rdingly drawn his company aside to allow the food
mules to get ahead of him. As soon as the noise upon the road advised
him that the enemy had made their spring, he withdrew quietly towards
Panama. "Thus," says the narrative, "we were disappointed of a most rich
booty: which is to be though God would not should be taken, for that, by
all likelihood, it was well gotten by that Treasurer."

We are not told what happened to Robert Pike, but it is probable that he
had a bad five minutes when the muleteer's story reached the sailors. It
was bad enough to have marched all day under a broiling sun, and to lose
a royal fortune at the end; but that was not all, nor nearly all: they
were now discovered to the enemy, who lay in considerable force in their
front and rear. They were wearied out with marching, yet they knew very
well that unless they "shifted for themselves betimes" all the
Spaniards of Panama would be upon them. They had a bare two or three
hours' grace in which to secure themselves. They had marched four
leagues that night, and by marching back those same four leagues they
might win to cover by the morning. If they marched forward they might
gain the forest in two leagues; but Venta Cruz lay in the road, and
Venta Cruz was guarded day and night by a company of Spanish troops. To
reach the forest by the latter road they would have to make a way with
their swords, but with men so tired and out of heart it seemed the
likelier route of the two. It was better, Drake thought, "to encounter
his enemies while he had strength remaining, than to be encountered or
chased when they should be worn out with weariness." He bade all hands
to eat and drink from the provisions found upon the mules, and while
they took their supper he told them what he had resolved to do. He
called upon Pedro, the Maroon, by name, asking "whether he would give
his hand not to forsake him." Pedro swore that he would rather die at
his feet than desert him in such a pass--a vow which assured Drake of
the loyalty of his allies. As soon as supper was over, he bade the men
mount upon the mules, so that they might not weary themselves with
marching. An hour's trot brought them to the woods within a mile of
Venta Cruz, where they dismounted, and went afoot, after bidding the
muleteers not to follow if they cared for whole skins. The road was here
some ten or twelve feet broad, "so as two Recuas may pass one by
another." It was paved with cobbles, which had be