great one of twenty guns,
with 70,000 pieces-of-eight . . . He himself, however, was presently
captured by a larger vessel, and imprisoned on board. Being carelessly
watched, he escaped on two earthen jars (for he could not swim), reached
the woods in Campechy, and walked for a hundred and twenty miles through
the bush. His only food was a few shell-fish, and by way of a knife he
had a large nail, which he whetted to an edge on a stone. Having made a
kind of raft, he struck a river, and paddled to Golpho Triste, where he
found congenial pirates. With twenty of these, and a boat, he returned
to Campechy, where he had been a prisoner, and actually captured the
large ship in which he had lain captive! Bad luck pursued him, however:
his prize was lost in a storm; he reached Jamaica in a canoe, and never
afterwards was concerned as leader in any affair of distinction. Not
even Odysseus had more resource, nor was more long-enduring; but Fortune
was The Portuguese's foe.

Braziliano, another buccaneer, served as a pirate before the mast, and
"was beloved and respected by all." Being raised to command, he took a
plate ship; but this success was of indifferent service to his otherwise
amiable character. "He would often appear foolish and brutish when in
drink," and has been known to roast Spaniards alive on wooden spits "for
not showing him hog yards where he might steal swine." One can hardly
suppose that Kingsley would have regretted _this_ buccaneer, even if he
had been the last, which unluckily he was not. His habit of sitting in
the street beside a barrel of beer, and shooting all passers-by who would
not drink with him, provoked remark, and was an act detestable to all
friends of temperance principles.

Francois L'Olonnois, from southern France, had been kidnapped, and sold
as a slave in the Caribbee Islands. Recovering his freedom, he plundered
the Spanish, says my buccaneer author, "till his unfortunate death." With
two canoes he captured a ship which had been sent after him, carrying ten
guns and a hangman for his express benefit. This hangman, much to the
fellow's chagrin, L'Olonnois put to death like the rest of his prisoners.
His great achievements were in the Gulf of Venezuela or Bay of Maracaibo.
The gulf is a strong place; the mouth, no wider than a gun-shot, is
guarded by two islands. Far up the inlet is Maracaibo, a town of three
thousand people, fortified and surrounded by woods. Yet farther up i