A Raid through the Forest
Though Dennis had accepted Drake's offer on the spur of the moment, he
saw no reason to repent when he talked the matter over with Amos next
day. The rescue of their comrades on the island was indeed deferred;
but it was impossible to attempt that rescue without a suitable vessel
and a due equipment of men and stores; and since the men had plenty of
food on Maiden Isle, the delay of a few weeks would make no serious
difference to them, unless--and this possibility gave Dennis some
concern--they were molested by Spaniards. He hoped, however, that if
an enemy did appear on the island the men would have sufficient warning
to give them time to take refuge in the cave, where with good luck they
might remain concealed until the danger had passed.
Before the day was out Dennis had made acquaintance with the members of
the little company at Port Diego, as it had been called. From Ellis
Hixom, Drake's right-hand man, he learnt something of their adventures
since they left Plymouth in May, only a month after the _Maid Marian_
set sail. Early in July they had arrived at Port Pheasant, a secret
anchorage discovered by Drake on a former voyage, and so named by him
"by reason of the great store of those goodly fowls which he and his
company did daily kill and feed on in that place." On the 20th they
sailed for Nombre de Dios, and a week later made a night attack on that
unhealthy town, which once or twice in the year emerged into importance
when the galleons came there from Cartagena to take in their cargoes of
gold and silver sent for shipment by the governor of Panama.
The moon was rising as they stood in for the shore; but Drake, finding
that his men were full of superstitious terror of the night, persuaded
them that it was the dawn of day. They landed on the sands, beneath a
battery, and only a few yards from the houses which were built on the
shore, with the forest behind. The single sentry was slumbering, but
he was roused by the sound of their climbing up the redoubt, and fled
to give the alarm in the town. They spiked the six big guns in the
fort, but ere they had finished they heard the great bell of the town
church booming out; drums beat in the narrow street; it seemed that
there was warm work before the little band of fifty.
Drake divided his men into three parties; one of twelve to guard the
boats, the second of sixteen, with his brother John and John Oxnam, to
enter by the east gate of the market-place; while himself, with about a
score, would march in at the other end to the sound of drum and
trumpet, with torches glaring at the end of their pikes. He gave the
men orders to make all possible noise, so as to delude the garrison
into the belief that his force was stronger than it really was.
The market-place was crowded with a mob of mingled soldiers and
citizens when Drake and his men entered with great clatter from the
side nearest the sea. The intrepid band was met by a hot volley, to
which they replied with their calivers and a flight of arrows; then,
not waiting to reload, they charged with a fierce shout, to do the rest
of the business with pike and sword. As the same moment Oxnam and his
company dashed in at the other side with a great blast of trumpets.
The Spaniards, scared by the noise and the torches, still more by the
knowledge that El Draque was among them, did not stay to fight the
matter out, but flung down their weapons and rushed away in disorderly
flight along the road leading through the forest to Venta Cruz.
Drake re-formed his men, and, under the guidance of Spaniards he had
captured, made for the governor's house, where the mule trains from
Panama were unloaded. The door was wide open, and by the light of a
torch the Englishmen saw a vast pile of silver bars standing in the
passage. But Drake had learnt that in the King's treasure-house on the
eastern side lay a goodly store of gold and jewels, far more than they
could carry. Accordingly he would not allow the men to break their
ranks and despoil the governor, but led them back to the market-place
to prepare for the more serious work.
Meanwhile the men on guard at the beach, hearing the din, and seeing by
the light of the torches men running this way and that in the streets,
began to be alarmed, especially when they learnt from the negroes who
had joined them that the garrison had been newly strengthened. In
their panic they sent word to Drake that the pinnaces were in danger of
being taken. Drake had no sooner sent his brother and John Oxnam to
allay their fears and assure them that all was well when a terrific
thunder-storm burst upon them, wetting their bowstrings and the charges
of their guns. They ran for shelter to a shed at the western end of
the King's treasure-house, and there, while they repaired the damage,
the men began to mutter among themselves of the peril they were in, and
some talked of flight. As soon as the storm had ceased, Drake, seeing
that the adventure was in jeopardy unless he led the men to action,
ordered Oxnam to take a party to break open the treasure-house while he
held his ground in the market-place.
But, unknown to the men, he had been severely wounded in the leg at the
first onset, and fell faint from loss of blood. He perceived that some
of his men had already laden themselves with plunder from the houses
and booths in the market-place, and knew that they would be glad of any
excuse to get away to the boats. It was no longer possible to hide his
wound, and the men, seeing it, begged him to return to the boats, and
paid no heed to his entreaty that they would leave him to fend for
himself and possess themselves of the treasure so nearly within their
grasp. The possibility of losing their captain took all the heart out
of them. They carried him hastily down to the beach, got aboard the
boats, and shoved off just as dawn was breaking. It was a
disappointing end to the expedition; but only one man of them, a
trumpeter, had been killed, and they were all glad enough to get off so
lightly.
