by G. A. Henty
The boys withdrew from the road, Don Estevan proceeding ahead. They heard the sound of the galloping hoofs pause, as their rider met the Spaniard. There was a talk for a few minutes, and then the horseman again rode forward at full speed. Don Estevan paused for a little while, to allow him to get beyond earshot, and then rejoined his companions.
“I have great news,” he said, “and it is for you to decide whether it will alter your plan of proceeding. The man whom I have just met is a messenger, dispatched by the governor of Arica to Lima, to warn the governor there that an English ship, under the noted freebooter Francis Drake, has put into that harbor; and has started again, sailing for the north, after exacting certain contributions, but otherwise refraining from injuring the town.”
The boys gave a shout of joy, for they had begun to fear that the expedition must have met with some disaster, in doubling Cape Horn, and been compelled to return.
“What will you do?” the Spaniard asked.
“Return to Lima!” the boys exclaimed, simultaneously. “We shall be there before the admiral can arrive, and can then rejoin our comrades.”
“That will indeed be your best plan,” Don Estevan said; “but you must be disguised thoroughly. However, you are not likely to be so closely investigated as you otherwise would be, at Lima; for you may be sure that, when the messenger arrives there, the town will be in such a ferment of excitement, at the approach of your countrymen, that our little affair will, for the time, be entirely forgotten.”
“I trust,” Ned said, “that we shall be able to do something to render your security more perfect; for, if I mistake not, when the admiral hears of the doings of the officials of the Inquisition, how many people they have burned to death lately at Lima, and what frightful cruelties they have perpetrated in that ghastly prison, he will burn the place to the ground and hang up the judges; in which case we may be sure that no further inquiry will ever be thought of, concerning the attack on the prison. What do you advise us to do, senor? For it is clear that your best course is to return to Arica, direct.”
“I cannot think of doing that,” the generous young Spaniard replied. “A few days’ longer absence will pass unnoticed, especially as people will have plenty of other matters to think, and talk, about. I do not see how you can possibly obtain disguises without my assistance; and as our pursuers will long since have been thrown off our track, and will probably have given up the search and have returned to Lima, convinced that we already have crossed the mountains and are beyond their reach. I think that there is little danger in my nearing the city.
“Come, let us turn our horses’ heads, at once.”
In a few minutes, they were returning by the route they had hitherto traveled They were already dressed as young Spaniards. The disguises had been brought by their rescuer, and assumed at the first halt. He himself had also washed the paint from his face and hands, and had assumed European garb, in order that any inquiry about three mounted Indians might be baffled.
“There is now,” he said, “no longer any occasion for us to ride by night. We are journeying north, and any inquiries which may ever be set on foot will certainly point only to men going south; and whereas our Indian disguises might have been suspected, I am now in my proper character, and my passing through can excite no rumor or comment.”
Don Estevan had, indeed, assumed the garb of a Spanish proprietor of rank, while the boys were dressed as vaqueros; and as they passed through villages, in the daytime, kept their horses half a length behind that of their leader. They avoided, on their ride back, putting up at any of the posadas, or village inns, on their road; sleeping, as before, in the woods. Their marches were long, but were performed at a much slower rate of speed, as they were certain that they would reach Lima long before the admiral’s ship, even should he not pause at any place on the way.
It was upon the sixth day after their rescue from prison that they again approached Lima. After much consultation, they had agreed to continue in their Spanish dresses, taking only the precaution of somewhat staining their faces and hands, to give them the color natural to men who spend their lives on the plains. Don Estevan, himself, determined to enter the city with them after nightfall; and to take them to the house of a trusty friend, where they should lie, concealed, until the news arrived that the English ship was off the port. He himself would at once mount his horse, and retrace his steps to Arica.
The programme was carried out successfully. No one glanced at the hidalgo as, with his vaqueros, he rode through the streets of Lima. There were no lights, in those days, save those which hung before shrines by the roadside; or occasionally a dim oil lamp, suspended before the portico of some mansion of importance.
The friend to whom Don Estevan assigned them was a young man, of his own age; a cousin, and one, like himself, liberal in his opinions, free from bigotry, and hating the cruelties perpetrated in the name of religion by the Inquisition. He heard with surprise the narrative which Don Estevan related; for the latter had not visited him during his short stay in the city, and was supposed still to be at Arica. Great was his astonishment, indeed, when he found that the attack upon the prison of the Inquisition, which had caused such intense excitement in the city, had been planned and executed by his cousin; and his expressions of approval of the deed were warm and frequent. He assured the boys that he would do everything in his power to make them comfortable until the arrival of the English ship.
A discussion took place as to whether it was better that they should appear as friends of his, who had come in from their country estate; or whether they should continue their disguise as vaqueros. There were objections to either plan. In the first place, the attendants in waiting would detect the shortcomings in Ned’s Spanish, and would be astonished at the silence of his companion. Upon the other hand, it would seem strange that they should be kept apart from the servitors of the house. Finally, it was agreed that they should appear as men of rank, but that Tom should feign sickness, and therefore keep his room; Ned for the most part remaining shut up with him, and taking his meals there.
