They sailed from Plymouth on the 15th of November 1577, but a terrible storm off Falmouth obliged them to put back. They started afresh on the 13th of December, and were to meet at Mogadore, on the coast of Barbary. It seems that Burghley did not approve of Drake's bold venture, and had sent Thomas Doughtie, with secret orders to do what he could to limit the risks and scope of the expedition. Doughtie was a personal friend of Drake, and it was some time before Sir Francis found out what Doughtie was doing--such as tampering with the men and trying to lessen Drake's influence. When they were near the equator, Drake, being very careful of his men's health, let every man's blood with his own hands. In February they made the coast of Brazil, without losing touch of one another. Here they landed and saw "great store of large and mighty deer." They also found places for drying the flesh of the nandu, or American ostrich, whose thighs were as large as "reasonable legs of mutton." Further south they stored seal-flesh, having slain over two hundred in the space of an hour! The natives whom they saw were naked, saving only that they wore the skin of some beast about their waist. They carried bows an ell long, and two arrows, and were painted white on one side and black on the other. They were a tall, merry race; delighted in the sound of the trumpet, and danced with the sailors. One of them, seeing the men take their morning draught, took a glass of strong Canary wine and tossed it off; but it immediately went to his head, and he fell on his back. However, the savage took such a liking to the draught that he used to come down from the hills every morning, bellowing "Wine! wine!" A few days later there was a scuffle at Port Julian with the natives, and Robert Winter was killed. But a greater tragedy was impending. Sixty years before, Magellan had crushed a mutiny on this spot, and the old fir-posts that formed the gallows still stood out on the windy headland. For some months now Drake had been harassed by mutinous conduct, and all the evidence pointed to his old friend Doughtie being at the bottom of it. One day Drake, in a sudden burst of wrath, had ordered Doughtie to be chained to the mast. Yet, as the ships rode south into the cold winds, the crews murmured more savagely. Doughtie and his friends were demoralising Captain John Winter's ship. Something must be done, and done quickly, if the expedition was not to fail.