Since then they had cruised up and down the coast, capturing Spanish
vessels here and there, and making themselves a terror to the whole
Main. They had suffered many losses, by sickness and in fight; John
Drake had been killed in leading a mad attack on a frigate; but small
as the company was, every man was now cheerful in the expectation of
gaining great plunder in the approaching expedition to Panama. Dennis
and Turnpenny were welcome recruits, and none were more eager than they
to set off with the great captain, and go whithersoever he might lead.
[Illustration: Map to illustrate the adventures of Drake in 1572-73]
One day, about a week after their arrival at the camp, Drake called his
men together in council, and unfolded to them his daring plan. The
Spanish treasure fleet, he had learnt, had arrived at Nombre de Dios,
and was awaiting there the consignments of gold and jewels which were
brought by long mule trains across the isthmus from Panama. He
purposed to ambush one of these trains in a lonely spot on the north
road. Solemnly he placed before the men the dangers of the expedition.
They had a march of sixty miles before them, through poisonous jungles
and fever-haunted swamps. It was an enterprise for none but hardy and
courageous men, ready to endure labour and fatigue without murmuring.
Of his original company he had only forty-two left. Some of these were
sick, others were required to guard the ships; and when Drake had
weeded out the least fit of the rest, he had only eighteen Englishmen
for the adventure. To those he added thirty maroons, making a little
company of forty-eight all told. Dennis observed with admiration how
carefully all things were prepared. The men were provided with spare
boots, so that they might not go footsore and be troubled by the
jiggers of the jungles and the leeches of the swamps. The bows were
all re-fitted, the arrows and fire-arms cleaned and scoured; large
stores of dried meat and biscuit were packed in bundles; and bottles
were filled with wine and rum, for it was unsafe to drink the water of
the rivers.
It was a bright February day, Shrove Tuesday, when the adventurous band
set out, the ships in the harbour dipping their colours and the
trumpeters sounding "a loath to depart." The Englishmen carried
nothing but their weapons, the baggage being strapped to the shoulders
of the stalwart maroons. They marched in the coolest part of the
morning, from sun-rise to ten, when they paused for dinner. Soon after
noon they were afoot again, and at four halted for the night, the
maroons building for them with extraordinary rapidity little huts of
grass and palm-leaves, where they ate their supper over cheerful
wood-fires, beguiling the evening hours with song and talk. It was a
new life for Dennis, and full of strange charm. He spent many an hour
in the company of Drake and Oxnam, listening with a boyish admiration
to their talk, revelling in their tales of fight and adventure.
The great captain exercised a wonderful fascination upon him. Drake
was at this time little more than thirty years old, below the medium
height, but with brawny limbs and a broad chest. Brown hair clustered
close on a bullet-shaped head; his beard grew thick and strong; his
face was ruddy and pleasant to look upon; and the honesty of his soul
spoke out of his large, round blue eyes. His voice was clear and
musical, and he had a natural eloquence, set off by the burr of his
native speech. Nothing impressed Dennis more than to hear the Captain,
every night at sunset, recite the evening prayers and collects
bare-headed among his men assembled. "By Thy great mercy defend us
from all perils and dangers of this night"--there was something very
real and earnest in the petition, uttered in the shade of the forest
where wild animals dwelt, and in a country where every man was a foe.
There was no doubt about the reality of Drake's religion; and it was
part of his simple belief that he was chosen of God to scourge a
pestilent enemy of mankind.
The order of the march was the same every day. Four maroons led the
way, marking a trail by flinging broken branches or bundles of leaves
upon the ground. Then came twelve more maroons, followed at an
interval by Drake and his eighteen Englishmen, and two maroon chiefs.
The rear was brought up by the rest of the maroons.
After four days' tramping through swampy woods, much entangled with
undergrowth, steaming with heat and infected with noisome odours, they
entered a pleasanter country, where the trees grew larger, and with
branches so thickly interlaced that they were defended from the sun's
rays and found their path less obstructed by creeping plants. The
ground rose gradually, and Pedro, the maroon chief, told Drake that on
the summit of the ridge they were ascending, half way across the
isthmus, there grew an immense tree from which he could descry the
North Sea whence he had come and the South Sea whither he was going.
