, and rowed
on board ship.

Wonderful to relate, although many were wounded, but one man, and
he Giles Taunton the armorer, was killed in this attack upon the
great city, in which they only missed making themselves masters of
one of the greatest treasures upon earth by the accident of their
commander fainting, at a critical moment, and to the men being
seized by an unaccountable panic. Some of the crew had, indeed,
carried off certain plunder, which they had snatched in passing
through the governor's house, and in such short searches as they
had been able to make in private dwellings; but the men, in
general, had been so struck with amazement and sorrow at the sight
of their general's wound, that although this wealth was virtually
at their mercy, they put off with him without casting a thought
upon what they were leaving behind.

The boats now rowed without pausing to the isle, which they called
the Isle of Victuals; and there they stayed two days, nursing their
wounds, and supporting themselves with poultry, of which there was
a great abundance found in the island, and with vegetables and
fruits from the gardens. There was great joy among them when it was
found that Captain Drake's wound, although severe enough, was yet
not likely to imperil his life; and that it was loss of blood,
alone, which had caused him to faint. At this news the men all took
heart, and rejoiced so exceedingly that a stranger would have
supposed that they had attained some great victory, rather than
have come out unsuccessful from an adventure which promised to make
each man wealthy.

Upon the second day after their arrival at the Isle of Victuals,
they saw a boat rowing out from the direction of Nombre de Dios. As
they knew that there was no fleet in that harbor which would
venture to attack them, the English had no fear of the approaching
boat; although, indeed, they wondered much what message could have
been sent them. On board the boat was an hidalgo, or Spanish noble,
who was rowed by four negroes. He said that he had come from the
mainland to make inquiries as to the gallant men who had performed
so great a feat, and that he cherished no malice, whatever, against
them. He wished to know whether the Captain Drake who commanded
them was the same who had been there before, and especially did he
inquire whether the arrows used by the English were poisoned; for,
he said, great fear and alarm reigned in the town, many believing
that all who had been struck by the English shafts would certainly
die.

Upon this head he was soon reassured; and the English were, indeed,
mightily indignant at its being supposed that they would use such
cowardly weapons as poisoned arrows.

Then the hidalgo inquired why the English had so suddenly retreated
from the town, when it was in their hands, and why they had
abstained from carrying off the three hundred and sixty tons of
silver which lay at the governor's house, and the still greater
value of gold in the treasure house--the gold, indeed, being far
more valuable than the silver, insomuch as it was more portable.
The answers to all these questions were freely given, for in those
days there was a curious mixture of peace and war, of desperate
violence and of great courtesy, between combatants; and whereas,
now, an enemy arriving with a view merely to obtain information
would be roughly treated, in those days he was courteously
entertained, and his questions as freely answered as if he had been
a friend and ally.

When he heard of the wound of Captain Drake he expressed great
sorrow; and, after many compliments were exchanged, he returned to
Nombre de Dios; while, the next day, Captain Drake and the English
rowed away to the Isle of Pines, where Captain Rause was remaining
in charge of the ships. He was mightily glad to see them return, as
were their comrades who had remained; for their long absence had
caused great fear and anxiety, as it was thought that Captain Drake
must have fallen into some ambuscade, and that ill had come to the
party.

Although there was some regret at the thought that the chance of
gaining such vast booty had been missed, yet the joy at the safe
return overpowered this feeling; and, for a day or two, the crews
feasted merrily and held festival. Captain Rause then determined to
continue the adventure no further, but to separate with his ship
and men from Captain Drake. He was of opinion, firmly, that now the
Spaniards had discovered their presence in the island, such
measures of defense would be taken, at every port, as to place
these beyond the hazard of attack by so small a body as those
carried by the three ships. He therefore, receiving full
satisfaction for the use of his men and for guarding the ships,
sailed away on the 7th August, leaving the Swanne and the Pacha to
proceed upon the adventure, alone.

Captain Drake sent his brother and Ellis Hickson to examine the
river Chagres; and on their return Captain Drake, with his two
ships and three pinnaces, sailed for Carthagena, where he arrived
on the 13th day of August. While on the voyage thither he captured
two Spanish ships, each of 240 tons, with rich cargoes, neither of
them striking so much as a blow in resistance.

