Under Drake's Flag: A Tale of the Spanish Main

  Produced by Martin Robb

  Under Drake's Flag:

  A Tale of the Spanish Mainby G A Henty.

  Contents

  Chapter 1: The Wreck on the Devon Coast.Chapter 2: Friends and Foes.Chapter 3: On the Spanish Main.Chapter 4: An Unsuccessful Attack.Chapter 5: Cast Ashore.Chapter 6: In the Woods.Chapter 7: An Attack in Force.Chapter 8: The Forest Fastness.Chapter 9: Baffled.Chapter 10: Southward Ho!Chapter 11: The Marvel of Fire.Chapter 12: Across a Continent.Chapter 13: Through the Cordilleras.Chapter 14: On the Pacific Coast.Chapter 15: The Prison of the Inquisition.Chapter 16: The Rescue.Chapter 17: The Golden Hind.Chapter 18: San Francisco Bay.Chapter 19: South Sea Idols.Chapter 20: A Portuguese Settlement.Chapter 21: Wholesale Conversion.Chapter 22: Home.

  Chapter 1: The Wreck on the Devon Coast.

  It was a Stormy morning in the month of May, 1572; and thefishermen of the little village of Westport, situate about fivemiles from Plymouth, clustered in the public house of the place;and discussed, not the storm, for that was a common topic, but thefact that Master Francis Drake, whose ships lay now at Plymouth,was visiting the Squire of Treadwood, had passed through thevillage over night, and might go through it again, today. There wasnot one of the hardy fishermen there but would gladly have joinedDrake's expedition, for marvellous tales had been told of the greatbooty which he, and other well-known captains, had already obtainedfrom the Dons on the Spanish Main. The number, however, who couldgo was limited, and even of these the seafaring men were but asmall proportion; for in those days, although a certain number ofsailors were required to trim the sails and navigate the ship, thestrength of the company were the fighting men, who were soldiers bytrade, and fought on board ship as if on land.

  Captain Drake was accompanied by many men of good Devon blood, forthat county was then ahead of all England in its enterprise, andits seamanship; and no captain of name or repute ever had anydifficulty in getting together a band of adventurers, from thesturdy population of her shores.

  "I went over myself, last week," said a finely-built young sailor,"and I prayed the captain, on my knees, to take me on board; but hesaid the tale had been full, long ago; and that so many were theapplicants that Master Drake and himself had sworn a great oath,that they would take none beyond those already engaged."

  "Aye! I would have gone myself," said a grizzly, weatherbeaten oldsailor, "if they would have had me. There was Will Trelawney, whowent on such another expedition as this, and came back with morebags of Spanish dollars than he could carry. Truly they are a goldmine, these Western seas; but even better than getting gold is thethrashing of those haughty Spaniards, who seem to look uponthemselves as gods, and on all others as fit only to clean theirworships' boots."

  "They cannot fight neither, can they?" asked a young sailor.

  "They can fight, boy, and have fought as well as we could; but,somehow, they cannot stand against us, in those seas. Whether it isthat the curse of the poor natives, whom they kill, enslave, andill treat in every way, rises against them, and takes away theircourage and their nerve; but certain is it that, when our littlecraft lay alongside their big galleons, fight as they will, thebattle is as good as over. Nothing less than four to one, at thevery least, has any chance against our buccaneers."

  "They ill treat those that fall into their hands, do they not?"

  "Ay, do they!" said the old sailor. "They tear off their flesh withhot pincers, wrench out their nails, and play all sorts of devil'sgames; and then, at last, they burn what is left of them in themarketplaces. I have heard tell of fearsome tales, lad; but theSpaniards outwit themselves. Were our men to have fair treatment asprisoners of war, it may be that the Spaniards would often be ableto hold their own against us; but the knowledge that, if we aretaken, this horrible fate is certain to be ours, makes our menfight with a desperate fury; and never to give in, as long as oneis left. This it is that accounts for the wonderful victories whichwe have gained there. He would be a coward, indeed, who would notfight with thumbscrews and a bonfire behind him."

  "It is said that the queen and her ministers favor, though notopenly, these adventures."

  "She cannot do it openly," said the old man, "for here in Europe weare at peace with Spain--worse luck."

  "How is it, then, that if we are at peace here, we can be at war inthe Indian Seas?"

  "That is more than I can tell thee, lad. I guess the queen's writruns not so far as that; and while her majesty's commands must beobeyed, and the Spanish flag suffered to pass unchallenged, onthese seas; on the Spanish main there are none to keep the peace,and the Don and the Englishman go at each other's throats, as athing of nature."

  "The storm is rising, methinks. It is not often I have heard thewind howl more loudly. It is well that the adventurers have not yetstarted. It would be bad for any craft caught in the Channel,today."