At ten o'clock on the eighth day of their march they came to the place,
and while the dinner was being got ready, Drake went with Pedro to the
tree of which he had spoken. Ascending big steps cut on the bole, they
reached, near the top, a pleasant thatched arbour, large enough to seat
a dozen men. The sky was clear; no haze blanketed the view; and
looking forth, Drake caught, thirty miles away, the sparkle of the
southern ocean on which no English boat had sailed. The soul of the
great mariner was strangely moved: he fell on his knees, and "besought
Almighty God of His goodness to give him life and leave to sail once in
an English ship on that sea." Then he called up Oxnam and others of
his company, and told them of his desire and prayer. Dennis never
forgot the scene in that shady bower at the tree-top: the kindling face
of the sturdy captain, his shining eyes, the fervency of his speech.
They went on again, and in two days more reached the wide savannah,
with grass as high as corn, and great herds of black cattle. Now and
then they got a glimpse of Panama, the city of their dream, and by and
by, when they were near enough to see the ships riding at anchor in the
roadstead, Drake called a halt: they had come within touch of danger
and must walk warily. Resting in a grove some three miles from the
city, Drake sent one of the maroons, dressed like a negro of Panama,
into it as a spy an hour before dark. He was to find out on what
night, and at what hour, the mule train set out with its precious
burden for Nombre de Dios. He had learnt from Pedro that the first
stage of the journey, from Panama to Venta Cruz, was always performed
by night, because by day the open plain was scorched by the sun. But
the second stage, from Venta Cruz to Nombre de Dios, was accomplished
by day, the road lying among cool shaded woods. It was clear that the
first stage offered the best chances of a successful ambush, and Drake
had resolved to intercept the treasure-train between Panama and Venta
Cruz.
The spy returned sooner than he was expected. From old acquaintances
in the city he had learnt that a train was to start that very night,
its departure being expedited because a Spanish hidalgo, the treasurer
of Lima, was in haste to reach a ship waiting at Nombre de Dios to
convey him to Spain. His train consisted of fourteen mules, of which
eight were laden with gold and one with jewels. Two other trains, of
fifty mules each, would follow, with provisions for the fleet and a
quantity of silver.
Within an hour of the receipt of this news, Drake and his men were
afoot on the road for Venta Cruz, some twelve miles away. Before
starting, the English men all put their shirts on outside their other
garments, so that they might have some means of telling friend from foe
in the darkness. When they had marched about half the distance, two of
the maroons, going ahead as scouts on the narrow track between long
grass, detected the smell of a burning match, and creeping stealthily
on, guided by the scent, and the now audible sound of snoring, came
upon a Spanish sentry fast asleep by the roadside. In a trice they
pounced on him; they stuffed a gag into his gaping mouth, put out his
match, tied his arms to his sides, and haled him back to the main body.
This danger removed, Drake divided his band into two companies. One of
these, under John Oxnam and Pedro the maroon, he stationed in long
grass fifty paces from the road; with the other he went to the same
distance on the other side, posting them so that, if it came to a
fight, their fire would not harm their comrades. He gave strict orders
that no man should stir from his post, but that all should maintain
perfect quiet, and, if any travellers should come from the direction of
Venta Cruz, that these were to be allowed to pass without molestation.
Dennis and Turnpenny were placed among Oxnam's party, and lay side by
side in the grass. The night was so dark, and the stalks so long, that
they could scarcely see each other, much less any other of their
company. For a time all was quiet; nothing was heard but the faint
critch of insects among the herbage. But by and by Dennis caught a
slight murmur from some point near at hand. He lifted his head to
listen. Yes, it was certainly a man mumbling. Then he heard a
glug-glug, as of liquid poured from a narrow-necked vessel, and
immediately afterwards a deep sigh of contentment. Again there was
silence; but after a while another glugging and another sigh.
"Begorz!" whispered Turnpenny, "'tis some bosky lubber a-puddling of
aqua vitae. St! Here be bells a-coming, on the neck of moyles, Ise
warrant. St!"
The sound came from the direction of Venta Cruz: evidently a train was
returning to Panama. Almost immediately afterwards there came a
fainter tinkle on the other side; the treasurer of Lima was on the
road, but he would not reach the ambush until the train from Venta Cruz
had passed.
Nearer came the sound, growing now into a loud clanging. Dennis held
his breath. The Venta Cruz party was to be allowed to pass; it would
meet the other travellers, and give them the word that all was well.
But what was this? Some one was rustling in the grass near him; some
one was moving forward; and, peeping up, Dennis saw an Englishman, as
he knew by his shirt, creeping towards the road through the long
stalks, and a maroon following.
