Creek within two Keys, or
little Islands, and rowed up to the Head of the Creek, being about a
Mile up, and there we landed May 1, 1681." The men flung their food and
clothes ashore, and scuttled their little ship, so that she sank at her
moorings. While they packed their "Snap-sacks" with flour, chocolate,
canisters of powder, beads, and whittles for the Indians, their slaves
"struck a plentiful Dish of Fish" for them, which they presently
broiled, and ate for their breakfasts. Some of the men scouted on ahead
for a mile or two, and then returned with the news that there were no
immediate dangers in front of them. Some of the pirates were weak and
sick, and "not well able to march." "We," therefore, "gave out, that if
any Man faultred in the Journey over Land he must expect to be shot to
death; for we knew that the Spaniards would soon be after us, and one
Man falling into their hands might be the ruin of us all, by giving an
account of our strength and condition: yet this would not deter 'em from
going with us."

At three that afternoon they set out into the jungle, steering a N.E.
course "by our Pocket Compasses." The rain beat upon them all the rest
of that day, and all the night long, a drenching and steady downpour,
which swamped the "small Hutts" they contrived to patch together. In the
morning they struck an old Indian trail, no broader than a horse-girth,
running somewhat to the east. They followed it through the forest till
they came to an Indian town, where the squaws gave them some corn-drink
or miscelaw, and sold them a few fowls and "a sort of wild Hogs." They
hired a guide at this village, "to guide us a day's march into the
Countrey." "He was to have for his pains a Hatchet, and his Bargain was
to bring us to a certain Indians habitation, who could speak Spanish."
They paid faithfully for the food the Indians gave them, and shared "all
sorts of our Provisions in common, because none should live better than
others," and so stand a better chance of crossing the isthmus. When they
started out, after a night's rest, one of the pirates, being already
sick of the march, slipped away into the jungle, and was seen no more.

They found the Spanish-speaking Indian in a bad mood. He swore that he
knew no road to the North Sea, but that he could take them to Cheapo, or
to Santa Maria, "which we knew to be Spanish Garrisons: either of them
at least 20 miles out of our way." He was plainly unwilling to have any
truck