This course was followed out, and when the arrangement was complete they took a hearty leave of the noble young Spaniard, who at once remounted his horse and started on his weary ride back again to Arica.
UNDER DRAKE’S FLAG [Part 3]
CHAPTER 17
The Golden Hind
The lads were all anxiety to know what course had been determined upon, with reference to the arrival of the English vessel. They were told that a large fleet was assembled in the harbor, but that great dissension existed, among the authorities, as to whether resistance should be offered or not.
“Surely,” Ned said, “they will never allow one vessel to enter a harbor, thronged with shipping, and with a strong garrison on shore ready to take part in the defense!”
Their host flushed a little, and said:
“You English must form but a poor opinion of Spanish courage. On shore, however, we have proved, on the battlefields of the Continent, that we can hold our own against all comers. But I own to you that your sea dogs have caused such a panic, among our sailors of the western isles, that they are looked upon as invincible, and our men appear to be paralyzed at the very name of the English buccaneers.”
“Why we are particularly anxious to know,” Ned said, “is that, if resistance is to be offered, it is clear that we must be ready to embark in a canoe, and to join the ship before she arrives off the harbor; as otherwise, if she is beaten off we may have no opportunity, whatever, of regaining her.”
“I think,” the Spaniard said, “that when the time comes, it is probable that no resistance may be offered; and that the valor of those who, so long as the ship is at a distance, are anxious to fight, will evaporate very rapidly. The citizens, too, are for the most part opposed to resistance; for they argue that, if the English conquer, they are likely to lay the town in ruins; whereas, if unopposed, they may content themselves with certain exactions upon the richer citizens, a
s has been their custom in the west.”
During the days that elapsed, many arguments took place, between the Spaniard and Ned, as to the lawfulness of the war which the English buccaneers carried on with the colonies of a nation at peace with their own, the Spaniard saying that they approached very nearly to the verge of piracy. Ned had never given the subject much consideration before. He had done as others did, and had regarded the Spaniards as lawful prey, their cruelty towards the natives forming, in the eyes of the English sailors, a justification for any treatment which they might inflict upon them. He was, however, forced to confess that, now the other side was presented to him, the conduct of his countrymen was really indefensible; and he blushed as he thought of the various acts of sacrilege in churches, and other deeds of plunder, in which he had taken part. He assured his friend that, in the future, neither he nor his companion would ever share in such deeds again.
It was upon the evening of the 15th of February, two days after their return to Lima, that their host entered with the news that a ship was seen in the distance approaching the port, and that it was the general opinion of the mariners that she was the dreaded English pirate. He had already made arrangements that a small boat should be lying at one end of the mole. He told them that he could not venture to engage rowers, as the fact of the escape of two white men from the town might be noticed, and inquiries made. The boys assured him, however, that they were perfectly able to row themselves; and that the smaller the number in the boat, the less chances there would be of their being received by a random shot from their friends.
It was just nightfall when the English ship entered the harbor, where thirty Spanish vessels were lying, all prepared for defense The Golden Hind entered the port and dropped her anchor in the midst; and the quiet resolution and confidence, which this act betrayed, struck such a panic into the minds of the Spanish captains, that not one dared be the first to fire a gun at the intruder. Half an hour after the Golden Hind came to anchor, a boat was seen approaching, and was met by the hail, “Who goes there?”
The joyful shout of “Friends, your comrades, Ned Hearne and Tom Tressilis,” was received by a cry of incredulity, and astonishment, by those on board the English vessel.
Two minutes later, the lads were on deck receiving the hearty embraces and congratulations of all the messmates; Reuben Gale and Gerald Summers being almost beside themselves with joy, at the return to them of the comrades they believed to be so long ago dead. The admiral himself was greatly moved at seeing them; for their gallantry during the preceding voyage, and their eager zeal to do all in their power for the expedition, had greatly raised them in his affections.
They were soon seated in the cabin, which was thronged by as many of the officers and gentlemen adventurers as could find room there. A brief narrative was given of their adventures, since leaving the fleet upon the other side of the continent; and loud were the expressions of surprise, and approval, at the manner in which they had gone through the various dangers and difficulties which they had encountered; Tom insisting, generously, that the credit was entirely due to the sagacity and coolness of his friend.
When the story of the scene in the dungeons of the Inquisition was told, and Captain Drake was informed that large numbers of persons had been burned alive in Lima, by the Inquisition, he was filled with fury; and at once dispatched two boat loads of men, armed to the teeth, to the shore, with orders to burn down the prison, to release any prisoners found there, and to offer them a safe passage to Europe; and also to hang all officials who might be found within the walls. Ned acted as guide.
The streets of Lima were deserted, as the news of the landing of a party from the English ship spread through the town; shops were closed and windows barred, and it was as through a city of the dead that the band passed rapidly along, until they reached the prison of the Inquisition. Here the doors were broken down, and the English sailors entered the ghastly prison. The cells were found to be tenanted only by natives, most of them men who had been captured in the hills, and who had refused to accept the Catholic religion. These were all loosed, and allowed to depart in freedom for the mountains, taking with them a store of such provisions for the way as could be found within the walls.