  As he spoke, he looked from the casement. Several people were seenhurrying towards the beach.

  "Something is the matter, lads; maybe a ship is driving on therocks, even now."

  Seizing their hats and cloaks, the party sallied out, and hurrieddown to the shore. There they saw a large ship, driving in beforethe wind into the bay. She was making every effort that seamanshipcould suggest, to beat clear of the head; but the sailors saw, atonce, that her case was hopeless.

  "She will go on the Black Shoal, to a certainty," the old sailorsaid; "and then, may God have mercy on their souls."

  "Can we do nothing to help them?" a woman standing near asked.

  "No, no," the sailor said; "we could not launch a boat, in theteeth of this tremendous sea. All we can do is to look out, andthrow a line to any who may be washed ashore, on a spar, when shegoes to pieces."

  Presently a group of men, whose dress belonged to the upper class,moved down through the street to the beach.

  "Aye! there is Mr. Trevelyan," said the sailor, "and the gentlemanbeside him is Captain Drake, himself."

  The group moved on to where the fishermen were standing.

  "Is there no hope," they asked, "of helping the ship?"

  The seamen shook their heads.

  "You will see for yourself, Master Drake, that no boat could livein such a sea as this."

  "It could not put out from here," the Captain said; "but if theycould lower one from the ship, it might live until it got into thebreakers."

  "Aye, aye," said a sailor; "but there is no lowering a boat from aship which has begun to beat on the Black Shoal."

  "Another minute and she will strike," the old sailor said.

  All gazed intently at the ship. The whole population of the villagewere now on the shore, and were eager to render any assistance, ifit were possible. In another minute or two, a general cry announcedthat the ship had struck. Rising high on a wave, she came down witha force which caused her mainmast at once to go over the side.Another lift on the next sea and then, high and fast, she wasjammed on the rocks of the Black Shoal. The distance from shore wasbut small, not more than three hundred yards, and the shouts of thesailors on board could be heard in the storm.

  "Why does not one of them jump over, with a rope?" Captain Drakesaid, impatiently. "Are the men all cowards, or can none of themswim? It would be easy to swim from that ship to the shore, whileit is next to impossible for anyone to make his way out, throughthese breakers.

  "Is there no one who can reach her from here?" he said, lookinground.

  "No one among us, your honor," the old sailor said. "Few here cankeep themselves up in the water, in a calm sea; but if man or boycould swim through that surf, it is the lad who is just coming downfrom behind us. The Otter, as we call him, for he seems to be ableto live, in wa
ter, as well as on land."

  The lad of whom they were speaking was a bright-faced boy, of somefifteen years of age. He was squarely built, and his dress differeda little from that of the fisher lads standing on the beach.

  "Who is he?" asked Captain Drake.

  "He is the son of the schoolmaster here, a learned man, and they dosay one who was once wealthy. The lad himself would fain go to sea,but his father keeps him here. It is a pity, for he is a bold boy,and would make a fine sailor."

  The Otter, as he had been called, had now come down to the beach;and, with his hands shading his eyes from the spray, sheets ofwhich the wind carried along with blinding force, he gazed at theship and the sea, with a steady intentness.

  "I think I can get out to her," he said, to the fishermen.

  "It is madness, boy," Captain Drake said. "There are few men,indeed, so far as I know, in these climes--I talk not of theheathens of the Western Islands--who could swim through a breakingsea, like yonder."

  "I think I can do it," the boy said, quietly. "I have been out inas heavy seas before, and if one does but choose one's time, andhumor them a bit, the waves are not much to be feared, after all.

  "Get me the light line," he said, to the sailors, "and I will beoff, at once."

  So saying, he carelessly threw off his clothes. The fishermenbrought a light line. One end they fastened round his shouldersand, with a cheerful goodbye, he ran down to the water's edge.

  The sea was breaking with tremendous violence, and the chance ofthe lad's getting out, through the breakers, appeared slight,indeed. He watched, however, quietly for three or four minutes,when a wave larger than usual broke on the beach. Following it out,he stood knee deep, till the next great wave advanced; then, with aplunge, he dived in beneath it. It seemed an age before he wasagain seen, and Captain Drake expressed his fear that his head musthave been dashed against a rock, beneath the water.

  But the men said:

  "He dives like a duck, sir, and has often frighted us by the timehe keeps under water. You will see, he will come up beyond thesecond line of waves."

  It seemed an age, to the watchers, before a black spot appearedsuddenly, beyond the foaming line of breakers. There was a generalshout of "There he is!" But they had scarce time to note theposition of the swimmer, when he again disappeared. Again and againhe came up, each time rapidly decreasing the distance betweenhimself and the shipwrecked vessel; and keeping his head above thewaves for a few seconds, only, at each appearance.

