by Tom Bevan
Chapter XIX.
PAIGNTON ROB'S STORY.
The three broken sailor men attacked the ample venison pasty with azeal and thoroughness that betokened long abstention from work of asimilar nature, and the sack trickled gratefully down parched throats.Morgan and Jeffreys drank to their better fortune, but would not touchthe food, pleading that their ordinary dinner time was a full hour off,and that they were pledged to make havoc of some pastries made by acertain young gentlewoman, who would undoubtedly be much grieved ifthey did not eat as heartily as was their wont. So the Paignton manand his Plymouth comrades shared the pie amongst themselves, the twoothers looking about and noting the other occupants of the inn parlour.Some of these were known by repute to Jeffreys, and he gave Morganinformation concerning them.
The pie-dish stood empty. Johnnie expressed an opinion that appleswere roasting somewhere. Nick Johnson sniffed the air, and promptlyagreed with him, adding that the fragrance of roasting apples awokememories of far-off Devon. Whereupon the forester remarked that theyhad a like effect upon him, and that he was minded to have a dish witha little cream, if all the company would join him. There was noobjector, and each man was soon busy with hot apples and cream. Afterthis Jeffreys ordered fresh flagons of wine, and asked Paignton Rob forhis story.
"Will Master Morgan care for the recital?" queried Rob.
"My ears are burning," cried Johnnie. "I seem to have strolled out ofChepe this morning right into America. Stint not a word of thy storyif thou hast any desire to please me."
"So be it, friends. I cannot but wish that some other man had thetelling of it. You will remember--at least thou wilt, Timothy--howCaptain John Oxenham sailed out from Plymouth with the _Hawk_, onehundred and forty ton barque, and a crew of seventy men, for theSpanish Main?"
"Ay; report says that all were slain by fever and the Indians."
"Therein doth report speak falsely. We three went with Oxenham, and wesit here to-day to tell the tale. Whether any other tongue hath toldit I cannot say. There is scant hope of any more survivors. Well, tothe story itself. We went out of Plymouth Sound, threescore and ten,men and boys, well armed and victualled for six months. We turned ourprow westwards, prepared like good adventurers to take what fortune theseas might bring us. The voyage proved a speedy one, with a singularlack of ungentle weather: good omen, we thought, for the success of ourenterprise. On the way our captain's plans, which had been somewhatuncertain at the first, took fixed shape. We passed south of the mainisles of the Indies, steering for the eastern seaboard of the Isthmusof Panama. We cast along the shore for two days seeking an anchorage,and we found what we sought in a wooded creek, fringed and throngedwith islets. A winding river emptied into the creek, and the bankswere so thickly clothed with forest as almost to shut out the light ofthe sun. Dismasting our ship, we thrust her into a tiny bay o'erhungby giant trees, and neither from river nor bank could a glimpse of herbe obtained. For a day we worked, making all snug aboard; then weloaded ourselves with provisions and arms, and set out to cross theisthmus to Panama itself, intending to rob the Spanish nest of thegolden eggs that daily were laid therein.
"There is little to tell of the story of our march to the Pacific. Wecut our way for days at a time through woods that were well-nighimpassable. We climbed mountains, threaded defiles, waded throughstream and swamp. Our backs bent beneath the weight of our burdens;giant thorns tore, first our clothes, then afterwards our flesh. Thesun roasted us by day; mists enwreathed and chilled us by night; amyriad insects bit us, and roaring beasts and lurking reptiles harassedour steps. Some of us were quickly down with fever, and added to theburdens of our comrades, for they bore us upon rude litters of boughs.Oxenham fought shy of the native villages, not being minded to giverumour the chance to herald our approach to the golden goal we sought.
"By good hap we came upon a stream at the foot of some hills, flowingwestwards. We followed it for a while, until we felt assured that itwas navigable, and also that it emptied itself into the Pacific. Thenwe halted, built huts for our sick, cut down timber and set about themaking of a stout pinnace that would carry us on the rest of our quest.We also scoured the woods for game and fruits, and harvested the watersfor fish. When our boat was builded, our sick were also upon theirfeet again. We had brought with us three light cannon; these wemounted on our little craft, rigged up mast and sail, and went down theswift current, westward ho! once more.
