“On April 17, 1680, the buccaneers embarked in thirty-six canoes and slipping down river with the ebb tide entered the great Gulf of San Miguel. Soon the party became separated, and Ringrose’s canoe was wrecked. Without food or clothing other than the few rags on their bodies and with no shoes on their feet, the buccaneers set forth afoot. By good fortune they met Indians, secured canoes, and, sending their prisoners back free, they continued on their way. The very next night, seeing fires on shore, the weary fellows thought they had found their missing comrades and hastily landed, only to fall into the hands of a party of Spaniards. But here the humane actions of the buccaneers were rewarded. The Dons, learning who their captives were, and hearing from a prisoner how the British had saved them from massacre by the Indians, fed and clothed the buccaneers and gave them their liberty. “The next morning, to every one’s unspeakable delight, the other parties were met. Several small sailboats were also captured, and now, once more well equipped and confident, the entire party gathered at Chepillo Island and prepared for their descent on Panama, about thirty miles distant. And here, too, the buccaneers suddenly, for ‘reasons which I can not dive into,’ as Ringrose puts it, threw aside their former humanity and ordered the Indians to butcher the few remaining Spanish prisoners. Luckily, the captives managed to escape, however, and only one was killed. Rowing stealthily along the shores under cover of the night, and drenched by torrential rains, the buccaneers came at dawn within sight of the city to find two great ships and three smaller men-of-war anchored in the bay and ready to resist the buccaneers. Here were unexpected troubles. They had counted on taking the place by surprise, on being led into the city by a captive whose life they had saved, and, instead, their presence was known and five powerful armed ships swarming with Spaniards were prepared for them. And, to make matters worse, a large part of their men were absent. During the night and the storm they had become separated, the largest of the boats, in command of Captain Sharp, had put into outlying islands for water, and the heavier piraguas were far astern of the lighter canoes. These, five in number and with one piragua, contained but sixty-eight out of the three hundred odd buccaneers, and these were weary with their long row and in no condition to fight. But there was no time for indecision. The three Spanish war vessels were already bearing down upon the buccaneers, and although so near that Ringrose says they feared they would be run down, yet the English fell to their oars and, pulling desperately into the wind, evaded the Dons’ ships and got to windward. Realizing that the sooner they struck the better, the buccaneers turned their boats and, pulling directly towards the huge Spanish ships, picked off the helmsmen and the gunners with their muskets. With their