reat captains.

Then Amyas went on to tell the rest of his story; the setting sail from
St. John's to discover the southward coast; Sir Humphrey's chivalrous
determination to go in the little Squirrel of only ten tons, and
"overcharged with nettings, fights, and small ordnance," not only
because she was more fit to examine the creeks, but because he had heard
of some taunt against him among the men, that he was afraid of the sea.

After that, woe on woe; how, seven days after they left Cape Raz, their
largest ship, the Delight, after she had "most part of the night" (I
quote Hayes), "like the swan that singeth before her death, continued in
sounding of trumpets, drums, and fifes, also winding of the comets and
hautboys, and, in the end of their jollity, left off with the battle and
doleful knells," struck the next day (the Golden Hind and the Squirrel
sheering off just in time) upon unknown shoals; where were lost all but
fourteen, and among them Frank's philosopher friend, poor Budaeus; and
those who escaped, after all horrors of cold and famine, were cast on
shore in Newfoundland. How, worn out with hunger and want of clothes,
the crews of the two remaining ships persuaded Sir Humphrey to sail
toward England on the 31st of August; and on "that very instant, even in
winding about," beheld close alongside "a very lion in shape, hair, and
color, not swimming, but sliding on the water, with his whole body; who
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 (coming right against the Hind) he sent forth a horrible voice,
roaring or bellowing as doth a lion." "What opinion others had thereof,
and chiefly the general himself, I forbear to deliver; but he took it
for bonum omen, rejoicing that he was to war against such an enemy, if
it were the devil."

"And the devil it was, doubtless," said Adrian, "the roaring lion who
goes about seeking whom he may devour."

"He has not got your brother, at least," quoth Amyas.

"No," rejoined Mrs. Hawkins (smile not, reader, for those were days in
which men believed in the devil); "he roared for joy to think how many
poor souls would be left still in heathen darkness by Sir Humphrey's
death. God be with that good knight, and send all mariners where he is
now!"

Then Amyas told the last scene; how, when they were off the Azores, the
storms came on heavier than ever, with "terrible seas