At this moment his ears caught the sound of a horse trotting. He could
not see the road; the men who had gone through the grass were also out
of sight; but suddenly the trot changed into a gallop, and he heard the
horse clattering at a furious rate down the road. His heart gave a
jump; he felt a hot flush surge through him: the rider, whoever he was,
had been startled, and was now doubtless dashing on to warn the coming
train. Who could the fool be who had so flagrantly disobeyed the
captain's orders? Had he been so mad as to expose himself, in his
shirt over-all, to the view of the horseman? Turnpenny was as wrathful
as Dennis.
"Be jowned if I don't deal en a whap in the niddick," he whispered,
"as'll make en twine like an angle-twitch."
The sound of the hoofs died away, and Dennis expected that the clanging
of the bells would cease also, and all be brought to nought. To his
surprise there was no change: the bells drew nearer and nearer; now he
heard men's voices; and then, with a suddenness that made him jump, a
shrill whistle-blast rose high above all other sounds. It was the
signal for the attack. Dennis and the sailor rushed through the grass;
on all sides white-clad forms rose from their lurking-places and made
towards the road with a cheer. They sprang at the muleteers, toppled
them over, and without a shot fired the long line of mules was in the
raiders' hands.
With many a laugh and jest the sailors hauled the packs from the backs
of the mules and slit them with their hangers. But soon the mirth was
turned to melancholy.
"Od-rat-en, what have we here?" cried Turnpenny, lifting a soft mass on
the end of his weapon. "Bless my bones if it bean't a bunch of yokey
sheep's wool!"
"And here 'tis nought but dried meat as tough as leather."
"Ay, where be the goold, where be the goold?" cried Robert Pike,
breaking from the grasp of a maroon. "Cap'n said there was nugs o'
goold as big as goose-eggs, and be jowned if I can see a farden's
worth!"
"And the gewgaws for the rory-tory madams o' Spain--where be the
gewgaws?" cried another of the seamen. "Here, you codger"--seizing one
of the muleteers--"where be the gewgaws adiddled to?"
He shook the man till he gasped for breath, then hauled him before
Drake, who had come into the midst of the enraged sailors. He bade the
muleteer speak. The man told how the horseman, trotting by with a page
at his stirrup, had been startled to see a ghost-like figure rise out
of the grass at the side of the track, and galloped on to warn the
treasurer. Superstitious as the Spaniards were, they knew so much of
the daring of El Draque that the treasurer did not for a moment doubt
he had to deal, not with a ghost, but with a very real and substantial
enemy. The warning had reached him just in time. He drew his mules,
bearing the treasure, to the side of the road to allow the train of
merchandise to pass; the loss of food and wool could be endured
patiently if the gold and jewels were saved. Then, when the din ahead
confirmed his suspicions of an ambush, he turned the mules' heads back
towards Panama and slipped away.
Here was a pretty end to the adventure from which all had hoped so
much! Loud was the outcry against the wretched man whose rashness had
had so untoward an effect. While Drake took hurried counsel with Oxnam
and Pedro the maroon, the men went about growling, accusing each other,
threatening terrible punishment for the offender. Of them all none was
louder or more vehement than Robert Pike.
"An I catch the knave," he shouted, "Ise fulsh en, Ise thump en, Ise
larn en a thing or two as the wink-a-puss won't forget."
But as he spoke he lurched towards Amos, who caught him by the collar
as a sudden suspicion dawned.
"Be jowned if I don't b'lieve 'twas 'ee, Bob Pike! You hawk-a-mouth
knave, I smell 'ee, I do. You been puddling aqua vitae, dang my
buttons an you bean't. You bandy-legged piggish lubby, you, 'ee'll
fulsh en, will 'ee? and thump en, will 'ee? and larn the wink-a-puss a
thing or two, will 'ee? The Old Smoker take 'ee for a lubberly knave
and a jackass."
"And 'ee for a gabbing rant-a-come-scour!" retorted Pike, when he got
his breath. "What be 'ee jowering at me for? I only supped a little
small drop to keep me awake, and when I heard the moyles a-coming,
od-rabbit-en, thinks I, Ise nab the first; and when I got to the road,
'twas no moyle, but a fine horse and rider, and I rose up to see what
he was, and a knave maroon pulled me down and sat upon me like to
squeeze out my vitals, and so the villain Spaniard got away."
"You bosky knave, I'll----"
But what Turnpenny would have done remained untold, for at this moment
Drake called all the men together.
