With Drake on the Spanish Main

by Herbert Strang

"So it shall be, and I here proclaim Elizabeth, by the grace of God queen of England, France, and Ireland, queen of Maiden Isle on the Spanish Main. But this is idle mockery, Amos. We are not builders of empires, but poor castaways, doomed to linger out our lives in what is after all a desert, or else in painful servitude. There is nothing for laughter here."

And then they fell to talking of their chances of one day escaping from the island and seeing the fair shores of England again. It could only be by being taken off by an English ship, or by setting off themselves and risking the perilous voyage across the Atlantic. The latter alternative seemed beyond the bounds of possibility. The Maid Marian, even if they could make her hull seaworthy and repair her shattered spars and rigging, would need a crew to navigate her, and the maroons were not sailor men. To build a smaller craft capable of the long voyage was an enterprise beyond their powers. Turnpenny could make a shift to navigate a vessel, but he had no practical skill in ship-building.

The other alternative seemed equally unlikely, Dennis learnt from the sailor that the island on which they had so strangely met was situated deep in the Sound of Darien. It was less than a hundred and fifty miles from Cartagena, the capital of the Spanish Main, to the east, and about the same distance from Nombre de Dios to the west; but the trend of the coast caused vessels to stand out some distance to sea in passing, and thus the island was little likely to be touched at by chance visitors.

One other course occurred to Dennis, only to be dismissed when he mentioned it to Turnpenny. It was to build a boat capable of conveying them to the mainland, and to take refuge among the Indians or the mixed race of Cimaroons or maroons who had settlements at various parts of the coast. But Turnpenny pointed out that this would expose them to the risk of being caught by the Spaniards, who were constantly at war with the natives, and would at the same time quite ruin the chances of getting into touch with an English vessel. While they remained on the island there was always the bare possibility of some English or Huguenot adventurer coming within reach.

Faced by the prospect of an indefinite sojourn on the island, they had only to make the best of it. Turnpenny explained to the maroons the plan arranged for them, and they accepted it without demur. The prisoners were sullen and resentful, perforce submissive, not a little distrustful of their guards, from whom they had deserved no kindness. Baltizar the fat negro was given the task of supplying the party with food, partly from the natural resources of the island, partly from the stores of the Maid Marian, which Dennis resolved to share, economically, with the rest.

A spot about a mile from the chine was chosen as the site of the shelters for the maroons and their prisoners. Having set the men at work, Dennis returned with Turnpenny to his own hut. Mirandola no longer showed any jealousy of the presence of a third party; apparently he had been cured of it by fright at the prospect of being deserted. Turnpenny, on his part, before the day was out was so much amused at the animal's antics that he lost his first disgust.

"My heart!" he exclaimed, when, work for the day being over, the monkey sat on a tub, happily feasting on biscuits and honey: "if 'tis wise looks do make a chancellor, sure the beast be the properest chancellor to your king, sir."

"You look pretty wise yourself, Amos," said Dennis, laughing. "We had resolved that the sovereignty of this island belongs to our lady Queen Bess; say then that I am her viceroy, and you my chamberlain; and for Mirandola, why, let us make him our jester."

Day followed day uneventfully. Dennis made a still more thorough exploration of the island in Turnpenny's company, and had his eyes opened to many things which had formerly escaped him. Passing the spot where he had saved Mirandola from the boa constrictor, he mentioned the incident, and remarked that he had seen no other reptiles in the course of his wanderings.

"'Tis because you knew not where to look," said Turnpenny. "The snakes in this new world be cunning; 'wise as serpents,' says the Scripture, and a true word. They dress their skins so as to look like the trees they live in; 'twould puzzle Solomon himself in all his wisdom and glory to say which is tree and which is the coil of a snake."