At evening he anchored between the Island of Cara and Saint
Bernardo, and the three pinnaces entered the harbor of Carthagena.

Lying at the entrance they found a frigate, which in those days
meant a very small craft, not much larger than a rowing boat. She
had but one old man on board, who said that the rest of the company
had gone ashore, to fight a duel about a quarrel which they had had
overnight. He said, too, what was much more important to the
English--that, an hour before nightfall, a pinnace had passed him,
and that the man who was steering had shouted out that the English
were at hand, and that he had better up anchor and go into the
port. He said, moreover, that when the pinnace reached Carthagena
guns were fired, and he could see that all the shipping hauled in
under shelter of the castle.

This was bad news indeed, and there was much hard language among
the sailors, when they heard it. It was clear that the castle of
Carthagena, if prepared, was not to be carried by some thirty or
forty men, however gallant and determined they might be. There was,
too, but little hope that the old man had spoken falsely, for they
had themselves heard guns, shortly before their arrival there. With
much bitterness, it was determined to abandon the plan of attack;
and thus Carthagena, as well as Nombre de Dios, escaped from the
hands of the English.

They did not, however, go out empty handed; for they succeeded in
capturing, by boarding, four pinnaces, each laden with cargo; and
as they turned their heads to go out to sea, a great ship of
Seville came sailing in. Her they laid alongside and captured
easily, she having just arrived from Spain, having no thoughts of
meeting a foe, just as she reached her port of destination.

This lightened the hearts of the crew, and with their prizes in
tow, they sailed out in good spirits. The ship contained large
stores of goods from Spain, with sherries, and merchandise of every
kind. They went back to the Isle of Pines, their usual rendezvous,
and on adding up the goods that they had taken from various prizes,
found that, even now, they had made no bad thing of their voyage.

They were now much reduced in fighting strength by illness, and
Captain Drake determined in his mind that the crews were no longer
strong enough for the manning of two ships, and that it would be
better to take to one, alone. He knew, however, that even his
authority would not suffice to persuade the sailors to abandon one
of the vessels, for sailors have a great love for their ships. He
therefore determined to do it by a sudden stroke, and that known
only to himself and another. Therefore he called to him Thomas
Moore, the carpenter of the Swanne; and, taking him aside, told him
to make auger holes in the bottom of that ship. Moore, who was a
good sailor, made a great resistance to the orders; but upon the
admiral assuring him that it was necessary, for the success of the
enterprise, that one of the ships should be destroyed, he very
reluctantly undertook the task.

Previous to this Captain Drake had ordered all the booty, and a
considerable portion of the stores of both ships, to be hauled on
shore; so that they might lose nothing of value to them.

The next morning, Ned and his friends were sitting on the bulwark
of the vessel, watching the fish playing about in the depths of the
clear blue water.

"We seem to be lower in the water than usual," Ned said. "Does not
it seem to you that we are not so high above the sea as we are wont
to be?"

The others agreed that the vessel had that appearance; but as it
seemed clearly impossible that it should be so, especially when she
was lighter than usual, they thought that they must be mistaken,
and the subject was put aside. Half an hour later Captain Drake
himself, rowing alongside, called to his brother, who came to the
side.

"I am going to fish," he said; "are you disposed to come, also?"

Captain John expressed his willingness to do so.

"I will wait for you," his brother said.

Captain John was turning to go into his cabin to get his cap and
cloak, when Captain Francis cried out:

"Is not your ship very low in the water this morning?"

"The same as usual, I suppose," Captain John said, laughing; but
looking over the side himself, he said, "Methinks she does lie deep
in the water;" and, calling the carpenter, he bade him sound the
well.

The latter, after doing so, cried out loudly that there were four
feet of water in the ship.

A great astonishment seized upon both officers and crew, at this
unexpected news. All hands were at once set to work, the pumps were
rigged and, with buckets and all sorts of gear, they strove
manfully and hard to get rid of the water. It soon, however, became
plain that it entered faster than they could pump it forth, and
that the vessel must have sprung a bad leak.

When it was clear that the Swanne could not be saved, the boats of
the Pacha were brought alongside, and all the goods that remained
in her were removed, together with the arms and ammunition. Then
the crew, taking to the boats, lay by, until in a few minutes the
Swanne sank, among the tears of many of her crew, who had made
three voyages in her, and loved her well.

