of treasure, such as vicuna wool, packets of pearls
from the Hatch, jars of civet or of ambergris, boxes of "marmalett" and
spices, casks of strong drink, bales of silk, sacks of chocolate and
vanilla, and rolls of green cloth and pale blue cotton which the Indians
had woven in Peru, in some sandy village near the sea, in sight of the
pelicans and the penguins. In addition to all these things, they usually
had a number of the personal possessions of those they had taken on the
seas. Lying in the chests for subsequent division were swords,
silver-mounted pistols, daggers chased and inlaid, watches from Spain,
necklaces of uncut jewels, rings and bangles, heavy carved furniture,
"cases of bottles" of delicately cut green glass, containing cordials
distilled of precious mints, with packets of emeralds from Brazil,
bezoar stones from Patagonia, paintings from Spain, and medicinal gums
from Nicaragua. All these things were divided by lot at the main-mast as
soon as the anchor held. As the ship, or ships, neared port, her men
hung colours out--any colours they could find--to make their vessel gay.
A cup of drink was taken as they sailed slowly home to moorings, and as
they drank they fired off the cannon, "bullets and all," again and yet
again, rejoicing as the bullets struck the water. Up in the bay, the
ships in the harbour answered with salutes of cannon; flags were dipped
and hoisted in salute; and so the anchor dropped in some safe reach, and
the division of the spoil began.

[Illustration: OLD PORT ROYAL]

After the division of the spoil in the beautiful Port Royal harbour,
in sight of the palm-trees and the fort with the colours flying, the
buccaneers packed their gear, and dropped over the side into a boat.
They were pulled ashore by some grinning black man with a scarlet scarf
about his head and the brand of a hot iron on his shoulders. At the
jetty end, where the Indians lounged at their tobacco and the
fishermen's canoas rocked, the sunburnt pirates put ashore. Among the
noisy company which always gathers on a pier they met with their
companions. A sort of Roman triumph followed, as the "happily returned"
lounged swaggeringly towards the taverns. Eager hands helped them to
carry in their plunder. In a few minutes the gang was entering the
tavern, the long, cool room with barrels round the walls, where there
were benches and a table and an old blind fiddler jerking his elbow at a
jig. Noisily the party ranged about