Then in 1573 he sailed from Plymouth with five little ships to carry fire and sword into the South Seas, where the flag of England had never been before. When he had captured some ships near the Cape de Verde Islands, he was fifty-four days in unknown waters before he sighted the Brazils, then after a long time came to Magellan’s Straits, where he put in to refresh his men. One of the captains had been unfaithful and was now tried by a court-martial, which found him guilty of mutiny and treason against the admiral. Drake offered him a ship to return to England and throw himself on the queen’s mercy, or he might land and take his chance among the savages, or he could have his death, and carry his case to the Almighty. The prisoner would not rob the expedition of a ship, nor would he consort with the degraded tribes of that wild Land of Fire, but asked that he might die at the hands of his countrymen because of the wrong he had done them. So the date was set for his execution, when all the officers received the holy communion, the prisoner kneeling beside the admiral. After that they dined together for the last time, and when they had risen from table, shook hands at parting, the one to his death, the others to their voyage. May England ever breed such gentlemen! The squadron had barely got clear of the straits and gained the Pacific Ocean, when bad weather scattered all the ships. Drake went on alone, and on the coast of Chili, met with an Indian in a canoe, who had news of a galleon at Santiago, laden with gold from Peru. The Spaniards were not at all prepared for birds of Drake’s feather on the South Seas, so that when he dropped in at Santiago they were equally surprised and annoyed. The galleon’s crew were ashore save for six Spaniards and three negroes, so bored with themselves that they welcomed the visitors by beating a drum and setting out Chilian wine. But when Master Moon arrived on board with a boat’s crew, he laid about him outrageously with a large sword, saying, “Down, dog!” to each discomfited Spaniard, until they fled for the hold. Only one leaped overboard, who warned the town, whereat the people escaped to the bush, leaving the visitors to enjoy themselves. The cargo of gold and wine must have been worth about fifty thousand pounds, while Santiago yielded a deal of good cheer besides, Master Fletcher, the parson, getting for his “spoyle” a silver chalice, two cruets and an altar cloth. [Illustration: SIR FRANCIS DRAKE]