It was not, for a long time afterwards, known that the loss of this
ship was the effect of the orders of the admiral; who, indeed,
acted with his usual wisdom in keeping the matter secret; for
assuredly, although the men would have obeyed his orders, he would
have lost much favor and popularity among them, had the truth been
at that time known.

The next day the news was spread, among the men, that it was
determined to fill the Pacha with all the stores that were on
shore; and, leaving a party there with her, to embark the crews in
the pinnaces, for service in the river Chagres and along the coast;
until, at any rate, they could capture another ship to replace the
Swanne. Next day they rowed on into the Gulf of Darien. There the
ship was laid up in a good place, and they remained quiet for
fifteen days, amusing and refreshing themselves. By this means they
hoped to throw all the Spaniards off their guard, and to cause a
report to be spread that they had left the island.

The Simeroons living near had been warned, by those who had been
landed from the Isle of Pines, of their coming; and received them
with good cheer, and promised all aid that could be required. Then
the pinnaces were sent out, to catch any passing ships which might
be cruising along the coast.

It happened, one day, that two of them had set off in pursuit of a
great ship, which they saw passing in the distance. The wind was
light, and they had little doubt that they should overhaul her.
Ned, who was one of those who remained behind, was much angered at
missing so good an enterprise; but some four hours afterwards
another ship was seen to pass along.

The remaining pinnace was at once manned, Captain John Drake taking
the command; and, with fourteen men, she set out to take the
Spanish galleon. Gallant as are the exploits which have been
performed in modern times by British tars, in their attacks upon
slavers, yet in none of these cases does the disparity of force at
all approach that which often existed between the English boats and
the Spanish galleons; indeed, the only possible reason that can be
given, for the success of the English, is the fear that their enemy
entertained for them. Both the Spanish captains and crews had come
to look upon them as utterly invincible, and they seemed, when
attacked by the English buccaneers, altogether paralyzed.

As the boat rowed up towards the great ship, her size became
gradually more apparent, and her deck could be seen crowded with
men; even Ned, who was not greatly given to reflection, could not
but feel a passing doubt as to the possibility of one small boat,
with fourteen men, attacking a floating castle like this.

Presently the boom of a cannon from the forecastle of the vessel
was heard, and a ball whizzed over their heads; then shot after
shot was fired, and soon a rattle of small arms broke out, and the
water all round was cut up by bullets and balls. The rough seamen
cared little for this demonstration. With a cheer they bent their
backs to the oars and, although some were wounded, they rowed up to
the side of the ship without hesitation or doubt. Then from above a
shower of missiles were hurled upon them--darts, stones, hot water,
and even boiling tar.

It would have gone hard with the English, had not the Spanish
carelessly left a porthole open near the water level; through this
the English clambered, eager to get at their foe, and many of them
raging with the pain caused by the boiling materials. As they
rushed on to the deck, the Spaniards were ranged, in two ranks, on
either side of the hatchway; and fell upon them at once; but so
great was the fury of the English that, facing either way, with a
roar like beasts springing on their prey, they fell with axe and
sword upon the Spaniards.

It was the wild rage with which the English buccaneers fought that
was the secret of their success. The Spaniards are a people given
to ceremony, and even in matters of battle are somewhat formal and
pedantic. The combat, then, between them and the English, was one
which presented no familiar conditions to their minds. These rough
sailors, hardened by exposure, skilled in the use of arms, were no
doubt formidable enough, individually; but this alone would not
have intimidated the Spaniards, or have gone any great distance
towards equalizing the tremendous odds between them.

It was the fury with which they fought that was the secret of their
success. It was as when a cat, furious with passion, flies at a dog
many times larger and heavier than itself. The latter may be as
brave, in many matters, as the cat; and ready to face a creature
much larger even than itself, under ordinary circumstances. It is
the fury of the cat which appalls, and turns it into a very coward.

Thus, when the band of English fell upon the Spaniards in the
galleon--who were some six times as numerous as themselves--naked
to the waist, with hair streaming back, with all their faces wild
with pain, brandishing their heavy axes, and with a shout rushed
upon their foes drawn up in regular order; the latter, after a
moment or two of resistance, began rapidly to fall back. Their
officers, in vain, shouted to them to stand firm. In vain they
taunted them with falling back before a handful of men. In vain
even turned their swords against their own soldiers.

