With Drake on the Spanish Main Part 25

"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 pa.s.sage 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 slas.h.i.+ng 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 s.n.a.t.c.hing a hasty breakfast before departing, a dozen hors.e.m.e.n 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 hors.e.m.e.n 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 s.h.i.+p. 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 n.o.bly, 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 insh.o.r.e. 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 G.o.d because they saw their pinnace and their fellows again.

CHAPTER XXI

Maiden Isle Again

As they sailed back in the pinnace to the secret haven, the weary adventurers were surrounded by their comrades, and feasted their ears with wondrous tales of what had befallen them. Ellis Hixom also had a story to tell. A few days after the departure of the company, there had staggered into the clearing three men in the last stage of exhaustion. Two were English, one French. They were pitiable objects, their eyes bright with fever, their cheeks haggard with famine, their feet blistered and bleeding from long wandering in the woods. Each man carried a bag of pearls.

And they told a pitiful story. They had escaped, they said, from captivity in Nombre de Dios, and set out with three comrades, bearing plunder from the houses of their captors. It was well known along the coast that Drake was somewhere in hiding, and they marched eastward, hoping by good hap to light upon his encampment. But as they rested one night, the leader had overheard a plot on the part of three of the men to slay the rest and make off with the booty. Fearing that if it came to a fight he and his two comrades would stand but little chance against the others, who were men of exceeding great strength and ferocity, the three had slipped away in the darkness and had since been tramping for days through the forest, unable to find sufficient food, and subsisting on berries and mushrooms. Once they had almost stumbled into a village of maroons, and fled for their lives, dreading lest they should be taken for Spaniards and slain before the error was discovered.

"And where are they now?" asked Drake.

"On the _Pascha_, sir," replied Hixom, "where they are slowly recovering of their calentures."

"And the name of the leader?"

"Jan Biddle, by his own account a skilful mariner and----"

"Ay, I have heard tell of him," interrupted Drake with a grim smile.

"Master Hazelrig," he added, calling Dennis up, "I learn that the captain of your mutineers waits your judgement on my vessel."

He repeated what Hixom had told him.

"What is the name of the other Englishman, Master Hixom?" asked Dennis.

"d.i.c.k Rackstraw, methinks. The Frenchman's name is Michel Barren."

"Then what has become of our comrade Billy Hawk, I wonder? Biddle and his crew deserted from us with the treasure, when we came ash.o.r.e in our boat. Billy Hawk went after them; I fear me there has been foul play."

"We will enquire into that matter when we gain our haven," said Drake, "and see what Master Biddle has to say for himself."

As soon as he reached the haven, Drake boarded the _Pascha_ and called Biddle and his companions before him. He listened patiently to the man's wild tale, then sent a boat ash.o.r.e to bring off Dennis and Turnpenny. Biddle's jaw dropped when he saw them come over the side.

He attempted to bl.u.s.ter it out, but Drake cut him short.

"You are a foul liar and a mutineer," he said sternly. "Art a murderer also? What didst thou to Billy Hawk thy comrade? Answer to the point, villain."

"Afore G.o.d, sir, I know nought of him. With me came but four men, and two of those lie dead in the forest, of a strange sickness that got hold of them after that they had drunken of the water of a certain river. Of Billy Hawk I saw nor heard nought."

"My poor comrade!" said Turnpenny. "I fear me he be gone or alost."

"These are your men," said Drake, turning to Dennis. "The punishment of mutiny is death. Do with them as you list."

"I would fain leave them in your hands, sir," replied Dennis. "For me, I would not that any man should die."

"I will consider of it. Have them put in irons and carried below."

Next day he decided, on Dennis's intercession, to content himself with holding the men closely confined in the vessel. The bags of pearls were taken from them and handed to Dennis and Turnpenny. And ere the day was out Robert Pike was sent to join them. Drake had learnt of the mischievous part the man had played, which had resulted in the failure of his attack on the mule trains.

"A little darkness and solitude may teach him to refrain from the bottle," he said.

The enterprise had so nearly succeeded that when Drake declared he would make the attempt again, as soon as the time came for another convoy of treasure to cross the isthmus, every man of his company eagerly besought him for a place in the expedition. But Dennis reminded him of his promise to lend him a pinnace in which to sail to Maiden Isle and bring off his comrades.

