On the 20th of March they started again, and reached the straits on the 8th of April. At first the view is desolate and bare, but as you pass the two narrows and enter the long reach, which runs north and south for a hundred miles, the hills become thickly wooded with winter's bark and an evergreen beech, most of them draped in moss and set deep in arbutus and berberis. High mountains capped with snow stand up to the south, while humming-birds skimmed the trailing fuchsias.
As they reached the dark frowning rock called Cape Froward, a wintry gale met them, snowstorms burst upon them, and their only food was mussels and limpets; they had to anchor for shelter in a little bay for more than a month.
Anthony Knivet, one of the crew of the Leicester, thus described the intense cold: "When I came on board with wet feet and began pulling off my stockings, the toes came off with them: 'tis true! and a shipmate of mine, Harris by name, lost his nose entirely; for, as he was going to blow it with his fingers, he cast it incontinently into the fire."
Cavendish now wanted to go back, but Davis assured him the snowstorms would end, and all would be well, if only they would persevere. "Then we will go back to the Brazilian coast," said Cavendish, "and obtain supplies."
So they sailed back through the straits, Cavendish having returned to his own ship. At Cape Famine Cavendish landed all the sick from the Leicester, and left them to starve from damp, cold, and hunger.
For the second time Cavendish disappeared in the night without making any signal; this time he landed his sick on a hot beach under a tropical sun, and there abandoned them.
Cavendish sailed for England, but died on the way.
In his will he accused Davis of deserting him; but the facts seem to put the blame for desertion on his own shoulders; or it is possible that each of these men was waiting for the other, each believing that the other had deserted him. And our verdict on Cavendish should be modified by the state of his health, which was evidently broken by anxiety and fear of mutiny, as well as by the terrible sufferings caused by rough seasons.
In a letter to his executor, which Cavendish wrote before his death, he says: "Consider whether a heart made of flesh be able to endure so many misfortunes, all falling upon me without intermission. I thank my God that, in ending of me, He hath pleased to rid me of all further trouble and mishaps."
Davis waited for nine weeks in Port Desire for Cavendish; his own plight was sorry, for his sails were worn-out, his cables chafed and untrustworthy, and he had lost a boat and oars. However, he resolved to send the pinnace in search of Cavendish, but two men on board the Desire, named Charles Parker and Edward Smith, persuaded the crew that Davis intended to maroon them; they even formed a plot to murder their captain. This plot was revealed by the boatswain, and Davis, instead of hanging the two men, as most captains would have done, called his crew together, took them into his confidence, and explained his purpose; he forgave the mutineers, and gave up the idea of sending the pinnace away.