It was useless. Those in front, unable indeed to retreat, were cut
down by the heavy axes. Those behind recoiled, and after but a few
minutes' fighting, some began to leap down the hatchways; and
although the fight continued for a short time, isolated groups here
and there making resistance, the battle was virtually won in five
minutes after the English appeared on deck. The captain and his two
principal officers were killed, fighting bravely; and had their
efforts been in any way backed by those of their men, they would
have made short work of the assailants.

Captain Drake's voice was heard, high above the din, as soon as the
resistance ceased. He ordered the prisoners to be all brought upon
deck, and disarmed, and at once forced into their own boats, and
obliged to row away from the vessel; for he knew that, were his men
once to begin to plunder, and to fall upon the liquors, the
Spaniards, even if unarmed, would be able to rise and overpower
them.

No sooner was the last Spaniard out of the ship, than the men
scattered to look for plunder. Ned was standing on the poop,
watching the boats rowing away, and thinking to himself that, so
crowded were they, if a breeze were to spring up there would not be
much chance of their reaching Nombre de Dios. Suddenly he heard
below him a scream, followed by a splash; looking over, he saw the
head of a woman appear above the water, and without hesitation
dived at once from the side. For a moment the girl, for she was
little more, struggled with him as if she would have sunk; but Ned,
grasping her firmly, in a few strokes swam with her alongside the
ship to the boat; and two or three sailors, running down, assisted
him to pull her into it. Then, dripping wet, she was taken to the
deck, where the captain, in kind tones, assured her that she would
receive the most courteous treatment, and that she need be under no
fear, whatever.

She was the daughter of a wealthy Spaniard, at Nombre de Dios, and
was now coming out from Spain to join him. Frightened by the noise
of the fighting, and by the terrible reputation of the English
buccaneers, she had, when the sailors rushed into the cabin with
loud shouts, been so alarmed that she had jumped from the stern
windows into the sea.

Captain Drake assured her courteously that, rough as his men might
be, they would, none of them, lay a finger upon a woman. He then
hoisted a flag and fired a gun, as a signal to the Spanish boats,
which were yet within a quarter of a mile, to return. For a moment
they rowed on, but a ball, sent skimming across their bows, was a
hint which they could not disregard; for, full as they were of men,
they could not have hoped to avoid the English pinnace, should it
have put off after them.

When the boats came alongside, some of those on board were ordered
to ascend the side of the ship; and, plenty of accommodation having
been made, the young Spanish lady and her maid, who had remained in
the cabin, descended into the largest boat; handed down by Captain
Drake, with a courtesy equal to that which a Spanish hidalgo
himself would have shown.

Before she went, the young lady turned to Ned, who was standing
near, and expressed to him her deep thanks for the manner in which
he had leapt over for her. Ned himself could understand only a few
words, for although many of the sailors spoke Spanish, and
sometimes used it among themselves, he had not yet made any great
progress with it, although he had tried to pick up as many words
and phrases as he could. The captain, however, translated the words
to him; and he said to her, in reply, that there was nothing for
her to feel herself under any obligation to him for, for that any
dog would have jumped out and done the business, just as well.

The young lady, however, undid a bracelet of gold on her arm, and
insisted upon herself fastening it round Ned's wrist, an action
which caused blushes of confusion to crimson his face.

In a few minutes the Spanish boats were again off. The captain
added, to that in which the young lady was placed, some food, some
bottles of liqueur, and other matters which might render her voyage
easy and pleasant. He promised that the Spaniards who had been
transferred again to the ship should be landed, at the earliest
opportunity.

The vessel was now searched, regularly, and was found to contain
much treasure in goods; but as she was on her way from Europe, she
had, of course, none of the gold and silver which was the main
object of their search. However, they consoled themselves with the
thought that the ship which had been chased by their comrades,
earlier in the day, was homewards bound; and they hoped, therefore,
that a rich cargo would there be secured.

They were not mistaken, for when the ship sailed up to the
rendezvous they found another alongside, and the cheers of their
comrades told them that the prize had been a handsome one. They
found that they had secured nearly half a million in gold and
silver; and, transferring the cargo of the one ship into the other,
they set the first on fire, and sailed back to the spot where their
camp was formed, on the isthmus.

