method of salvation. Did he know the way back again? Who could ask such
a question of an Indian? And the lad's black eyes flashed fire, as Amyas
offered him liberty and iron enough for a dozen Indians, if he would
lead them through the passes of the mountains, and southward to the
mighty river, where lay their golden hopes. Hernando de Serpa, Amyas
knew, had tried the same course, which was supposed to be about one
hundred and twenty leagues, and failed, being overthrown utterly by the
Wikiri Indians; but Amyas knew enough of the Spaniards' brutal method
of treating those Indians, to be pretty sure that they had brought that
catastrophe upon themselves, and that he might avoid it well enough by
that common justice and mercy toward the savages which he had learned
from his incomparable tutor, Francis Drake.
Now was the time to speak; and, assembling his men around him, Amyas
opened his whole heart, simply and manfully. This was their only hope
of safety. Some of them had murmured that they should perish like John
Oxenham's crew. This plan was rather the only way to avoid perishing
like them. Don Guzman would certainly return to seek them; and not only
he, but land-forces from St. Jago. Even if the stockade was not forced,
they would be soon starved out; why not move at once, ere the Spaniards
could return, and begin a blockade? As for taking St. Jago, it was
impossible. The treasure would all be safely hidden, and the town well
prepared to meet them. If they wanted gold and glory, they must seek it
elsewhere. Neither was there any use in marching along the coast, and
trying the ports: ships could outstrip them, and the country was already
warned. There was but this one chance; and on it Amyas, the first and
last time in his life, waxed eloquent, and set forth the glory of the
enterprise, the service to the queen, the salvation of heathens, and
the certainty that, if successful, they should win honor and wealth and
everlasting fame, beyond that of Cortez or Pizarro, till the men, sulky
at first, warmed every moment; and one old Pelican broke out with--
"Yes, sir! we didn't go round the world with you for naught; and watched
your works and ways, which was always those of a gentleman, as you
are--who spoke a word for a poor fellow when he was in a scrape, and saw
all you ought to see, and naught that you ought not. And we'll follow
you, sir, all alone to ourselves; and let those that know you worse
follow after when they'
|