  The people in the vessel were watching the progress of the lad,with attention and interest even greater than was manifested bythose on shore; and as he approached the ship, which already showedsigns of breaking up, a line was thrown to him. He caught it, butinstead of holding on and being lifted to the ship, he fastened thelight rope which he had brought out to it, and made signs to themto haul.

  "Fasten a thicker rope to it," he shouted, "and they will haul itin, from the shore."

  It would have been no easy matter to get on board the ship; so,having done his work, the lad turned to make his way back to theshore.

  A thick rope was fastened, at once, by those of the crew who stillremained on the deck of the vessel, to the lighter one; and thoseon shore began to pull it rapidly in; but, ere the knotted jointreached the shore, a cry from all gathered on the beach showed thatthe brave attempt of the Otter had been useless. A tremendous seahad struck the ship, and in a moment it broke up; and a number offloating fragments, alone, showed where a fine vessel had, a fewminutes before, floated on the sea.

  The lad paused in his course towards the shore and, looking round,endeavored to face the driving wind and spray; in hopes that hemight see, among the fragments of the wreck, some one to whom hisassistance might be of use. For a time, he could see no signs of ahuman being among the floating masses of wreck; and indeed, he wasobliged to use great caution in keeping away from these, as a blowfrom any of the larger spars might have been fatal.

  Presently, close to him, he heard a short muffled bark; and,looking round, saw a large dog with a child in its mouth. Theanimal, which was of the mastiff breed, appeared already exhausted.The Otter looked hastily round and, seeing a piece of wreck ofsuitable size, he seized it, and with some difficulty succeeded inbringing it close to the dog. Fortunately the spar was a portion ofone of the yards, and still had a quantity of rope connected to it.He now took hold of the child's clothes, the dog readily yieldingup the treasure he had carried, seeing that the newcomer was likelyto afford better assistance than himself.

  In a few moments the child was fastened to the spar, and the Otterbegan steadily to push it towards the shore; the dog swimmingalongside, evidently much relieved at getting rid of his burden.When he neared the line of breakers the lad waved his hand, as asign to them to prepare to rush forward, and lend a hand, when thespar approached. He then paddled forward quietly and, keeping justoutside the line of the breakers, waved to those on shore to throw,if possible, a rope. Several attempts were made to hurl a stone,fastened to the end of a light line, within his reach.

  After many failures, he at last caught the line. This he fastenedto the spar, and signaled to those on shore to pull it in; then,side by side with the dog, he followed. Looking round behind him,he watched a great breaker rolling in and, as before, dived as itpassed over his head, and rode forward on the swell towards theshore.

  Then there was a desperate struggle. At one moment his feet touchedthe ground, at another he was hauled back and tossed into thewhirling sea; sometimes almost losing his consciousness, but everkeeping his head cool, and striving steadily to make progress.Several times he was dashed against the beach with great force, andit was his knowledge that the only safe way of approaching shore,through a heavy surf, is to keep sideways to the waves, and allowthem to roll one over and over, that he escaped death--for, had headvanced straight towards the shore, the force of the waves wouldhave rolled him heels-over-head, and would almost certainly havebroken his neck.

  At last, just as consciousness was leaving him, and he thought thathe could struggle no more, a hand grasped his arm. The fishermen,joining hand in hand, had gone down into the surf; and after manyineffectual efforts, had at last seized him, as a retiring wave wascarrying him out again, for the fifth time.

  With the consciousness of rescue all feeling left him, and it wassome minutes before he recovered his senses. His first question wasfor the safety of the child on the spar, and he was glad to hearthat it had come to shore without hurt. The dog, too, had beenrolled up the beach, and seized before taken off again, but hadbroken one of its legs.

  The Otter was soon on his feet again and, saying, "I must make myway home, they will be alarmed about me," was about to turn away,when a group of gentlemen standing near advanced.

  "You are a fine lad," one of them said to him. "A fine lad, and anhonor to the south of Devonshire. My name is Francis Drake, and ifthere be aught that I can do for you, now or hereafter, I shall beglad, indeed, to do my utmost for so gallant a youth as yourself."

  "Oh, sir!" the boy exclaimed, his cheek flushing with excitement."If you are Master Francis Drake, will you let me join your ship,for the voyage to the Indies?"

  "Ah! my boy," the gentleman said, "you have asked the only thing,perhaps, which I should feel obliged to refuse you. Already we havemore than our number, and to avoid the importunity of the many whowish to go, or of my powerful friends who desired to place sons orrelations in my charge, I have been obliged to swear that I wouldtake no other sailor, in addition to those already shipped.