Several other ships fell into their hands in this way, but after
this they hindered no more vessels on their way from Europe. They
had ample stores and, indeed, far more than enough to supply them
with every luxury; for on board the Pacha the richest wines, the
most delicate conserves, the richest garments of all kinds were
already in such abundance as to become common to them all. Down to
the common sailor, all feasted on the best, and drank wines that an
emperor might have approved. Captain Drake, in this way, gave his
men when on shore much license; insisting, however, that they
should abstain from drunkenness. For, as he said, not only would
they be at the mercy of any small body of the enemy which might
find them, but drunkenness breeds quarrels and disputes, and as
between comrades would be fatal, indeed. Thus, although enough of
good liquor was given to each man to make him merry, none were
allowed to drink beyond this point.

The reason why the ships coming from Europe were allowed to pass,
unmolested, was that Drake wished not that, each day, some fresh
tale of capture should be brought to Panama by the crews set free
in the boats; for it was certain that the tale so told would, at
last, stir up such fear and indignation at the ravages committed by
so small a body, that the governors of the Spanish towns would
combine their forces, and would march against them with a veritable
army. While only the ships starting from Darien were overhauled,
and lightened of their contents, the tale was not brought back to
Darien; for the crews were allowed to sail on with their ships to
Europe, as Drake had already more vessels than he knew what to do
with; and as for prisoners, they were, to him, quite useless.

Captain John did, indeed, at one time propose to him that he should
take out of each ship all the principal men, so as to hold them as
hostages, in case of any misfortune happening to the English; but
the admiral said to him, that so great was the enmity and fear of
them, that did they fall into the hands of the Spaniards, these
would not exchange them and let them go, even if as many kings were
set free in return.

In all, five vessels were seized and plundered while lying at
Darien. All was not, however, going well; for while they lay there,
a terrible sickness broke out among them. Whether this was from the
change of life, or from any noxious thing which they ate, or merely
from the heat, none could say; but, very shortly, the illness made
great ravages among them. First died Charles Clift, one of the
quartermasters.

Then one day, when the pinnace in which Ned always sailed returned,
they were met with the sad news that Captain John Drake was also
dead. He had fallen, however, not by the fever, but by the ball of
the Spaniards. He had gone out with one of the pinnaces, and had
engaged a great Spanish ship; but the latter had shot more straight
and faster than usual, and the captain himself and Richard Allen,
one of his men, had been slain in an unsuccessful attempt to
capture the ship. His sad end was not the result of any rashness on
his part; for he, indeed, had told the men that the vessel carried
many guns, and that it was too rash an enterprise. The sailors,
however, had by this time become so accustomed to victory as to
despise the Dons altogether, and insisted upon going forward.

It was with bitter lamentation and regret that they returned,
bringing the body of the admiral's brother. They were now at the
end of the year, and in this week no less than six of the company
died, among whom was Joseph Drake, another of the admiral's
brothers. These losses saddened the crew greatly, and even the
treasures which they had amassed now seemed to them small, and of
little account. Even those who did not take the fever were much
cast down, and Captain Drake determined, without any further loss,
to attempt the expedition on which he had set his mind.

On February 3rd, being Shrove Tuesday, he started with eighteen
English and thirteen Simeroons for Panama. He had now, since he
sailed, lost no less than twenty-eight of the party which set out
from Plymouth.

In a few days they reached Venta Cruz, but one of the men, who had
taken too much strong liquor, made a noise; and the alarm being
given, much of the treasure was carried out of the place, before
they could effect a landing. They followed, however, one of the
treasure parties out of the town, and pursued them for some
distance. On their way they came across another large convoy, with
gold. This they easily took and, having sent the Spaniards away,
unloaded the mules and buried the gold, desiring to press on
further.

As they went, one of the chief Simeroons took the admiral apart
from the road they were traversing, and led him to the foot of a
lofty tree. Upon this steps had been cut, and the Indian told the
admiral to ascend, and see what he could observe from the top. Upon
reaching the summit, the admiral gave a shout of joy and
astonishment. From that point he could see the Pacific Ocean, and
by turning his head the Atlantic, which they had just left.

This was a joyful moment for the great sailor, and when he
descended, one by one most of the men climbed to the top of the
tree, to see the two oceans.

