Even when outside Hawkins's situation was still critical and might well
be called desperate. The _Judith_ was but fifty tons; the _Minion_ not
above a hundred. They were now crowded up with men. They had little
water on board, and there had been no time to refill their store-chests,
or fit themselves for sea. Happily the weather was moderate. If the wind
had risen, nothing could have saved them. They anchored two miles off to
put themselves in some sort of order. The Spanish fleet did not venture
to molest further so desperate a foe. On Saturday the 25th they set
sail, scarcely knowing whither to turn. To attempt an ocean voyage as
they were would be certain destruction, yet they could not trust longer
to De Bacan's cowardice or forbearance. There was supposed to be a
shelter of some kind somewhere on the east side of the Gulf of Mexico,
where it was hoped they might obtain provisions. They reached the place
on October 8, but found nothing. English sailors have never been wanting
in resolution. They knew that if they all remained on board every one of
them must starve. A hundred volunteered to land and take their chance.
The rest on short rations might hope to make their way home.
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