Upon making inquiries, Ned Hearne found that Captain Drake had,
upon the return of his expedition, set aside the shares of the
prize money of Gerald Summers, himself, and the men who were lost
in the wreck of the prize, in hopes that they would some day return
to claim them. Upon the evidence given by Gerald and himself of the
death of the others, their shares were paid, by the bankers at
Plymouth who had charge of them, to their families; while Ned and
Gerald received their portions.
Owing to the great mortality which had taken place among the crews,
each of the lads received a sum of nearly a thousand pounds, the
total capture amounting to a value of over a million of money. As
boys, they each received the half of a man's share. The officers,
of course, had received larger shares; and the merchants who had
lent money to get up the expedition gained large profits.
Ned thought, at first, of embarking his money in the purchase of a
share in a trading vessel, and of taking to that service; but,
hearing that Captain Drake intended to fit out another expedition,
he decided to wait for that event, and to make one more voyage to
the Spanish main, before determining on his future course. Having,
therefore, his time on his hands, he accepted the invitation of the
parents of his three boy friends, Tom Tressilis, Gerald Summers,
and Reuben Gail. He was most warmly welcomed, for both Tom and
Gerald declared that they owed their lives to him. He spent several
weeks at each of their homes, and then returned to Plymouth, where
he put himself into the hands of a retired master mariner, to learn
navigation and other matters connected with his profession, and
occupied his spare time in studying the usual branches of a
gentleman's education.
It was some months before Captain Francis returned from Ireland,
but when he did so, he at once began his preparations for his next
voyage. The expedition was to be on a larger scale than that in
which he had formerly embarked, for he had formed the resolve to
sail round Cape Horn, to coast along north to the Spanish
settlements upon the great ocean he had seen from the tree top in
the Isthmus of Darien; and then, if all went well, to sail still
further north, double the northern coasts of America, and to find
some short way by which English ships might reach the Pacific.
These projects were, however, known to but few, as it was
considered of the utmost importance to prevent them from being
noised abroad, lest they might come to the ears of the Spaniards,
and so put them upon their guard.
In spite of the great losses of men upon the former expedition, the
number of volunteers who came forward, directly Captain Drake's
intention to sail again to the Indies was known, was greatly in
excess of the requirements. All, however, who had sailed upon the
last voyage, and were willing again to venture, were enrolled, and
Captain Drake expressed a lively pleasure at meeting Ned Hearne and
Gerald Summers, whom he had given up as lost.
The expenses of the expedition were defrayed partly from the funds
of Captain Drake and his officers, partly by moneys subscribed by
merchants and others who took shares in the speculation. These were
termed adventurers. Ned embarked five hundred pounds of his prize
money in the venture, as did each of his three friends.
He was now nineteen, and a broad, strongly-built young fellow. His
friends were all somewhat older, and all four were entered by
Captain Francis as men, and ranked as "gentlemen adventurers," and
would therefore receive their full share of prize money.
On the 12th of November, 1577, the fleet sailed out of Plymouth
Sound amid the salutes of the guns of the fort there. It consisted
of five ships: the Pelican, of 100 tons, the flagship, commanded by
Captain General Francis Drake; the Elizabeth, 80 tons, Captain John
Winter; the Marigold, a barque of 30 tons, Captain John Thomas; the
Swan, a flyboat of 50 tons, Captain John Chester; and the
Christopher, a pinnace of 15 tons, Captain Thomas Moore.
The voyage began unfortunately, for, meeting a headwind, they were
forced to put into Falmouth, where a tempest ill-treated them
sorely. Some of the ships had to cut away their masts, and the
whole were obliged to put back into Plymouth, to refit, entering
the harbor in a very different state to that in which they had left
it, a fortnight before. Every exertion was made and, after a few
days' delay, the fleet again set sail.
They carried an abundance of stores, of all kinds, together with
large quantities of fancy articles, as presents for the savage
people whom they might meet in their voyaging. The second start was
more prosperous than the first and, after touching at various
points on the west coast of Africa, they shaped their way to the
mouth of the La Plata, sailing through the Cape de Verde Islands,
where their appearance caused no slight consternation among the
Portuguese. However, as they had more important objects in view,
they did not stop to molest any of the principal towns, only
landing at quiet bays to procure a fresh supply of water, and to
obtain fruit and vegetables, which in those days, when ships only
carried salt provisions, were absolutely necessary to preserve the
crews in health. All were charmed with the beauty and fertility of
these islands, which were veritable gardens of tropical fruits, and
they left these seas with regret.