Drake was the first Englishman who had seen this sight. To the
Spaniards it was, of course, familiar; indeed, Vasco Nunez had
stood upon the spot and had seen the Pacific, and taken possession
of it, in the name of Spain, in the year 1513.

They now retraced their steps; for, with the force at their
disposal, Captain Drake thought it would be madness to cross the
isthmus, with any view of attacking the Spaniards on the other
side. He had now accomplished his purpose, and had learned the
nature and geography of the place; and proposed, on some future
occasion, to return with a force sufficient to carry out the great
enterprises on which he had set his mind.

On their return, they were sorely disappointed at finding that the
Spaniards, having captured one of the party, had extorted from him
the hiding place of the gold, and had lifted and carried it off.
They now prepared to re-embark in their pinnace. Reaching the
seashore, however, they were surprised, and in some way dismayed,
at seeing seven Spanish vessels nearing the coast. The Spaniards
had at last determined to make an effort, and had arrived at a time
more unfortunate for the English than could have been supposed. The
pinnace, after landing the party, had sailed away, in order to
prevent the Spaniards seizing upon those on board; and when Captain
Drake reached the shore she was not in sight, having indeed hauled
her wind, and made off, on the approach of the Spanish fleet.

The situation seemed bad, indeed, for it was certain that the
Spaniards would land their troops and search the shore; and it was
of the highest importance that the pinnace should be discovered
first.

There was a counsel held, and the men were well-nigh despairing.
Captain Drake, however, bade them keep up their courage, and
pointed out to them the four lads, all of whom had escaped the
effect of fever and disease, their constitution, no doubt, being
strengthened by the fact that none of them indulged in too much
liquor; indeed, seldom touching any.

"Look," said Captain Drake, "at these four lads. Their courage is
unshaken, and they look cheerful and hopeful on all occasions. Take
example from them, and keep up your hopes. I propose to make a raft
upon which I myself will embark, and by making out from this bay
into the open sea, may succeed in catching sight of the pinnace,
and bringing it hither to your rescue."

The proposal seemed a desperate one, for it was far more likely
that the Spaniards' ships would come along, and descry the raft,
than that the latter should meet with the pinnace. However, there
seemed no other resource. The materials for the raft were scanty
and weak; and when Captain Francis, with three companions, got
fairly out of the bay, the raft sank so deeply in the water that
they were completely standing in the sea.

For some hours they beat about; and then, to their great joy, they
descried the pinnace in the distance, making for land. The wind had
now risen, and it was blowing hard, and their position on the raft
was dangerous enough. They found that it would be impossible for
them to keep at sea, and still more impossible to place themselves
in the track of the pinnaces, which were making for a bay behind a
projecting headland.

Painfully paddling the raft to the shore, Captain Francis landed;
and they made their way, with much toil and fatigue, over the hill
which divided them from that bay; and, towards morning, got down to
the pinnace, where they were received with much joy. Then they at
once launched the boat, and made for the spot where they had left
their comrades. These received them as if risen from the dead, for
they had all made up their minds that their admiral, and his
companions, had been lost upon the frail raft on which they had
embarked.

They now put to sea, and had the good fortune to escape the ken of
the Spaniards, who had sailed further up the coast. So, thanking
God for their escape, they sailed back to the bay where the Pacha
and her prizes lay, and then all hands began to make great
preparation for return home.




Chapter 5: Cast Ashore.



It was time, indeed, for the little band of adventurers to be
turning their faces towards England. Their original strength, of
eighty men, was reduced to fifty; and of these, many were sick and
weak. They had gained a vast store of wealth, although they had
missed the plunder of Nombre de Dios and of Carthagena. Their
doings had caused such consternation and alarm that it was certain
that the Spaniards would, ere long, make a great and united effort
to crush them; and fifty men, however valiant, could not battle
with a fleet. The men were longing for home, looking forward to the
delight of spending the great share of prize money which would fall
to each. The sudden death which had stricken many of their comrades
had, too, cast a chill on the expedition, and made all long more
eagerly to be away from those beautiful, but deadly, shores.

When, therefore, on the day after the return of Captain Francis,
the word was given to prepare for the homeward voyage, the most
lively joy prevailed. The stores were embarked; the Simeroons, who
had done them good service, dismissed with rich presents; and all
embarked, with much joy and thankfulness that their labors and
dangers were overpast.

