chests of reals and a few bales of silk and linen.

But

a thirteenth, called the Cacafuego, had sailed a few days before for the Isthmus with the whole produce of the Lima mines for the season. Her ballast was silver, her cargo gold and emeralds and rubies.

Drake deliberately cut the cables of the ships in the roads, that they might drive ashore and be unable to follow him. The Pelican spread her wings, every feather of them, and sped away in pursuit. He would know the Cacafuego, so he learnt at Lima, by the peculiar cut of her sails. The first man who caught sight of her was promised a gold chain for his reward. A sail was seen on the second day. It was not the chase, but it was worth stopping for. Eighty pounds' weight of gold was found, and a great gold crucifix, set with emeralds said to be as large as pigeons' eggs.

We learn from the Spanish accounts that the Viceroy of Lima, as soon as he recovered from his astonishment, despatched ships in pursuit. They came up with the last plundered vessel, heard terrible tales of the rovers' strength, and went back for a larger force. The Pelican meanwhile went along upon her course for eight hundred miles. At length, off Quito, and close under the shore, the Cacafuego's peculiar sails were sighted, and the gold chain was claimed. There she was, going lazily along a few miles ahead. Care was needed in approaching her. If she guessed the Pelican's character, she would run in upon the land and they would lose her. It was afternoon. The sun was still above the horizon, and Drake meant to wait till night, when the breeze would be off the shore, as in the tropics it always is.

The Pelican sailed two feet to the Cacafuego's one.

Drake filled his empty wine-skins with water and trailed them astern to stop his way. The chase supposed that she was followed by some heavily-loaded trader, and, wishing for company on a lonely voyage, she slackened sail, and waited for him to come up. At length the sun went down into the ocean, the rosy light faded from off the snows of the Andes; and when both ships had become invisible from the shore, the skins were hauled in, the night wind rose, and the water began to ripple under the Pelican's bows. The Cacafuego was swiftly overtaken, and when within a cable's length a voice hailed her to put her head into the wind. The Spanish commander, not understanding so strange an order, held on his course. A broadside brought down his mainyard, and a flight of arrows rattled on his deck. He was himself wounded. In a few minutes he was a prisoner, and the ship and her precious freight were in the corsair's power. The wreck was cut away; the ship was cleared; a prize crew was put on board. Both vessels turned their heads to the sea. At daybreak no land was to be seen, and the examination of the prize began. The full value was never acknowledged. The invoice, if there was one, was destroyed. The accurate figures were known only to Drake and Queen Elizabeth. A published schedule acknowledged to twenty tons of silver bullion, thirteen chests of silver coins, and a hundredweight of gold, but there were gold nuggets besides in indefinite quantity, and "a great store" of pearls, emeralds and diamonds. The Spanish Government proved a loss of a million and a half of ducats, excluding what belonged to private persons. The total capture was immeasurably greater.

Drake, we are told, was greatly satisfied. He thought it prudent to stay in the neighbourhood no longer than necessary. He went north with all sail set, taking his prize along with him. The master, San Juan de Anton, was removed on board the Pelican, to have his wound attended to. He remained as Drake's guest for a week, and sent in a report of what he observed to the Spanish Government. One at least of Drake's party spoke excellent Spanish. This person took San Juan over the ship. She showed signs, San Juan said, of rough service, but was still in fine condition, with ample arms, spare rope, mattocks, carpenters' tools of all descriptions. There were eighty-five men on board all told, fifty of them men of war, the rest young fellows, ship-boys, and the like. Drake himself was treated with great reverence; a sentinel stood always at his cabin door. He dined alone with music.

The Pelican met with many other adventures, and at last sailed for home. Sweeping in fine clear weather round the Cape of Good Hope, she touched once for water at Sierra Leone, and finally sailed in triumph into Plymouth Harbour, where she had been long given up for lost, having traced the first furrow round the globe.

English sympathy with an extraordinary exploit is always irresistible. Shouts of applause rang through the country; and Elizabeth, every bit of her an Englishwoman, felt with her subjects. She sent for Drake to London, made him tell his story over and over again, and was never weary of listening to him.

From "English Seamen in the Sixteenth Century," by J. A. FROUDE.

Magellan. A famous navigator in the service of Charles V. of Spain. He discovered the strait bearing his name, and entered the Pacific. His ship was the first to sail round the world, though he himself did not live to complete the voyage.

By the Horn. That is, by the south of South America. Drake himself was the discoverer of the Horn.

Yawl. A kind of yacht. It has a

a small mizzen-mast carrying a
spanker.

The old admiral. Sir William
Winter, a well-known seaman
in the service of Elizabeth.
Sprung. Cracked.

The peaceful ocean.

The Pacific;

so named by Magellan. Ducat. A coin worth from three to four shillings. It received its name from being originally struck in a duchy (Latin, ducatus).

foremast rigged like a cutter, and | Real. A small Spanish coin.

COMPOSITION.-Write an account of Drake's adventures in the Pacific Ocean,

LESSON 2.

FERNHALL v. LOAMSHIRE.

"I KNOW all that, but I've made up my mind," replied the young autocrat. "I shall play a man short, if I can't persuade Trout" (an irreverent name for their head-master) "to let Snap Hales off in time."

When a captain of a school eleven says that he has made up his mind, the intervention of any one less than a head-master is useless, so that no one protested.

It was a one-day match: the school had made only 156, while the county had only two wickets down for 93; of course, there was no chance of a second innings ; the two best bats in Loamshire seemed set for a century apiece; Poynter had lost his temper and seemed trying rather to hurt his men than to bowl them, and one else had been tried and had failed.

every

Just

What was an unfortunate captain to do? then a figure in a long cassock and college cap, a fine portly figure with a kindly face, turned round, and, using the back of a trembling small boy for a desk,