'Yet he is an indifferent good sea-captain, Sergeant,' said I.
'Yes, sir; too good, greatly too good,' said Culverin. 'Few men, look you, have been born with such soldiership. See, now, the care he bestows in fortifying his camp, after the true manner of Julius Cæsar, and yet he has never read a word of the Commentaries. It is there he shows it. For, saving your wisdom, your true soldiership is not valour, as many think. Valiant blades we have in plenty in every land. Your great soldier must know what to fear and when to fear, and so guard himself. To fear valiantly is your philosopher's stone of victory. Take that of me, sir.'
I think we were all of Sergeant Culverin's opinion, except perhaps Mr. Oxenham. He was ever a reckless man who could not fear anything, and so, as all men know, was afterwards brought to his evil end on a Spanish gallows. But the rest of us were glad to see what care our general took that we should pass our five months in safety, and above all the Cimaroons, who saw in our preparations a sure token that we were resolved to stand by them.
Nor did they leave us without testimony of their satisfaction. It was like fairyland to see how a little town built of Palmito boughs rose up as if by magic upon our island, with fair houses for all our company; and afterwards they so laboured at our fort that in two weeks the ordnance and artillery were all in position within it, and Frank was free to depart in search of victuals and intelligence.
On the 7th of October he bid us farewell amidst a merry burst from our music, and bore away for Carthagena, leaving his brother John as governor of the fort over those who were left behind. Both Harry and I remained to assist him in governing the Cimaroons and completing our works. Had we but known the sorrow that was to come on us ere those two pinnaces returned, I think our parting would have been less blithe. But as it was we feared nothing; for our exploit at Nombre de Dios and all that had followed, no less than the constant report we had from the Cimaroons and our prisoners of the terror we had created, had bred in us a sort of reckless courage, as well as a laughing contempt for our enemies, which made us think that no attempt was too hard for us.
I cannot wonder at it or blame any for their overweening confidence, seeing what our handful of unknown mariners had done against the mighty power of the King of Spain. Surely never had folly, for I hold contempt of a brave enemy no less, a better excuse. Would it had had a lighter punishment!
It was on this wise that it came about. At the Cativaas Islands, some five leagues away from our fort, was a frigate laden with planks. She was a prize Frank's pinnaces had taken in the Rio Grande and left there till she should be wanted. But in a storm she was driven hard ashore and now lay disabled. Out of tenderness for his ordnance and crew Frank ordered that our first care should be to fetch away her timbers and planks, to make platforms for the former and good huts for the latter.
For the rains still continued. The island was a slough of mire wherever we worked, and the bowers which the Cimaroons made us hardly availed to keep out the deluge of rain that fell every day. Therefore as soon as Frank was gone we set about our work, John Drake going himself to order the matter in the pinnace called Lion. I went with him and about half a crew besides.
It was the second afternoon after Frank's departure that we were returning to our fort with a load of planks, when we descried a deep-laden frigate making for Nombre de Dios.
'Will you not attempt her, Captain John?' said one of the men, a quartermaster called Allen.