They were, however, extremely shorthanded, and were scattered among
the three or four prizes which were the best among the ships which
they had taken. Ned and Gerald, being now able to give good
assistance, in case of need, to the sailors, were put on board one
of the prizes with four seamen. Captain Drake had determined to
keep, for a time, the prizes with him; for as it might well be that
they should meet, upon their way, a great Spanish fleet, he thought
that by keeping together, with the flag of Saint George flying on
all the ships, the Spaniards would believe that the Pacha had been
joined by ships from England, and so would assuredly let her and
her consorts pass at large. At the last land at which they touched
Captain Drake intended to dismiss all but one of the prizes, and to
sail across the Atlantic with her and the Pacha.

This, however, was not to be.

One day, shortly after their departure, Ned said to Gerald:

"I do not like the look of the sky. It reminds me of the sky that
we had before that terrible hurricane, when we were moored off the
Isle of Pines; and with our scanty crew we should be in a mightily
unfavorable position, should the wind come on to blow."

In that wise the sailors shared Ned's apprehensions, and in the
speediest possible time all sail was lowered, and the ship prepared
to meet the gale. It was not long before the whole sky was covered
with black clouds. Captain Drake signaled to the vessels that each
was to do its best; and, if separated, was to rendezvous at the
spot before agreed upon. Then, all having been done that could be
thought of, they waited the bursting of the storm.

It came at last, with the suddenness and almost the force of an
explosion. A faint rumbling noise was first heard, a white line of
foam was seen in the distance; and then, with a roar and a crash,
the hurricane was upon them. The vessel reeled over so far under
the blow that, for a time, all on board thought that she would
capsize. The two sailors at the helm, however, held on sturdily;
and at last her head drifted off on the wind, and she flew along
before its force.

The sea rose as if by magic. Where, for weeks, scarcely a ripple
had ruffled the surface of the water; now great waves, with crested
tops, tore along. The air was full of blinding foam, swept from the
tops of the waves; and it was difficult for those on board even to
breathe, when facing the force of the wind.

"This is tremendous," Ned shouted in Gerald's ears, "and as there
seem to be islands all over these seas, if we go on at the rate we
are doing now, methinks that it will not be long before we land on
one or another. We are, as I reckon, near Hispaniola, but there is
no saying which way we may drift; for these storms are almost
always changeable, and while we are running south at present, an
hour hence we may be going in the opposite direction."

For twenty-four hours the storm continued, with unabated fury. At
times it seemed impossible that the vessel could live, so
tremendous were the seas which struck and buffeted her. However,
being light in the water, and buoyant, she floated over it. During
the next night the wind sensibly abated, and although still blowing
with tremendous force, there was evidence, to the accustomed eyes
of the sailors, that the storm was well-nigh blowing itself out.
The sea, too, sensibly went down, although still tremendous; and
all began to hope that they would weather the gale, when one of the
sailors, who had crawled forward to the bow, shouted:

"Breakers ahead!"

It was now, fortunately, morning; although the darkness had been so
intense, since the storm began, that the difference between night
and day was faint, indeed. Still it was better, if danger were to
be met with, that there should be as much light as possible.

All hands looked out over the bows and saw, before them, a steep
coast rising both to the right and left.

"It is all over with the ship," Gerald said to Ned, "and I do not
think that there is a chance, even for you. The surf on those rocks
is terrible."

"We must do our best," said Ned, "and trust in God. You keep close
to me, Gerald, and when you want aid I will assist you as far as I
can. You swim fairly, but scarce well enough, unaided, to get
through that surf yonder."

The men, seeing that what appeared to be certain destruction stared
them in the face, now shook hands all round; and then, commending
their souls to God, sat down and waited for the shock.

When it came, it was tremendous. The masts snapped at the board,
like rotten sticks. The vessel shivered from stem to stern and,
drawing back for an instant, was again cast down with terrible
force; and, as if struck by lightning, parted amidships, and then
seemed to fall all to pieces, like a house of cards.

