The expanse of calm waters seemed so pleasant after the heavy tiring storms that he called the still waters before him the Pacific Ocean. Before following him across the unknown waters, let us recall the quaint lines of Camoens—

"Along these regions, from the burning zone
To deepest south, he dares the course unknown.
A land of giants shall his eyes behold,
Of camel strength, surpassing human mould;
And, onward still, thy fame his proud heart's guide,
Beneath the southern stars' cold gleam he braves
And stems the whirls of land-surrounded waves,
For ever sacred to the hero's fame,
These foaming straits shall bear his deathless name.
Through these dread jaws of rock he presses on
Another ocean's breast, immense, unknown,
Beneath the south's cold wings, unmeasur'd, wide,
Received his vessels, through the dreary tide,
In darkling shades, where never man before
Heard the waves howl, he dares the nameless shore."

Three little ships had now emerged, battered and worn, manned by crews gaunt and thin and shivering. Magellan took a northerly course to avoid the intense cold, before turning to cross the strange obscure ocean, which no European had yet realised. Just before Christmas the course was altered and the ships were turned to the north-west, in which direction they expected soon to find the Spice Islands. No one had any idea of the vastness of the Pacific Ocean.

"HONDIUS HIS MAP OF THE MAGELLAN STREIGHT."
From a map by Jodocus Hondius, about 1590. It gives a particularly clear picture of the ideas held by the age following Magellan's discovery of the land which, it was supposed, enveloped the southern point of South America.

"Well was it named the Pacific," remarks the historian, "for during three months and twenty days we met with no storm."

Two months passed away, and still they sailed peacefully on, day after day, week after week, across a waste of desolate waters.

"Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide, wide sea."

At last one January day they sighted a small wooded island, but it was uninhabited; they named it S. Paul's Island and passed on their way. They had expected to find the shores of Asia close by those of America. The size of the world was astounding. Another island was passed. Again no people, no consolation, only many sharks. There was bitter disappointment on board. They had little food left. "We ate biscuit, but in truth it was biscuit no longer, but a powder full of worms. So great was the want of food that we were forced to eat the hides with which the main yard was covered to prevent the chafing against the rigging. These hides we exposed to the sun first to soften them by putting them overboard for four or five days, after which we put them on the embers and ate them thus. We had also to make use of sawdust for food, and rats became a great delicacy." No wonder scurvy broke out in its worst form—nineteen died and thirteen lay too ill to work.