The fleet reached the La Plata in safety, but made no long stay
there; for the extreme shallowness of the water, and the frequency
and abundance of the shoals in the river, made the admiral fear for
the safety of his ships; and accordingly, after a few days' rest,
the anchors were weighed and the fleet proceeded down the coast.
For some time they sailed without adventure, save that once or
twice, in the storms they encountered, one or other of the ships
were separated from the rest.
After several weeks' sailing, they put into the Bay of Saint
Julian, on the coast of Patagonia. Here the crews landed to obtain
water. Soon the natives came down to meet them. These were tall,
active men, but yet far from being the giants which the Spaniards
had represented them, few of them being taller than a tall
Englishman. They were dressed in the scantiest clothing--the men
wearing a short apron made of skin, with another skin as a mantle
over one shoulder; the women wearing a kind of petticoat, made of
soft skin. The men carried bows and arrows and spears, and were
painted strangely--one half the head and body being painted white,
the other black. Their demeanor was perfectly friendly, and Captain
Drake, fearing no harm, walked some distance inland, and many of
those not engaged in getting water into the boats also strolled
away from the shore.
Among those who rambled farthest were Ned and Tom Tressilis,
together with another gentleman adventurer, named Arbuckle. When
they left Captain Francis, the armorer, who had brought a bow on
shore with him, was showing the natives how much farther our
English bow could carry than the native weapon.
Wondering what the country was like beyond the hills, the little
party ascended the slope. Just as they reached the top, they heard
a shout. Looking back, they saw that all was confusion.
The string of the armorer's bow had snapped, and the natives,
knowing nothing of guns, believed that the party were now unarmed.
As the armorer was restringing his bow, one of the natives shot an
arrow at him, and he fell, mortally wounded. One standing near now
raised his arquebus; but before he could fire, he too was pierced
by two arrows, and fell dead. The admiral himself caught up the
arquebus, and shot the man who had first fired.
The little party on the hill had been struck with amazement and
consternation at the sudden outburst, and were recalled to a sense
of their danger by the whiz of an arrow, which struck Master
Arbuckle in the heart; and at the same moment a dozen of the
savages made their appearance, from among the trees below them.
Seeing the deadliness of their aim, and that he and Tom would be
shot down at once, before they could get to close quarters, Ned
turned to fly.
"Quick, Tom, for your life!"
Fortunately, they stood on the very top of the ascent, so that a
single bound backwards took them out of sight and range of their
enemies. There was a wood a few hundred yards inland, apparently of
great extent, and towards this the lads ran at the top of their
speed. The savages had to climb the hill and, when they reached its
crest, the fugitives were out of bow-shot range.
A yell broke from them as they saw the lads, but these had made the
best use of their time, and reached the wood some two hundred yards
ahead of their pursuers. Ned dashed into the undergrowth and tore
his way through it, Tom close at his heels. Sometimes they came to
open spaces, and here each time Ned changed the direction of their
flight, choosing spots where they could take to the underwood
without showing any sign, such as broken boughs, of their entrance.
After an hour's running the yells and shouts, which had at first
seemed close behind, gradually lessened, and were now but faintly
heard. Then, utterly exhausted, the lads threw themselves on the
ground. In a few minutes, however, Ned rose again.
"Come, Tom," he said, "we must keep on. These fellows will trace us
with the sagacity of dogs; but, clever as they may be, it takes
time to follow a track. We must keep on now. When it gets dark,
which will be in another hour or so, they will be able to follow us
no longer, and then we can take it easily."
"Do as you think best, Ned. You are accustomed to this kind of
thing."
Without another word they started off at a run again, keeping as
nearly as they could a straight course; for Ned's experience in
forest life enabled him to do this, when one unused to woodcraft
would have lost all idea of direction. The fact, however, that the
mosses grew on the side of the trees looking east, was guide enough
for him; for he knew that the warm breezes from the sea would
attract them, while the colder inland winds would have an opposite
effect.
