Sea-Dogs All!

by Tom Bevan

  Chapter XXXI.

  IN THE BAY OF SAN JOSEPH.

  The appearance of an English vessel in any harbour of Spanish Americawas the reverse of pleasing to the Spanish authorities. The Spaniardswho commanded in the smaller stations were not of the best type ofCastilian chivalry. Soldados of fortune, needy and unscrupulousadventurers, or intriguing favourites of some colonial governor, theyhad all the greed and arrogance of the noble Dons without their proudreserve and sense of chivalry and honour. In a hurry to get rich, theyground down the hapless natives into the dust. They robbed andill-treated their timid dependants without fear or remorse, and exacteda cringing obedience that hid smouldering fires of hate and revenge.The Spanish troops were as lawless as their leaders, and black inkwould turn red were one to attempt to tell the true tale of Spanishmisrule and terrorism in the rich islands of the West. The Don lookedupon the poor Indian as a chattel given over to him to do withaccording to his lordly will, and he usually acted in harmony with theextremest measure of his belief. And therein he differed wholly fromthose freebooting, audacious, devil-may-care sons of Devon and the westwho followed in the Spanish wake across the Western Main. To theEnglish mariner the gentle, heathen Indian was an object of compassion.God had given him a glorious land in which to dwell, and had heapedupon him riches that he could neither appreciate nor value; but in thehigher characteristics of manhood, and in the blessings of religiousrevelation, He had denied him much, and so we find Drake, Hawkins,Raleigh, Gilbert, Oxenham, Whiddon, and a score of other bold captainson all occasions treating the natives with civility and even kindness.The poor, brown-skinned fellows soon learned to know friend from foe,and everywhere they came forth to welcome the blue-eyed sons of Albion,whilst they ran and hid themselves from the darker-hued children ofSpain.

  The commandant of San Joseph quickly learned that an English vessel hadanchored in the bay, and he resolved to extend no courtesies whatsoeverto the unwelcome visitors. On finding that the ship was a small oneand without consorts, his resolution to treat her captain with disdainwas strengthened. John Drake fired a gun to announce his arrival; theechoes boomed round the bay, but brought no answer from the fort.Another signal was fired, with a similar lack of result. The gunner, agrizzled old veteran, who had been buccaneering with the great admiral,turned to his captain. "Thy brother--God preserve him!--would send aniron messenger with his third salute."

  John Drake smiled. "I'll send a gentle one first, Diggory," he said.He called up Master Jeffreys and Nick Johnson. "Which of ye two speaksthe better Spanish?"

  "I had the longer chance to learn the language," replied Nick, ruefullyrubbing the place denuded of an ear; "but Master Timothy doubtlesspossesses the choicer collection of words."

  "Quantity will serve us better than quality, perhaps. But go, both ofye, to the commandant and tell him that Captain Drake of the _GoldenBoar_ out of Plymouth will wait upon him at sunrise to-morrow. Take aship's boat with four rowers and four archers, and let the Indiansguide you."

  A boat was instantly lowered, Nick made the Indians understand what wasrequired of them, and the deputation rowed ashore. Their comradeswatched them curiously, and an equally interested group of nativesgathered on the shore to await their arrival.

  The keel bit into the sand, the two messengers stepped out, and theescort of archers formed up behind them. The rowers pushed the boatback so that it floated easily, then shipped their oars and waited.One of the Indians, proud of his position, strutted importantly at thehead of the small procession. (The unfortunate fellow was soundlywhipped before nightfall for rendering any assistance to the hatedEnglish.) Natives hung about in little groups, but no Spaniard wasseen until the gate of the castle was reached. There a sleepy sentinelyawned at them until they had repeated for the third time their requestfor an interview with the commandant. That officer was indulging in"siesta" and refused to be disturbed, and the deputation was still onthe outer side of the gate. Master Jeffreys lost his patience and histemper. "My message to thy master, fellow, was a civil one," heexclaimed, "and to the effect that Captain Drake of Plymouth, Devon,England, would honour him by waiting upon him at sunrise to-morrow.Now, methinks, Captain Drake will come to him in less ceremoniousfashion and without further delay." The irate Devonian turned on hisheel and strode off.