The sight of the torture room roused the fury of the sailors to the utmost pitch and, breaking into the part wherein dwelt the principal inquisitors, these were seized and hung from their windows. The contents of the various rooms were then heaped together, a light applied, and in a few minutes a glow of flame told the people of Lima that the dreaded prison of the Inquisition was no more.
The party then returned through the streets to the ship, and took part in the further operations commanded by the admiral. Proceeding from vessel to vessel, they took out all goods which they fancied, and which were either valuable, or might be useful to them in their further voyaging. They hewed down the masts of all the largest ships and, cutting their cables, allowed them to drift on shore.
No more astonishing scene was ever witnessed than that of thirty ships, backed by a garrison and considerable population on shore, allowing themselves to be thus despoiled and wrecked by the crew of one; and this a vessel inferior in size, and in the numerical strength of her crew, to many of those within the harbor.
The next day a party landed and stripped many of the churches of their valuables, and also levied a contribution upon the principal inhabitants. Ned and Tom, not thinking it worth while at this time to enter into a controversy, with the comrades to whom they had been so recently restored, as to the legality of their acts, simply declined to make part of the party who landed; alleging that they had had enough of the shore of the South American continent for the rest of their lives.
The 15th of February, the date upon which the Golden Hind arrived at the port of Lima, was indeed one to be remembered throughout the lives of the rescued seamen. Their future had appeared well-nigh hopeless. On the one side, the dungeon of the Inquisition and probably a death by fire. On the other, a life passed in the midst of savages, away from all possibility of ever rejoining their friends, or returning to their country. Now they were once again among those delighted to see them, and proudly trod the decks of the Golden Hind as gentlemen adventurers, having a good share in the booty, as well as in the honor, which would accrue to all on board.
So far, indeed, the plunder had been but small. Upon their way down to the Cape they had gleaned nothing, and since rounding it they had only touched at Valparaiso, where they had taken all that they required in the way of wines, stores, and provisions of all kinds, besides much gold and, it is sad to say, the rich plunder of the churches, including golden crosses, silver chalices, and altar cloths. Nowadays it gives one a positive shock to hear of English sailors rifling churches; but in those rough times, acts of sacrilege of this kind awakened but little reprobation.
The following day they hove the anchor and sailed northwards. In the port they had obtained news that, on the evening before they arrived, a ship laden with much treasure from Panama had appeared, but receiving news of the approach of the English, had again set sail. All determined that, if possible, the treasures on board the Cacafuego should pass into the hold of the Golden Hind.
Spreading all sail, they pressed northward. On the 20th of February they touched at the port of Paita, but did not find her there. On the 24th they passed the port of Guayaquil, and on the 28th crossed the line. On the 1st of March a sail was descried ahead and, sailing towards her, they found that she was indeed the vessel of which they were in search; and of which they had heard not only at Lima, but from a ship which they took at Paita, laden with wine; and from another, on board of which they found eighty pounds weight in gold, in Guayaquil.
The Cacafuego had no thought that the solitary ship which was seen approaching was that of Captain Drake; but taking her for a Spaniard, made no effort to fly. When, upon her coming close and hailing her to surrender, they discovered their mistake, the captain made a bold fight. Hastily loading his carronades,
he poured a volley into the Golden Hind, and did not surrender his ship until one of his masts had fallen by the board, and he himself was wounded. Then, finding further resistance useless, he hauled down his flag.
The booty taken was even greater than had been expected. Of gold and silver, alone, there was on board her to the value of 750,000 pounds, equal to a vastly larger sum in these days; besides immense quantities of precious stones, silver vessels, and other valuables. For six days they lay alongside the Cacafuego, transferring her cargo to the Golden Hind; and at parting, Captain Drake was considerate enough to give the captain a letter to Captain Winter, or any of the other captains of the fleet, should they come north and meet her, begging that she should be allowed to pass without interruption; or that, should they have need of any of the few articles left on board her, they would pay double the value. He also, in exchange for the valuables transferred, was good enough to bestow upon the master a little linen, and some other commodities.
As it was now certain that the whole coast would be thoroughly alarmed, and the Governor General at Panama would be prepared, with a powerful fleet, to resist the Golden Hind should she stir in that direction, Captain Francis determined to sail boldly out to sea, and then to shape his course so as to strike the coast again, far north of the Spanish possessions. His object, in thus undertaking a voyage which would seem likely to yield but little profit, was that he hoped he might find a passage round the north of America, and so not only shorten his own return journey home, but open a most valuable country for trade, for his own countrymen.
On the 7th of March, before putting out to sea, he touched at the Island of Cano, off the coast of Nicaragua. Here they had an alarm which startled even the boldest. As they lay at anchor they felt the shock of a terrible earthquake, which almost brought down the masts of the ship; and for a moment all thought that she had been struck by some hostile machine, or had fallen down on a rock. The pumps were manned, and it was happily found that she made no water.