"I will hold to my word," said Drake. "You and your brawny henchman have suffered less than the most of my men, by reason, I wot, of your being inured to hards.h.i.+ps on your island. Some days must needs pa.s.s before we are ready to attempt other enterprises. The island is but a day's sail, you said?"

"Ay, sir, and with good hap we should return on the second day, or the third at most."

"Then take the _Minion_ pinnace, and good hap go with you. You will need men. Choose out eight according to your mind, and a few maroons also. Juan was with you, I bethink me; he will doubtless serve you right faithfully. In sooth, I shall be mighty rejoiced to have with me the dozen men you go to find, for if they be in spirit and body like to you and your henchman, they will be most serviceable when I make my next journey to Panama. I would go fetch them myself, as I had purposed, but that our preparations demand my presence here."

Next day, then, the _Minion_ pinnace sailed out of the little haven with a crew of eight Englishmen and five maroons, three of whom were the men who had accompanied Dennis from the island. Mirandola also was on board. He had disappeared when Dennis set off with Drake to cross the isthmus, but had evidently kept a watch on the settlement, for the day after they returned he came out of the forest and attached himself to his old master with demonstrations of delight. A brisk breeze was blowing off sh.o.r.e; the pinnace was a first-rate sailer; by midday they were in sight of the island, and in the afternoon they rounded the shoulder of the cliff, Turnpenny steering the vessel into the gully.

Dennis, standing in the bows, caught sight of a group of men beyond the pool, near his sheds. They were partly hidden by the foliage, and when they saw the strange vessel making straight towards them, with the evident intention of coming to an anchorage, they took to their heels and disappeared.

"Poor souls! they take us for Spaniards," said Turnpenny. "I warrant they be most desperately in the dumps. 'Tis nigh a month since we departed hence."

The pinnace dropped anchor beside the _Maid Marian_, and the men went ash.o.r.e.

"Blow a blast," said Dennis to one of the men, who carried a trumpet, "with notes that will be familiar to their ears."

As the shrill notes rang out, he stepped ahead of the men, with Mirandola on his shoulder. Before long a man appeared among the trees far up the chine.

"Hallo hoy!" shouted Turnpenny. "Be that you, Tom Copstone? Come, comrade, never be afeard. We've come to take 'ee off, poor soul, and bring 'ee to Master Drake, who will make us all rich with much gold and treasure. Come, my hearts, Ned Whiddon, and Hugh Curder, and all."

Turnpenny's well-known voice was more successful than the trumpet's notes in banis.h.i.+ng the men's mistrust. Soon they came hasting down the gully, Copstone leading.

"I said it! I knew it," he cried, as he approached. "'You and me, Haymoss'--the blessed words stayed in my noddle, and I knew 'ee would come back somewhen, dear soul. But we be in piteous case. 'Tis a long ninny-watch we ha' kept, and hope was wellnigh drownded, sir. We could not make it out; we was mazed, every man of us; but you be come back, praise be to G.o.d."

He told how the disappearance of the _Mirandola_ had filled them first with consternation, then with bitter rage. Some of the men declared that they had been decoyed to the island; that they had been betrayed and deserted for the sake of the treasure. From the first Copstone and Whiddon had absolutely refused to believe that Dennis and Turnpenny had wilfully left them; Hugh Curder, indeed, had made a shrewd guess at what had actually happened; but the rest clung to their first notion, gave way to bursts of rage and reviling, and as the days pa.s.sed, settled down into a state of moody despair.

Copstone had tried to induce them to fit out the _Maid Marian_ for sea, but he had found it impossible to whip up enough energy among them.

They had some reason for their reluctance, inasmuch as, the stores of the _Maid Marian_ having been put aboard the _Mirandola_, there was no provision for a long voyage. The fruits of the island would spoil in a week or so, whereas if they clung to the island they were at least sure of finding a sufficient subsistence. But they had been troubled even on this point, for some of the men fell ill through recklessly eating fruits and berries without first ascertaining whether they were fit for food, and with broken health their spirits had been still further depressed.

"Poor souls!" said Turnpenny. "'Ee do look a w.a.n.gery and witherly crew. But 'ee be all here, all twelve, not a man lacking? My heart!

where be Gabriel Batten?"

"He never come back!"

"Never come back! What do 'ee mean?"