Just as it was getting dark they emerged from the wood, and could
see, stretching far before them, an undulating and almost treeless
country.
"Fortunately there has been no rain for some time, and the ground
is as hard as iron," Ned said. "On the damp soil under the trees
they will track our steps, but we shall leave no marks here; and in
the morning, when they trace us to this spot, they will be at
fault."
So saying, he struck off across the country. For some hours they
walked, the moon being high and enabling them to make their way
without difficulty. At last they came upon a clump of bushes, and
here Ned proposed a halt. Tom was perfectly ready, for they had now
walked and run for many hours, and both were thoroughly fatigued;
for after so long a voyage, in a small ship, they were out of
condition for a long journey on foot.
"The first thing to do is to light a fire," Ned said; "for it is
bitterly cold."
"But how do you mean to light it?"
"I have flint and steel in my pouch," Ned said, "and a flask of
powder, for priming my pistols, in my sash here. It is a pity,
indeed, we did not put our pistols into our belts when we came
ashore. But even if I had not had the flint and steel, I could have
made a fire by rubbing two dead sticks together. You forget, I have
lived among savages for a year."
"You don't think that it is dangerous to light a fire?"
"Not in the least. It was dark when we left the wood, and they must
have halted on our track, far back among the trees, to follow it up
by daylight. Besides, we have walked five hours since then, and
must be twenty miles away, and we have crossed five or six hills.
Find a few dead sticks and I will pull a handful or two of dried
grass. We will soon have a fire."
Ned made a little pile of dried grass, scooped out a slight
depression at the top, and placed a dead leaf in it. On this he
poured a few grains of powder, added a few blades of dried grass,
and then set to work with his flint and steel. After a blow or two,
a spark fell into the powder. It blazed up, igniting the blades of
grass and the leaf, and in a minute the little pile was in a blaze.
Dried twigs, and then larger sticks were added, and soon a bright
fire burned up.
"Throw on some of the green bush," Ned said. "We do not want a
blaze, for although we have thrown out the fellows in pursuit of
us, there may be others about."
"And now, Ned," Tom said, after sitting for some time gazing into
the red fire, "what on earth are we to do next?"
"That is a question more easily asked than answered," Ned said,
cheerfully. "We have saved our skins for the present, now we have
got to think out what is the best course to pursue."
"I don't see any way to get back to the ship," Tom said, after a
long pause. "Do you?"
"No," Ned replied. "I don't, Tom. These savages know that they have
cut us off, and will be on the watch, you may be sure. They shoot
so straight, with those little bows and arrows of theirs, that we
should be killed without the least chance of ever getting to close
quarters. Besides, the admiral will doubtless believe that we have
been slain, and will sail away. We may be sure that he beat off the
fellows who were attacking him, but they will all take to the
woods, and he would never be able to get any distance among the
trees. Besides, he would give up all hope of finding us there. As
to our getting back through the wood, swarming with savages, it
seems to me hopeless."
"Then whatever is to become of us?" Tom asked, hopelessly.
"Well, the lookout is not bright," Ned said thoughtfully, "but
there is a chance for us. We may keep ourselves by killing wild
animals, and by pushing inland we may come upon some people less
treacherous and bloody than those savages by the seashore. If so,
we might hunt and live with them."
Tom groaned.
"I am not sure that I would not rather be killed at once, than go
on living like a savage."
"The life is not such a bad one," Ned said. "I tried it once, and
although the negroes and Indians of Porto Rico were certainly a
very different people to these savages, still the life led on these
great plains and hills, abounding with game, is more lively than
being cooped up in a wood, as I was then. Besides, I don't mean
that we should be here always. I propose that we try and cross the
continent. It is not so very wide here, and we are nearly in a line
with Lima. The admiral means to go on there, and expects a rich
booty. He may be months before he gets round the Horn, and if we
could manage to be there when he arrives, we should be rescued. If
not, and I own that I have not much hope of it, we could at least
go down to Lima some time or other. I can talk Spanish now very
fairly, and we shall have such a lot of adventures to tell that,
even if they do not take us for Spanish sailors, as we can try to
feign, they will not be likely to put us to death. They would do so
if we were taken in arms as buccaneers; but, coming in peaceably,
we might be kindly treated. At any rate, if we get on well with the
Indians we shall have the choice of making, some day or other, for
the Spanish settlements on the west coast; but that is all in the
distance. The first thing will be to get our living, somehow; the
second to get further inland; the third to make friends with the
first band of natives we meet. And now, the best thing to do is to
go off to sleep. I shall not be many minutes, I can tell you."
