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.