Ned and Gerald were standing, hand in hand, when the vessel struck;
and as she went to pieces, and they were precipitated into the
water, Ned still kept close to his friend, swimming side by side
with him. They soon neared the edge of the line where the waves
broke upon the rocks. Then Ned shouted to Gerald to coast along,
outside the broken water; for that there was no landing there, with
life. For upwards of an hour they swam on, outside the line of
surf. The sea, although tremendously high, did not break till it
touched a certain point, and the lads rose and fell over the great
billows. They had stripped off the greater portion of their
clothing, before the ship struck; and in the warm water had no
sensation of chill, and had nothing to fight against, but fatigue.

When they were in the hollow of the waves their position was easy
enough, and they could make each other hear, by shouting loudly.
When, however, they were on the crest of one of the mountainous
waves, it was a hard struggle for life. The wind blew with such
fury, taking the top of the water off in sheets, and scattering it
in fine spray, that the boys were nearly drowned; although they
kept their back to the wind, and held their breath as if diving,
except when necessary to make a gasp for air.

Gerald became weak and tired, at the end of the hour; but Ned kept
up his courage, and aided him by swimming by his side, and letting
Gerald put his hand upon his shoulder, every time that they were in
the hollows of the waves, so that he got a complete rest at these
periods.

At last, Ned thought he saw a passage between two of the big rocks,
through which it might be possible, he thought, that they might
swim, and so avoid the certain death which seemed to await them at
every other spot.

The passage was about 40 feet wide, and it was no easy matter to
calculate upon striking this, in so wild a sea. Side by side with
Gerald, Ned made for the spot, and at last swam to the edge of the
surf. Then a great wave came rolling in, and the boys, dizzy and
confused, half smothered and choking, were hurled with tremendous
force, through the great rocks, into comparatively calm water
beyond. Ned now seized Gerald's hair, for his friend was nearly
gone; and, turning aside from the direct line of the entrance,
found himself speedily in calm water, behind the line of rocks. A
few minutes' further struggle and the two boys lay on the beach,
well-nigh insensible after their great exertions.

After a while they recovered their strength and, with staggering
feet, made their way further inland.

"I owe you my life, Ned," Gerald said. "I never could have
struggled ashore; nor, indeed, kept myself up for half that time,
had it not been for your aid."

"I am glad to have been able to help you," Ned said simply. "We may
thank heaven that the storm had abated a little, in its force,
before the vessel struck; for had it been blowing as it was
yesterday, we could not have swum five minutes. It was just the
lowering of the wind that enabled us to swim without being drowned
by the spray. It was bad enough, as it was, on the top of the
waves; but, yesterday, it would have been impossible."

One of the first thoughts of the boys, upon fairly recovering
themselves, was to kneel down and thank God for having preserved
their lives; and then, having rested for upwards of an hour, to
recover themselves, they made their way inland.

"Our dangers are by no means over, Gerald," Ned said. "If this
island is, as I believe, a thickly cultivated one, and in the hands
of the Spaniards, it will go hard with us, if they find us, after
all the damage to their commerce which we have been inflicting, for
the last year."

Upon getting to some rising ground, they saw, to their surprise, a
large town lying on a bay in front of them. Instinctively they
paused at the sight, and both sat down, so as to be out of view of
any casual lookers on.

"What are we to do, Ned?" Gerald said. "If we stay here, we shall
be starved. If we go into the town, we shall have our throats cut.
Which think you is the best?"

"I do not like either alternative," Ned said. "See, inland there
are many high mountains, and even close to the town there appear to
be thickets and woods. There are houses, here and there, and no
doubt plantations. It seems to me that if we get round to that side
we may conceal ourselves; and it is hard, in a country like this,
if we cannot, at any rate, find fruit enough to keep us for some
time. And we had better wait till dark. Our white shoulders will be
seen at too far a distance, by this light."

Creeping into a thicket, the lads lay down and were soon sound
asleep; and it was night before they awoke, and looked out. All
signs of the storm had passed. The moon was shining calmly, the
stars were brilliant, and seemed to hang like lamps in the sky, an
effect which is only seen in tropical climes.

There were lights in the town, and these served as a sort of guide
to them. Skirting along at the top of the basin in which the town
lay, they passed through cultivated estates, picking some ears of
maize; thus satisfying their hunger, which was, when they started,
ravenous; for, during the storm, they had been unable to open the
hatchways, and had been supported only by a little biscuit, which
happened to be in the caboose on deck.

Towards mor