"It was no longer possible to avoid the native towns and villages, soat the first we engaged a guide who knew enough of coast Spanish tounderstand our wants and be our interpreter to his friends. We foundthat the Indians hated the Spaniards and dreaded their rapacity andcruelty. As Englishmen and foes of Spain, we always got a welcome; andOxenham had wit enough to be kind, courteous, and generous, and so wina welcome for us for our own sakes. Our voyage down the river was asort of triumphal progress, and we made ten thousand faithful allies.At last came the day when the river broadened to an estuary; when wesaw the tide marks along the roots of the mangroves, and the saltflavour was in the air, and white-winged gulls swept screaming over ourheads, scaring away the gaudy, noisy parrots that had been ourfeathered companions for so long. The next morning the sun shot up forus, a golden ball of cheering presage, from out the glittering bosom ofthe Pacific. What a shout we raised! Weeks of toil and fever wereforgotten, scars and bruises healed--or were felt no longer--when theglorious heave of ocean waters lifted our keel!"
Paignton Rob paused and lifted his flagon to his lips. He put it downreflectively. "Do ye mind that morn, comrades?" he asked.
"Shall we ever forget it!" exclaimed the two Plymouth men in a breath.The company nodded to Rob, and took a friendly sip of sack in hishonour. He took up again the thread of his story.
"A native that had come down the coast from the direction of Panamacame to our captain with information that two treasure-ships wereexpected from Peru, and he offered to be our guide to the Isle ofPearls, situated about five-and-twenty leagues from Panama itself, andin the direct line of sailing to the city. We accepted his offergladly, and the fellow led us to a snug anchorage whence we could espyour prey and make ready to sally forth and seize him.
"We lay under the island for one night and the better part of a daybefore our lookout in a tree-top at the edge of a steep cliff sang out,'Sail ho! Spanish rig!' We were alert on the instant, watching theSpaniard bowling north-eastwards before a stiff breeze. At the rightmoment we slipped our cable, hoisted sail, and stood out to sea rightin his path. No news of our presence on the isthmus had got abroad,and the foe did not suspect us until he was within range of our smallguns, when we promptly sent a couple of shots splintering into hisbulwarks. He was not long before he swung round and replied. But wewere too low in the water to be in any danger from his bigger pieces,and in a little while we were under his lee and swarming aboard. For afew minutes there was as pretty a fight as man could wish for; then theSpaniard struck his flag and threw down his weapons.
"Well, we rifled cabins and holds; got about a hundred goodly bars ofgold and a chest of pearls. The cabin gave us an excellent supply ofwine and some curious golden images of native workmanship. We helpedourselves also to some better clothing, then let the Spaniard go hisway.
"For two more days we hung about the island, then seized a ship with acargo, mostly of silver bars. Our pinnace was now so heavily ladenthat we durst not venture to put anything more aboard her. We wererich enough already, and, knowing that the authorities at Panama wouldsoon hear of our exploits, we turned south to our river again, and setout on our journey back to our hidden ship and the Atlantic.
"So far we had lost but two men, and one of these had died from fever.Half a score of us, maybe, had received wounds. The Spanish dogs willnot fight much on a ship's deck, and the silver galleon offered ushardly any resistance. 'Tis easy work enough, this gathering ofSpanish gold in the Indies. Do I speak within the strict bounds oftruth, comrades?"
"Tru
e as a Bible verse, Rob," said Nick Johnson; and brother Nedassented with a seaman's "Ay! ay!"
Rob took advantage of the pause to take another peep into his flagon,and Johnnie asked him if he could see bottom.
"Depth enough to float my barque a little longer," replied Rob.
