But Drake
guessed rightly that there must be some nearer opening, and felt his way
looking for it along the coast of Java. Spite of all his care, he was
once on the edge of destruction. One evening as night was closing in a
grating sound was heard under the _Pelican's_ keel. In another moment
she was hard and fast on a reef. The breeze was light and the water
smooth, or the world would have heard no more of Francis Drake. She lay
immovable till daybreak. At dawn the position was seen not to be
entirely desperate. Drake himself showed all the qualities of a great
commander. Cannon were thrown over and cargo that was not needed. In the
afternoon, the wind changing, the lightened vessel lifted off the rocks
and was saved. The hull was uninjured, thanks to the Californian
repairs. All on board had behaved well with the one exception of Mr.
Fletcher, the chaplain. Mr. Fletcher, instead of working like a man, had
whined about Divine retribution for the execution of Doughty.
For the moment Drake passed it over. A few days after, they passed out
through the Straits of Sunda, where they met the great ocean swell,
Homer's [Greek: mega kuma thalasses], and they knew then that all was
well.
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