  And by so doing he missed the gratification of seeing the effect of hiswords. The name of "Drake" twice repeated acted as a talisman on theslumberous senses of the sentinel. His jaw dropped in sudden terror;he stared for a moment at the retreating figures, and then dashed intothe castle at a run.

  He burst in upon his drowsy commander.

  "Alas, signor, what have we done! The army of the saints preserve us!"

  "From what, blockhead?"

  "From the archfiend in the flesh. 'Tis Drake that hath sailed into thebay."

  The commandant sat and gaped in stupid affright.

  "Drake!" shouted the soldier.

  He had no need to say more. His officer's chin dropped on to hisbreast. "We are dead men," he muttered. "Why has he come hither? Wehave no gold, no treasure-ships. He will burn the place over ourheads." The man continued muttering to himself and fingering thebuckle of his loosened belt.

  The soldier looked through the window. "The Englishmen stand on thebeach," he said, "talking with Ayatlan, the chief. There is nomovement on the ship; no one signals. The messengers were civil whenthey came."

  "Son of a donkey!" blazed forth the commandant, "why didst not thou sayso? Run after them; prevent them from carrying angry faces to therobber who rules them. If I had men--not sheep--under me, I wouldfight this Drake; I'd rid the world of him, and Pope and king shouldbless me. But run, run!"

  And the soldier ran. Terror lent wings to his heels. One name rangthrough his brain, and the name was "Drake." He caught Master Timothyjust re-embarking his little band. The sight of the Indians restoredhim to some measure of dignity, and he volubly explained that theSpanish captain had not understood the signer's message. He apologizedprofusely, and promised that his commandant would make amends for themistake by paying the great sea-captain a visit as soon as a boat couldbe made ready.

  Nick understood more of the rapidly spoken Spanish than did Jeffreys,and he was satisfied. "There has doubtless been a mistake," he said tohis companion. "Probably this knave never carried our messageproperly. He is scared half out of his wits, and looks like a roguecondemned to be hanged. All's well that ends well. Let us be gettingback to the ship with a friendly report."

  About an hour later, the commandant, accompanied by an imposingretinue, both Spanish and Indian, rowed out to the _Golden Boar_.Captain Drake and the gentlemen of his company had been to theirwardrobes and donned their best, and the visitors by no means carriedoff the prize for the splendour of their array. As far as physique wasconcerned the Dons were completely outclassed. Sallow and listlessfrom tropical fevers and loose living, they stood in sharp contrast tothe brawny, clear-skinned Englishmen. The difference was obvious evento their own proud eyes, and they felt it.

  No sooner were the Spaniards aboard than they fixed their gaze on thegroup on the upper deck, and one thought prevailed in the minds ofall--"Which was the terrible Drake?"

  Morgan stood out above his fellows by a good head, but surely he wastoo young! The commandant had heard that Drake was no giant; he hadalso heard--and half believed--that he had horns, hoof, and a tail.The puzzle was solved. Captain Drake, short, burly, bearded,black-haired, bull-throated, but blue-eyed, stood forward; his air wasunmistakably one of command. Master Jeffreys undertook the duties ofmaster of the ceremonies, and the commanders were introduced to eachother and gracefully bowed their acknowledgments of the honour.

  The interview was short and formal. The Spaniard welcomed theEnglishmen, and hoped that the peace would not be broken. CaptainDrake echoed his hopes. The commandant offered presents of fruit,wine, and fresh meat; the skipper accepted and requited the kindness insuitable fashion. A fe
w flagons of wine were drunk, and the interviewended. The company aboard the _Golden Boar_ had no great opinion oftheir visitors, but the visitors had a better one of them. They hadnoted the spick and span order on shipboard, the bearing of the men,and they did not forget the name of the captain--they only made themistake of confounding him with the great admiral, his brother.