n_,
or _Golden Hinde_, which belonged to Drake himself, was called but 120
tons, at best no larger than a modern racing yawl, though perhaps no
racing yawl ever left White's yard better found for the work which she
had to do. The next, the _Elizabeth_, of London, was said to be eighty
tons; a small pinnace of twelve tons, in which we should hardly risk a
summer cruise round the Land's End, with two sloops or frigates of fifty
and thirty tons, made the rest. The _Elizabeth_ was commanded by Captain
Winter, a Queen's officer, and perhaps a son of the old admiral.

We may credit Drake with knowing what he was about. He and his comrades
were carrying their lives in their hands. If they were taken they would
be inevitably hanged. Their safety depended on speed of sailing, and
specially on the power of working fast to windward, which the heavy
square-rigged ships could not do. The crews all told were 160 men and
boys. Drake had his brother John with him. Among his officers were the
chaplain, Mr. Fletcher, another minister of some kind who spoke Spanish,
and in one of the sloops a mysterious Mr. Doughty. Who Mr. Doughty was,
and why he was sent out, is uncertain. When an expedition of consequence
was on hand, the Spanish party in the Cabinet usually attached to it
some second in command whose business was to defeat the object. When
Drake went to Cadiz in after years to singe King Philip's beard, he had
a colleague sent with him whom he had to lock into his cabin before he
could get to his work. So far as I can make out, Mr. Doughty had a
similar commission. On this occasion secrecy was impossible. It was
generally known that Drake was going to the Pacific through Magellan
Straits, to act afterwards on his own judgment. The Spanish ambassador,
now Don Bernardino de Mendoza, in informing Philip of what was intended,
advised him to send out orders for the instant sinking of every English
ship, and the execution of every English sailor, that appeared on either
side the isthmus in West Indian waters. The orders were despatched, but
so impossible it seemed that an English pirate could reach the Pacific,
that the attention was confined to the Caribbean Sea, and not a hint of
alarm was sent across to the other side.

On November 15, 1577, the _Pelican_ and her consort sailed out of
Plymouth Sound. The elements frowned on their start. On the second day
they were caught in a winter gale. The _Pelican_ sprung her mainmast,
and they put