"We did not waste much time feasting or merrymaking with our Indianallies; we just stayed long enough for civility and the procuring of acouple of canoes and rowers to ease the burden in our pinnace. Then weset off up-stream. An under-chief came with us, and he was to obtaincarriers for our booty and provisions at the last village before weshould be forced to quit the river and take to the forests andmountains. But we did not get along so quickly as we purposed at thefirst. News of our victories over the detested Dons had spread like afire through the isthmus. Chiefs came to palaver, offer gifts, and suefor our protection. The whole land wanted to shelter beneath thebanner of St. George, and our eastward voyage was a sort of triumphalprocession. This was all very pleasant, but 'twas dallying withdanger. The Spaniards were acquainted with our doings--the captains ofthe rifled ships would tell them so much; and some of us argued that ifevery petty Indian chief knew exactly where to meet us, then assuredlythe Dons must be aware of our route also. However, 'tis hard to makevictors cautious. We had a hearty contempt for the Spaniards inPanama, and did not give them credit for pluck enough to follow us. Sowe journeyed along in a fool's paradise, surrounded by admiringIndians, and so laden with booty and presents that we could only moveat a snail's pace.
"One day a native runner came to us from a friendly village with thenews that a force of a hundred Spaniards, well armed, was in pursuit.The Indians were eager for us to stay and meet the Dons, promising ushelp if we would do so. Oxenham decided he had done enough for gloryjust then, and thought it wiser to get back to his ship and sail forhome; our spoil was too precious to be risked, and was a tempting baitto any foe. We set out at once. Coming to a place where two streamsentered the main river, we took the smallest waterway, hoping thus tobaffle pursuit, for our real path lay along the main stream. Our rusewould have succeeded but for a trivial oversight. The Dons came to theparting of the ways, and were nonplussed as to our route. They haddecided to follow the main stream, and were seated in their canoesready to resume the pursuit, when a bunch of plucked feathers came downthe smallest stream. Within ten minutes other feathers came floatingalong, and some were bloodstained. They rightly guessed that thesewere evidence that we had prepared food somewhere higher up. Boatswere forsaken, and a march through the forest commenced. That verynight they surprised us. We fought well, and our Indian friends provedno cowards. Fifty of us, fairly well laden with gold, got away, andafter a toilsome march reached the place where our ship had beenhidden--only to find it gone!
"We hunted the creek on both sides, and found unmistakable signs thatthe Dons had found our vessel and confiscated it. Why they did not liein ambush for us we could not imagine. Maybe they thought useffectually trapped, and likely to be an easy prey to fever, or totheir attack after fever had had its way with us. For a while we werein despair; then we remembered old England, and what she expects of hersons. We buried our gold, felled trees, and began to build canoes.But the side of the creek at night was a death-trap. Heavy foetidmists wreathed up from the waters, poisoning the air; noxious insectshummed about our couches, and loathly reptiles crawled out of the mudand chilled our hearts with their horrible croakings. One by one wesickened; in ones, twos, threes we died. Then the cunning Dons came inforce. They were five to our one, and we trembling with fever. Wefought as well as we could. Many fell fighting; others, too weak tostand to deliver a stout blow, were taken as prisoners: we three wereamongst these. Our captors cured us of the fever, then handed us overto the priests at Vera Cruz. A year we spent in prison. We have beenon the rack; the thumbscrews bereft us of thumbs, for they crushed themso badly that we were fain to have them off, fearing the arm mightmortify. The villains cropped us of one ear, so that they might trackus if we chanced to escape. By the mercy of God we did escape, and,despite the mark set upon us, avoided recapture and found our way backto Plymouth. What perils we passed through in swamp and forest, byriver and sea, ere we found an English ship I cannot now set forth.Let it suffice that we are here, alive and eager for furtheropportunities on the isthmus."
"How do you propose to get there?" asked Jeffreys.
"We would see thy master, Sir Walter, and get him to fit a ship. Thereis gold enough buried by the creek banks to repay him or any other man."
Jeffreys shook his head. "Sir Walter's eyes are turned farther south.He would find 'El Dorado.'"