This roused the hot blood of the Castilian adventurer, and he determined to enforce his claim with cold steel. He, therefore, chose sixty of his bravest men, armed them with coats of mail and steel helmets, and, taking to the boats, soon landed. They marched inland in order to chastise this independent ruler.
Cilapulapu had hastily collected all of his fighting men, arranged them in three divisions, and awaited the oncoming Spaniards. His soldiers were many—there were two thousand in each division, or six thousand in all—armed with spears, lances, darts, javelins, and arrows dipped in poison. The Spaniards little knew what they were marching against, yet, like Custer at the Little Big Horn, they kept on moving. And, like Custer, there was soon to be an equally severe defeat.
The mail-clad Castilians advanced boldly through the jungle to where the enemy was lying concealed, and there a shower of arrows beat down upon them, rattling like hail upon their steel coats. Many of the barbs were turned aside, but some penetrated the joints of the armor, and, entering the skin of the Spaniards, sent the deadly poison coursing through their veins.
Magellan urged on his followers by voice and waving sword, but, as he led the advance, a sharp barb penetrated a joint of his armor, and forced the deadly poison into his blood. The enemy now rushed in on every side, in overwhelming numbers, and showered their javelins upon the sixty brave soldiers of Castile. The wounded leader bravely endeavored to direct his men, in spite of his injury, but, as he shouted his battle-cry, a cane-lance struck him full in the face. The blow was fatal and he sank dead upon the ground.
His soldiers were now almost surrounded. Eight of them were killed, the rest retreated (as best they might) to the beach, leaving the body of their dead leader in the hands of the exultant savages, who made the air hideous with their exultant battle-cries.
THE DEATH OF MAGELLAN
So died the brave Portuguese navigator, on an island which was to belong to the Spanish Crown for many, many years. He had fallen as he had always wished to do, in the front of battle, and, although his followers endeavored to secure his body from the wild Filipinos, they were unable to do so. Their emissary to the barbarous Cilapulapu was murdered by this wily monarch, and, seeing that it was impossible to remain longer in this region, the navigators sailed away, bitterly cursing their misfortune in losing such a brave and courageous leader.
Reduced to forty-six in number, the survivors of this expedition of adventure and discovery continued their journey among the various islands of Polynesia until February, 1522, when they passed the extremity of Molucca, and, keeping outside of Sumatra, sailed due west toward the eastern coast of Africa. Twenty-one of the forty-six died of hunger before they reached the Cape Verde Islands, where, sending deputies ashore to represent their pitiable condition to the Portuguese authorities, they were allowed some rice, which was quickly disposed of. Thirteen of the sailors went on shore again to secure a further supply of provisions, but the Portuguese considered that they had done quite enough for them, so seized them and threw them into prison. The others, panic-stricken, hoisted sail, and, without endeavoring to release their companions, set out for their beloved Spain.