"'Tis no good crying over spilt milk, my lads," he said. "An we do not
shift for ourselves betimes, we shall have all the Spaniards of Panama
upon us pell mell. To go back the way we came is a four leagues march;
we all be wearied and for-done, and meseems 'twere better to go forward
two leagues into the forest. True, the town of Venta Cruz stands in
the way, but 'tis better, methinks, to encounter our enemies while we
have strength remaining than to be encountered and chased when we be
worn out with weariness. We will e'en eat our suppers while we may;
there be great store of meat and drink in the mule-packs; then will we
mount upon these beasts, so that we do not weary ourselves with
overmuch marching. And then, if God will, we will ding a blow at the
enemy for our honour; and mark 'ee, my lads, we are disappointed of a
most rich booty; but surely God would not that it should be taken, for
that, by all likelihood, it was well gotten by that treasurer, and not
by evil courses."
And, taking what comfort they could from their captain's explanation,
they set off on mule back as soon as supper was over, and came in an
hour to the woods a mile out of Venta Cruz. There they dismounted.
Drake bade the muleteers remain out of harm's way, and led the men over
a cobbled road ten feet broad, running between great walls of
vegetation.
Following his custom, Drake sent forward two of the faithful maroons to
reconnoitre. They came back with news that, half a mile farther on,
the enemy were hidden in the thickets; they had heard the rustle of
their movements and smelled the pungent smoke of their matches.
"Let no man fire till after the enemy hath dealt us a volley," said
Drake; "methinks they will first parley with us."
He led them quietly forward. A few minutes later a dark form appeared
on the darker road.
"Hoo!" came a voice.
"Halloo!" replied Drake.
"What nation are you?" called the man in Spanish.
"Englishmen."
"In the name of the King of Spain my master," cried the captain, "I
charge you to yield, avouching on the word of a gentleman soldier that
I will deal with you most courteously."
"Come on, my lads," quietly said Drake, taking a few quick steps
forward. Aloud he cried: "For the honour of the Queen of England, my
mistress, I must have passage this way."
At the same moment he fired his pistol. The Spaniards in ambush,
mistaking the shot for a signal from their own officer, poured in a
volley. Drake blew his whistle, and instantly his men sent a
spattering shower of bullets and arrows into the brushwood, following
it up with a charge. The Spaniards bolted like hares, and at Drake's
command the maroons of his party swarmed forward to cut the enemy off
from a stronger position in the rear, shouting their terrifying
war-cry, "Yo peho! Yo peho!" Back went the Spaniards, scurrying along
to the shelter of the town, the maroons leaping and dancing after them
as their manner was in war, the seamen not far behind, adding to the
uproar with English yells. Within a few yards of the town wall the
enemy attempted to rally, posting themselves across the road and in the
woods on both sides. But the maroons swept upon their flanks, Drake
and his men charged full at the centre. For a few moments the place
rang with the clash of sword and pike and the cries of the combatants.
Then as one man the Spaniards wheeled about and scampered through the
open gates of the town, with Drake's whole party at their heels. On
they went into the streets, seamen and maroons, thrusting and slashing
without pause or respite, yet strictly observing their captain's
injunction to spare women and unarmed men. In five minutes they were
masters of the town.
For little over an hour the men ran hither and thither, gathering what
spoils they could in the shape of articles easily carried. Then, just
as dawn was breaking, and they were snatching a hasty breakfast before
departing, a dozen horsemen dashed in at the Panama gate. Not until
they were within point-blank range of the musketeers whom Drake had
posted there did they perceive that the town was in the enemy's hands.
The sentries fired; half of the horsemen fell; the rest fled back
hastily into the forest. But Drake feared they were the advance guard
of a larger force. It was dangerous to delay. He whistled his men
together; and in a few minutes they marched out of the town with their
spoils, some little compensation for the lost treasure of the mule
train.
The toils and sufferings of that homeward march lived long in the
memories of Dennis and Turnpenny. Drake forced the pace unmercifully,
anxious to get back to his ship. Food ran short; he would not stay to
hunt wild hog or deer. Several of the men had been wounded; there was
no time to tend their wounds. Their clothes were torn to tatters;
their boots, even the extra pairs, had given way, and they were driven
to bind their feet with rags. The faithful maroons served them nobly,
carrying all the burdens, building huts for their rest at night,
bearing upon their shoulders some of the seamen who were too exhausted
and footsore to tramp any longer. A maroon went forward to warn the
waiting company of their approach. On the afternoon of the 23rd of
February, three weeks after they had started on the expedition, they
tottered out of the forest towards the beach, just as the pinnace, sent
by Ellis Hixom to take them off, scudded inshore. There on the
glistening sand the little company of men, haggard, worn-out,
half-famished, raised their husky voices in a psalm of thanksgiving,
praising God because they saw their pinnace and their fellows again.