Strange as was the situation, and many the perils that threatened
them, both were in a few minutes fast asleep. The sun was rising
above the hills when, with a start, they awoke and at once sprang
to their feet, and instinctively looked round in search of
approaching danger. All was, however, quiet. Some herds of deer
grazed in the distance, but no other living creature was visible.
Then they turned their eyes upon each other, and burst into a
simultaneous shout of laughter. Their clothes were torn literally
into rags, by the bushes through which they had forced their way;
while their faces were scratched, and stained with blood, from the
same cause.
"The first thing to be done," Ned said, when the laugh was over,
"is to look for a couple of long springy saplings, and to make bows
and arrows. Of course they will not carry far, but we might knock
down any small game we come across."
Both lads were good shots with a bow, for in those days, although
firearms were coming in, all Englishmen were still trained in the
use of the bow.
"But what about strings?" Tom asked.
"I will cut four thin strips from my belt," Ned said. "Each pair,
tied together, will make a string for a five-foot bow, and will be
fully strong enough for any weapon we shall be able to make."
After an hour's walk, they came to a small grove of trees growing
in a hollow. These were of several species and, trying the
branches, they found one kind which was at once strong and
flexible. With their hangers, or short swords, they cut down a
small sapling of some four inches in diameter, split it up, pared
each half down, and manufactured two bows; which were rough,
indeed, but sufficiently strong to send an arrow a considerable
distance. They then made each a dozen shafts, pointed and notched
them. Without feathers, or metal points, these could not fly
straight to any distance; but they had no thought of long-range
shooting.
"Now," Ned said, "we will go back to that bare space of rock we
passed, a hundred yards back. There were dozens of little lizards
running about there, it will be hard if we cannot knock some over."
"Are they good to eat?" Tom asked.
"I have no doubt they are," Ned said. "As a rule, everything is
more or less good to eat. Some things may be nicer than others, but
hardly anything is poisonous. I have eaten snakes, over and over
again, and very good they are. I have been keeping a lookout for
them, ever since we started this morning."
When they reached the rock, the lizards all darted off to their
cracks and crevices; but Ned and Tom lay down, with their bows bent
and arrows in place, and waited quietly. Ere long the lizards
popped up their heads again, and began to move about, and the lads
now let fly their arrows. Sometimes they hit, sometimes missed, and
each shot was followed by the disappearance of the lizards; but
with patience they found, by the end of an hour, that they had shot
a dozen, which was sufficient for an ample meal for them.
"How will you cook them, Ned?"
"Skin them as if they were eels, and then roast them on a stick."
"I am more thirsty than hungry," Tom said.
"Yes, and from the look of the country, water must be scarce.
However, as long as we can shoot lizards and birds, we can drink
their blood."
The fire was soon lighted, and the lizards cooked. They tasted like
little birds, their flesh being tender and sweet.
"Now we had better be proceeding," Ned said, when they had finished
their meal. "We have an unknown country to explore and, if we ever
get across, we shall have materials for yarns for the rest of our
lives."
"Well, Ned, I must say you are a capital fellow to get into a
scrape with. You got Gerald and me out of one, and if anyone could
get through this, I am sure you could do so. Gerald told me that he
always relied upon you, and found you always right. You may be sure
that I will do the same. So I appoint you captain general of this
expedition, and promise to obey all orders, unquestioningly."
"Well, my first order is," Ned said, laughing, "that we each make a
good pike. The wood we made our bows from will do capitally, and we
can harden the points in the fire. We may meet some wild beasts,
and a good, strong six-foot pike would be better than our swords."
Two hours' work completed the new weapons, and with their bows
slung at their backs, and using their pikes as walking staves,
they again set out on their journey across the continent.