On seeing this, in their nautical or national confidence on the sea, the English crew again believed that now Wood was about to grapple with them, and natheless his superior size, they had no doubt of being able to engage and retain him valiantly until the _Harry_, which was a mile astern, came up. Though it was an age in which navigation was destitute of many modern inventions and appliances, Wood was as famous for the skilful manner in which he handled his ship as for the bravery with which he fought her, for under his orders, her vast hull, with its towering rigging and cloud of sail, was like a toy. Thus, after a few manoeuvres, the _Cressi_ lay to, and continued firing briskly at the _Yellow Frigate_, which her crew believed was about to run alongside; but in rounding to, her captain, though a brave mariner, had given Wood the advantage of the wind, and while her crew poured in their missiles, cannon and arquebuse-shot, with those clothyard shafts so famed in English war, Barton suddenly put the helm hard up, at a sign from the Admiral, who cried with the voice of a stentor,-- "Yeomen of the braces and bowlines, let go! slack off your sheets and tacks,---yare, my hearts,--yare, and square the yards." It was all the work of a moment; the blocks creaked, the cordage whistled, the canvas flapped heavily, and filled again, at the tremendous bow of the Scottish caravel was suddenly brought to bear directly upon the broadside of the _Cressi_, whose captain had no time to fill his yards or forge ahead again, for dire confusion and dismay pervaded his crowded decks, from which a hundred mingled cries of rage, wonder, and defiance arose. And there she lay, in the deep valley formed by the long-swelling waves, while her crew bravely fired their culverins at the _Yellow Frigate_, which bore down under a cloud of canvas, looming like the shadow of death between them and the brilliant moon. On, on she glided, almost noiselessly. One wave alone separated them! Then down she came thundering with her iron beak upon the enemy's vessel, striking her right amidships. The wild shriek of rage that rose on one side was mingled with a shout of triumph on the other. The _Yellow Frigate_ scarcely felt the shock, as she rode over the low waist, and crashed through the torn rigging of the _Cressi_, the lofty poop and forecastle of which fell inwards, as the hull was cloven in two, and sunk for ever into that brilliant sea, the vortex of which sucked down two hundred gallant men. "For God's love, Sir Andrew, lower the boats," cried Falconer, looking into the foam-covered whirlpool, where a few spars and casks, with an occasional head or a hand, were rising and sinking. "Impossible--even our pinnace would sink with her; but God sain them," said the old Admiral; "there hath gone down many a brave fellow, who will never more lift tack or sheet in this world!"