Captain Shelvocke ignored these odds, and held on after the ship until a four-hour chase brought him within a few hundred feet of her, so near that the Spanish sailors could be heard calling them English dogs and defying them to come on board. Along with the curses flew a volley of great and small shot, which killed the _Recovery’s_ gunner and almost carried away her foremast. So warm a reception staggered many of Captain Shelvocke’s men and those who before seemed the most forward now lay upon their oars, insomuch that he had difficulty to make them keep their way. But recovering themselves, they rowed up and engaged the enemy until all their small shot was expended, which done they fell astern to whittle more leaden slugs. In this manner they made three attempts, all equally unsuccessful; and they found it impossible to board the ship, she was so lofty, especially from the want of pistols and cutlasses which are the only weapons for close fighting. It was calm the whole night during which the people of the _Recovery_ were busy making slugs, and having provided a great quantity against morning, they came to the desperate resolution of either carrying the ship or of submitting to her. At daybreak Captain Shelvocke ordered twenty men into the yawl to lay athwart the ship’s hawse whilst he boarded in the dark. The people in the boat put off, giving him repeated assurances of their determination; but just at this very juncture of coming to action, a breeze sprung up and the ship gained on them. As the gale freshened, the captain expected the ship would have run him down, which she could have easily done; however, she bore away, probably for some port on the coast, Valparaiso or Coquimbo. The _Recovery_ chased her all that day and the following night, and at daylight of the succeeding morning saw her close to the land and she continued her course along shore until out of sight. With several officers and men wounded, the errant little bark wandered northward, raiding the coast for provisions and riding out one gale after another, until another large ship was encountered. This was the stately merchantman, _St. Francisco Palacio_ of seven hundred tons. By way of comparison, Captain Shelvocke estimated his bark as measuring about twenty tons. The _Recovery_ rowed up to her in a calm and fought her for six hours, when the sea roughened, and there was no hope of closing in. It was a grievous disappointment, for the _St. Francisco Palacio_ was so deeply laden with rich merchandise that as she rolled the water ran through her scuppers across the upper deck, and her poop towered like a wooden castle.