It was Saturday, the 31st of August, when they changed their course, and at the very instant when they were turning there passed along towards the land which they were forsaking "a marvellous creature, like a lion in shape, hair, and colour, not swimming after the manner of a beast, but rather sliding upon the surface, with all his body exposed except the legs. Thus he passed along, turning his head to and fro, yawning and gaping wide, with ugly demonstration of long teeth and glaring eyes: and, to bid us farewell, he sent forth a horrible voice, roaring as doth a lion; which spectacle we all beheld so far as we were able to discern the same, as men prone to wonder at every strange thing, as this doubtless was, to see a lion in the ocean sea, or fish in shape of a lion. The General took it for a Bonum Omen, rejoicing that he was to warre against such an enemie, if it were the devil." On Monday Sir Humphrey went aboard the _Golden Hind_ to have the surgeon dress his foot, which he had hurt by treading on a nail. He was merry enough, and they comforted one another with hope of hard toil being all past, and of the good hap that was coming. They agreed all to carry lights always by night that they might the better keep together. But when they begged Sir Humphrey to stay aboard the larger vessel, he laughed and shook his head and rowed back to the _Squirrel_. Immediately after followed a sharp storm which they weathered with some difficulty; then, the weather being fair again, the General (as they called him) came aboard the _Hind_ again, and made merry with the captain, master, and company, continuing there from morning until night. This was their last meeting, and sundry discourses were made touching affairs past and to come: but Sir Humphrey lamented sore the loss of his great ship, and of the men, and most of all of his books and notes; for which he seemed out of measure grieved: so that the chronicler deemed he must be sorrowing over the loss of his silver ore. But Sir Humphrey's great soul was above such trash. He had seen enough in Newfoundland to know that its possession by England would be a jewel in the Queen's crown beyond all price. This was his second failure, not from any fault of his, but he doubtless feared that God was wroth with him for some fault of temper. For faults of temper he had, and confessed the same, saying: "Do ye mind when I sent my boy aboard the _Delight_ to fetch some charts and papers before she had gone on the rocks?" "Aye, aye, General; 'twas when we were becalmed off Newfoundland, near unto Cape Race." "I be wondrous sorry now that I beat the lad so grievously in my great rage; but he had forgotten to bring the chief thing I wanted."