After calling at Madeira and the De Verde Islands for provisions and necessaries, he set sail for Madagascar, then a rendezvous of the Indian Ocean pirates. After cruising on that and the Malabar coasts, where he was not at first successful in meeting with any of the pirate vessels, he touched at a place called Mabbee, on the Red Sea, where he helped himself to a quantity of the natives’ corn, without offering payment. Hitherto he had acted strictly in his capacity as a legalised privateer, but he now began to show his true colours. The Mocha fleet was expected shortly to pass that way, and when he proposed to his crew that they should attack it, one and all agreed. He thereupon sent a well-manned boat to reconnoitre, which returned in a few days with the news that there were fourteen or fifteen ships about to sail. It will be understood that the Mocha fleet had nothing to do with American pirates, but was a commercial fleet, in this case consisting of English, Dutch, and Moorish vessels, convoyed by a vessel or vessels of war, in the fashion of those days. The man at the masthead soon announced its approach, and Kidd, getting into the midst of the vessels, fired briskly at a Moorish ship. Two men-of-war, however, bore down upon him, and knowing he was not a match for them, Kidd reluctantly put on all sail, and ran away. Shortly afterwards he took a small vessel belonging to Moorish owners, the master being an Englishman, whom he forced into his service as pilot. He used the men brutally, having them hoisted by the arms and drubbed with a cutlass, to find out whether or no any valuables were on board. As there was next to nothing to be found, he seized some quantity of coffee and pepper, and let the vessel go. When he touched shortly afterwards at a Moorish port, he found that he was suspected, and soon after this he discovered that many places along the coast had become alarmed. A Portuguese man-of-war was despatched after him, and met him; he fought her gallantly for about six hours, when he again became convinced that prudence, in his case, was the better part of valour, and made good his escape.