But here, at any rate, was one spot not yet haunted by the Spanish
spectre.
The Indians, persuaded at last that the white chief was not a god,
insisted on making him their King. They crowned him with a headdress of
brilliant feathers, in all due ceremony, hung a chain of beads about his
neck, and looked on with the utmost reverence while Drake fixed to a
large upright post a tablet claiming the land for the Queen of England,
and a silver sixpence with the portrait of Elizabeth and the Tudor rose.
Securely hidden under the tablet in a hollow of the wood were memoranda
concerning the direction in which, according to the Indians, gold was to
be found in the streams,--plenty of gold. When she was ready to the last
rope's end the little ship spread her wings and sailed straight across
the Pacific, round the Cape of Good Hope, home to England.
Battered and scarred but still seaworthy the _Golden Hynde_ crept into
Plymouth Sound, where Drake heard that the plague was in the seaport.
Using this for excuse not to land until he knew his footing, he anchored
behind Saint Nicholas Island and sent letters to Court.
The sea-dogs who patrolled the Narrow Seas in Elizabeth's time
understood her better than her courtiers did. To Drake she was still the
keen-minded woman who, like the jeweled silent birds he had seen in
tropical jungles, sat in her palace, with enemies all about her alert
and observant, and ready to seize her if she came within their grasp.
Pages:
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284