fortune hee fell into the bunt of the sayle, where, quickly catching hold of a rope, he (being a very strong man) had almost gotten into the ship againe, which John Cooke perceiving leaped speedily to the pumpe and tooke off the pumpe brake or handle and cast it to William Ling, bidding him knocke him downe, which he was not long in doing, but, lifting up the woodden weapon, he gave him such a palt on the pate as made his braines forsake the possession of his head, with which his body fell into the sea." The corsair slave-dealers were overpowered. The four English youths drove them "from place to place in the ship, and having coursed them from the poope to the forecastle, they there valiantly killed two of them, and gave another a dangerous wound or two, who, to escape the further fury of their swords, leap'd suddenly over-boord to goe seeke his captaine." The other nine Turks ran between-decks, where they were securely fastened. The English now directed their course to St. Lucas, in Spain, and "in short time (by Gods ayde) happily and safely arrived at the said port, _where they sold the nine Turkes for gally-slaves for a good summe of money, and, as I thinke, a great deale more then they were worth_." "He that shall attribute such things as these to the arme of flesh and bloud," says the ancient historian, grateful for this triumph of freedom, "is forgetfull, ingratefull, and in a manner atheisticall."[81] [81] Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. pp. 887, 888. From the same authority I draw another narrative of singular success the following year. A company of Englishmen, being captured and carried into Algiers, were sold as slaves. These are the words of one of their number: "_The souldiers hurried us like dogs into the market, where as men sell hacknies in England we were tossed up and downe to see who would give most for us; and although we had heavy hearts and looked with sad countenances, yet many came to behold us, sometimes taking us by the hand, sometime turning us round about, sometimes feeling our brawnes_ _and naked armes, and so beholding our prices written in our breasts, they bargained for us accordingly, and at last we were all sold._" Shortly afterward several were put on board an Algerine corsair. One of them, John Rawlins, who resembled Cervantes in the hardihood of his exertions for freedom,--as, like him, he had lost the use of a hand,--arranged an uprising on board. "'Oh hellish slaverie,'" he said, "'to be thus subject to dogs! Oh, God strengthen my heart and hand, and something shall be done to ease us of these mischiefes, and deliver us from these cruell Mahumetan dogs.' The other slaves, pittying his distraction (as they thought), bad him speake softly, lest they should all fare the worse for his distemperature. 'The worse,' (quoth Rawlins,) 'what can be worse? I will either attempt my deliverance at one time or another, or perish in the enterprise.'" Seizing an auspicious moment, nine English slaves, besides John