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.