[Illustration: The Golden Hind.]
Meanwhile like disaster had befallen the _Golden Hind_, the cable
snapping weak as thread against the drive of tide and wind. Only the
_Elizabeth_ kept her anchor grip, and her crew became so
panic-stricken, they only waited till the storm abated, then turned
back through the straits, swift heels to the stormy, ill-fated sea, and
steered straight for England, where they moored in June. Towed by the
_Golden Hind_, now driving southward before the tempest, was a
jolly-boat with eight men. The mountain seas finally wrenched the
tow-rope from the big ship, and the men were adrift in the open boat.
Their fortunes are a story in itself. Only one of the eight survived
to reach England after nine years' wandering in Brazil.[6]
Onward, sails furled, bare poles straining to the storm, drifted Drake
in the _Golden Hind_. Luck, that so often favors daring, or the
courage, that is its own talisman, kept him from the rocks. With
battened hatches he drove before what he could not {153} stem,
southward and south, clear down where Atlantic and Pacific met at Cape
Horn, now for the first time seen by navigator.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202