The Indians were averse to proceeding farther, and most of them receiving presents of knives, scissors, and axes, returned home. Nevertheless, Emperor Andrés and King Antonio Golden-cap determined to go on to Panamá and see the end of this display of European savagism and be present at the sack of the city. Andrés indeed promised, if necessary, to raise an army fifty thousand strong to assist in the work. Additional encouragement was afforded by the Spaniard who had abducted the chief's daughter, and who volunteered, in consideration of being protected from the just revenge of the Indians, to conduct them not only to Panamá, but to the very chamber-door of the governor, when they might seize him and make themselves masters of the city before they could be discovered.

After holding Santa María for two days, the victors took their departure on April 17th, first burning the fort, church, and town to gratify the rancor of the Indian chief. They then embarked on board thirty-five canoes and a piragua,[XXIX‑16] which last was captured while lying at anchor in the river, and dropped down toward the gulf of San Miguel, whence they could gain Panamá Bay. The Spaniards begged hard to be allowed to go with them, rather than be left to the mercy of the Indians.

It was with the greatest difficulty that the freebooters had secured canoes enough for themselves, as their Indian allies had taken so many in their retreat; yet the terrified Spaniards managed to find a few old boats and construct a few rafts, and so ventured to accompany them.

In the Santa María River the ebb and flow of the tide is remarkable, and at night the navigation is extremely hazardous, many shoals and channels being encountered at low water. Still, having good native pilots on board, the flotilla paddled down on the ebb until midnight, when a native embarcadero was reached, and it was decided to land and fill the water-vessels, the river water being salt, and none suitable for drinking likely to be met with for several days. At the landing-place Captain Sawkins was found awaiting them. He had failed to overtake the governor, who had by that time made good his escape to the open bay. The canoes were then hauled ashore for the night, as there was too much risk in continuing the voyage down the estuary at that hour. Next morning they again got under way and proceeded down the river, finding two mouths by which they could reach the sea, one of them being deep and flowing out with a swift current.

About noon the sea was sighted, and shortly afterward the pirates landed on a small island, where the governor in his flight had left two women, in order to lighten his canoe. On this island the party remained waiting for the next ebb, when they crossed to another isle two leagues away, making land just before nightfall. Here were found two canoes, with some bows and arrows, which were destroyed; their owners were also seen, but managed to elude capture. Camp was then pitched, and Captain Sawkins once more despatched in chase of the governor, with orders to await their arrival at Plantain Island, whether successful or not. The following day, while continuing the voyage, a severe squall struck them, the wind freshening from the seaward and meeting the ebb. One canoe, manned by seven Frenchmen, capsized; the crew was rescued with difficulty, and after the loss of all their arms.[XXIX‑17] A heavy rain-storm followed, and compelled them to run for shelter into a sandy bay, where the canoes were beached, and the tired rovers took up their quarters for the night.

Meanwhile, on the evacuation of Santa María, one canoe was left a long way astern, being heavy and manned by five men only. It was under the command of Basil Ringrose, the buccaneer historian, who afterward gave the world so faithful a narrative of the exploits in which he took part.

ADVENTURE OF RINGROSE.

Ringrose had no Indian in his canoe to pilot him; so as the tide ran out and many shoals were exposed, he entered the wrong channel, and ran two miles inside a shoal before discovering the mistake. There he was obliged to lie until high tide, when he proceeded in hopes of overtaking the other boats. That night at low water he moored the canoe to an oar stuck in the sand, and the men took turns at sleeping; at dawn they rowed two leagues farther and came up with the main body as they were just putting off from the watering-place. As it was absolutely necessary to water there they went ashore with their calabashes, and on regaining the river-side found the flotilla was once more out of sight. They rowed in chase as hard as they could, but became bewildered among the numerous islands near the mouth of the river, and so again lost their way. At length they hit upon the Boca Chica, but by that time the tide was running in with great force, and finding that they could make no way against it, beached the canoe and made it fast to a tree, awaiting the turn of the tide which rose there upward of twenty feet.

As soon as practicable they pulled away to an island outside the mouth of the river, in the gulf of San Miguel, narrowly escaping being swamped, and passed the night in the utmost misery, drenched with rain, and not daring to light a fire. Next morning at daybreak, April 19th, they once more launched the canoe and shaped their course for Point San Lorenzo, but as the boat neared one of the many islands of the gulf a heavy sea overturned it and they had to swim for their lives. Happily all made the shore in safety, and immediately afterward the canoe was cast up high and dry. Their cartouch-boxes and powder-horns being made water-tight, and lashed with their arms to the canoe, were preserved, but all their provisions and water were spoiled. It soon appeared that they were not alone in misfortune. A party of six Spaniards, lately their prisoners, had been washed ashore from their broken boat, in worse plight than Ringrose's party. Their common fate united the castaways, and Spaniard and Englishman ate their meal in peace over the same camp-fire.

A KIND ACT REWARDED.