arose the cloud was gone; the ships had sailed away. He was alone. The commander of the ships was Magellan. It was one of his monks who had placed the cross on shore. Landing in Cebu later, he converted two thousand of the natives in a day by destroying the statue of Vishnu and putting that of the child Jesus in its place, though he still yielded to savage opinion in so far as he consented to confirm his friendship with the king by a heathen ceremony, each opening a vein in his arm and drinking the blood of the other. As usual, the appearance and ways of the Europeans smote the natives with wonder. They described the strangers as enormous men with long noses, who dressed in fine robes, ate stones (ship-bread), drank fire from sticks (pipes), and breathed out the smoke, commanded thunder and lightning from metal tubes, and were gods. Engaging in a wrangle between two tribes, Magellan was lured into a marsh at Mactan, and there, while watching a battle to see how great the Filipinos could be in war, he was slain with bamboo lances sharpened and hardened in fire. Amambar's Christianity did not endure, for he so wearied of the oppression and rapacity of the strangers that when a successor to Magellan appeared he invited him to a banquet and slew him at his meat. But the cross and the statue of Christ worked miracles among the faithful for many generations. The Bedevilled Galleon "Sing hey, sing ho! The wind doth blow, And I'll meet my love in the morning," Sang the lookout, as he paced the forecastle of the galleon Rose of May, and peered about for signs of land against the dawn. Not that he expected to meet his love in the morning, nor for many mornings, but he had been up in his off-watch and was getting drowsy, so that he sang to keep himself awake. His was one of the first among the English ships to follow in Magellan's track. The Philippines, or the Manillas, as they were called, had been almost reached, and it was expected that Mindanao would be sighted at break of day off the starboard bow. "Hello, forward!" bawled the man at the helm. "Ay, ay!" sang the lookout. "What d'ye make o' yonder light?" "Light? What d'ye mean, man?" And the lookout rubbed his eyes, scanned the water close and far, and wondered if his sight was going out. "In the sky, o' course, ye bumble-brain." "Now, by the mass, you costard, you gave me a twist of the inwards with your lame joke." "'Tis no joke. Will you answer?" "Why, then, 'tis the daylight, in course, and you aiming for it that steady as to drive the nose of us straight agin the sun, give he comes up where he threats to. And he'll be here straightway, for in these waters he comes up as he were popped outen a cohorn." "The day! Heaven forefend! I'm holding her to the north." "You're holding due east. Aha! Look yonder, where the cloud is lifting. Land ho!" "Where away?" cried a mate, roused out of a forbidden doze by this talk, and blundering up to the roof of the after-castle.