  "You are, however, young," he said, as he marked the change in theboy's face; "and I promise you that if I come back, and again sailon an expedition like that on which I now start, that you shall beone of my crew. What is your name, lad? I hear them call you Otter,and truly the beast is no better swimmer than you are."

  "My name, sir, is Ned Hearne. My father is the schoolmaster here."

  "Will he consent, think you, to your taking to a seafaring life?"


  "Methinks he will, sir. He knows that my heart is set upon it, forhe hath often said if I loved my lessons with one-tenth of the loveI bear for the sea, I should make a good scholar, and be a creditto him."

  "I will not forget you, lad. Trust me, and when you hear of myreturn, fail not to send a reminder, and to claim a place in mynext adventure."

  Ned Hearne, delighted at the assurance, ran off at full speed tothe cottage where his father resided, at the end of the village.The dominie, who was an old man, wore the huge tortoise-shellrimmed spectacles of the time.

  "Wet again," he said, as his son burst into the room in which hewas sitting, studying a Greek tome. "Truly thou earnest the name ofwhich thou art so proud, Otter, hardly. What tempted thee to gointo the water, on a day like this?"

  Ned briefly explained what had taken place. The story was nounusual one, for this was the third time that he had swum out tovessels on the rocks between Westport and Plymouth. Then he relatedto his father how Captain Francis Drake had spoken to him, andpraised him, and how he had promised that, on his next trip to theWest Indies, he would take him with him.

  "I would not have you count too much upon that," the dominie said,dryly. "It is like, indeed, that he may never come back from thishare-brain adventure; and if he brings home his skin safe, he will,methinks, have had enough of burning in the sun, and fighting theSpaniards."

  "But hath he not already made two or three voyages thither,Father?" the boy asked.

  "That is true enough," said his father; "but from what I gather,these were mere trips to spy out the land. This affair on which hestarts now will be, I wot, a very different matter."

  "How is it, Father," the boy said on the following morning,resuming the conversation from the point which they were at when hewent up to change his wet clothes, the day before, "that whenEngland is at peace with Spain, our sailors and the Spanish dofight bloodily, in the West Indies?"

  "That, my son, is a point upon which the Roman law telleth usnothing. I have, in my shelves, some very learned treatises on war;but in none do I find mention of a state of things in which twopowers, at peace at home, do fight desperately at the extreme endof the earth."

  "But, Father, do you think it not lawful to kill the Spaniard, andto take the treasures which he robbeth from the poor heathen of theWest?"

  "I know not about lawful, my son, but I see no warrant whatsoeverfor it; and as for heathen, indeed, it appears to me that theattacks upon him do touch, very closely, upon piracy upon the highseas. However, as the country in general appeareth to approve ofit, and as it is said that the queen's most gracious majesty dothgladly hear of the beating of the Spaniards, in those seas, itbecometh not me to question the rights of the case."

  "At any rate, Father, you would not object when the time comes forme to sail with Mr. Francis Drake?"

  "No, my boy; thou hast never shown any aptitude whatever forlearning. Thou canst read and write, but beyond that thy knowledgerunneth not. Your mind seems to be set on the water, and when youare not in it you are on it. Therefore it appears, to me, to beflying in the face of Providence to try to keep you on shore. Hadyour poor mother lived, it would have been a different thing. Hermind was set upon your becoming a clerk; but there, one might aswell try to make a silk purse from the ear of a sow. But I tell youagain, count not too much upon this promise. It may be years beforeMr. Francis Drake may be in a position to keep it."

  Had Ned Hearne watched for Captain Drake's second voyage, he would,indeed, as his father had said, have waited long. Three days afterthe conversation, however, a horseman from Plymouth rode into thelittle village, and inquired for the house of Master Hearne. Beingdirected thither, he rode up in haste to the gate.

  "Here is a letter!" he cried, "for the son of the schoolmaster, whogoes by the name of the Otter."

  "I am he," Ned cried. "What is it, and who can have written to me?"

  "It is a letter from His Honor, the Worshipful Mr. Francis Drake."

  Seizing the letter, Ned broke the seal, read a few lines, threw hiscap into the air with a shout of joy, and rushed in to his father.

  "Father," he said, "Captain Drake has written to acquaint me thatone of the boys in his ship has been taken ill, and cannot go; andthat it has pleased him to appoint me to go in his place; and thatI am to be at Plymouth in three days, at the utmost, bringing withme what gear I may require for the expedition."

  The schoolmaster was a little taken aback at this sudden prospectof departure, but he had always been wholly indulgent to his son,and it was not in his nature to refuse to allow him to availhimself of an opportunity which appeared to be an excellent one.The danger of these expeditions was, no doubt, very great; but thespoils were in proportion, and there was not a boy or man of theseafaring population of Devon who would not gladly have gone withthe adventurous captains.

  Chapter 2: Friends and Foes.